Facebook For The Rest Of Us
I need to call my therapist....I need to begin a new more potent personality altering drug regimen.....I need to get some friends, NOW.
Let's start by saying that I'm not a real people person. I don't like nor am I good at small talk. It exhausts me. If the other person isn't responding enthusiastically or complimenting me on my sparkling personality or marveling at my wittiness well, then, let's just agree right now that it's them, not me. Usually, the person just stares at me blankly and backs away. Yeah, nice seeing you, let's get together soon, I shout from across the room. So, let's just say my friendship circle is limited. As a special treat, I've unblocked years of therapy, just for you....
One time while on the concrete jungle, I remember two girls who wanted to be in our ponytail clique. We were a tight gang of 5 year olds who ruled the playground and you had to win your way into our group. In order to be a ponytail poser, you had to run and pull the ponytails of our chosen and unsuspecting victim. I used to love this game. It was friendship by intimidation and I would wear my victim's scrunchies around my neck on a chain as a sign of my popularity. We were untouchable.
My middle and high school years were pretty much the same. You know, pull a ponytail in Algebra, lop off an unsuspecting bobber with a grosgrain ribbon in English - (I'm also known for my charity work and donated that beauty to Locks of Love) And so it went.
Recently, I joined Facebook. Did you know that some people have over 197 friends?! I try not to compare my low friend number with the freakishly large friend count of others because like many men I know, I refuse to succumb to the mine is bigger than yours theory of virtual friendships.
At this point, I'll just stick with my 13 friends - because, that's enough small talk for me.
