I love Facebook

Only in America could such absurdity exist. Sure there are people from all over the world in it, but only a culture so set on separation could create something so false about bringing people together.

I have friends in there that I haven't seen or spoken to in years. Mostly from high school and I'm lucky enough to have gone to a small school, so we really do know each other. Or at least really did. I'm glad to be able to play word games with them, but I don't know them. One of my real best friends just joined and called me saying she's overwhelmed and is just accepting invites from people she doesn't even know.

We're in our 30's now so there's a bit of nostalgia regarding our former bonds and the looking back over the years to the lives we had once. I remember flashing friends, they don't specifically recall said instances (I was a mad flasher and would raise my shirt if the wind was blowing in the right direction... so it's easy to forget). We're scanning in old letter we used to write.

Actually those are really interesting. The letters I have from my childhood are bordering on pornographic- some outright disgusting. With pix and all. My best friend who joined a "group" later in life (i'm trying not to call it a cult anymore) was a whiz at chemistry (she later went on to be pre-med from an ivy league institution before "the group") and we'd write notes about a freshman boy (we were sophomores) and just giggle. I got a C and had to go to a tutor. She got an A and joined a cult. That's what nostalgia gets you.

But back to my point, in Facebook I'm a master drug dealer, a ruthless pimp, a millionaire mobster, a rogue soldier with the need to destroy, a word genius, and I like 24 and Lost. These things bring me a weird false sense of accomplishment in times when I dont' feel like I'm doing anything with my life. I'm beating someone at something instead of getting beaten (by the man, the system, myself mostly). But that doesn't say anything about the girl who lives in NYC and is sometimes so paralyzed with anxiety she won't leave the house for days (except to go to the gym around the corner and the bar downstairs).

Or the one who is negotiating this life on its terms and would love to know how everyone else is doing it. How do I write an abstract? What do I say when I present this paper in Copenhagen? Who will I be in Paris? Can someone help me focus and edit these stories that are driving me mad? What exactly is in a book proposal?

We poke and send kisses and crazy Japanese game show clips, but nobody's really talking. It's just more distraction. I'll sit up her bored but still playing Word Twist cause I can't quite wrap my brain around what my character does after she kills her mother and how that impacts the overall story arc. It's easier to have a false sense of intimacy (the same thing I think about IM...) under the auspices of communication than actual communication and intimacy.

But that doesn't mean I don't kick ass at Word Twist.