Facebook is Scary.
January 3, 2009
So I have a Facebook page now. Why the fuck do I have a Facebook page, you ask? This is a good question. You see, my friend and former co worker Chris says to me hey, I have a Facebook page and you should too. So I ask him, what the fuck is wrong with you and what have you done with the real Chris? And he says suck it, and then that he has one because IM is dead. And I say O RLY. To which he says YAHWEH.
Naturally we had this conversation in Yahoo!, so I debate the IM is dead assertion, but I digress. So he says all the cool kids are doing it, and I have one of my weird flash-forwards where I suddenly recall I'd already set up something like a Facebook account, because sometimes I dream the future but don't realize it until I'm actually at the point that I dreamt about, and say Fine.
So I made a Facebook page. And I added Chris, because you know, why have a site like that without at least one friend? I don't need it to mirror my real life after all. And suddenly, their creepy thing starts suggesting people I should add, since you know, they live in the same state or have the same color eyes or whatever, and I am disturbed and unnerved and stop playing with it. Hey, eerie.
But the fucking thing does not stop, and eventually people are finding me. So I'm like whatever. Now, the weird moral here is that apparently, having added me to their Facebook, some friends of mine who haven't bothered to talk to me in about a year have suddenly decided that Hogod, We Must Talk To Denny Now And Hang Out And Things. So of course we did some hanging out on New Year's Eve.
And this person managed to say something to me that made me re-evaluate the whole notion of friendship with him. It's strange; you think you know someone after what, twenty two fucking years, and in one second they say something so remarkably over the top shitty to you that it just ruins your image of them forever. Admittedly I have self-image problems but this was beyond 'bad taste'.
So yeah, I've been sort of mopey about that too. Between this and the job shenanigans, I am probably sounding like an emo clown or something, but I'm at a point where I just don't know what the fuck to think about a lot of things. I'm torn between confrontation and just writing people off for good, and the latter is winning out at this point. When people could give a fuck about you, why bother with 'em?
I just have a hard time 'letting go' of some things, I guess. And I don't just mean my own, completely justified indignation. Or my bile. Or my grudges. Sure, an actual genuine apology is one step in the right direction, but knowing what I know about this person and their personality, they're not going to think they did anything wrong so that's not forthcoming. So you know, I guess I'm done.
Beh. Anyhow, to lighten up the mood some, I give you ridiculous pictures. The first is of course a truck I saw in the parking lot of KONG when I recently went there (see the terrible snow?) It was oddly appropriate, considering how much food Kong gives you when you order... anything. But in case you didn't see it, I did a close up of the actual sign on the truck. Check out the floater!