Why I love facebook

Two years ago I had no friends. Today I have 87. It’s true, just go and look on my Facebook page if you don't believe me.

Well, when I say 'no' friends, it’s not strictly true, DH is obviously my friend (in a sort of manacled together fashion), but that doesn’t count anyway.

I have a couple of friends from school with whom I keep in touch. By ‘in touch’ I mean the odd email and the occasional drink at Christmas. Mind you, it’s only in recent years that we really had anything in common (well, not since we all had a crush on McGyver and thought Morrissey was deep).

Through our late twenties and early thirties, as they surged ahead in their chosen fields, I spent my time watching CBeebies and cleaning bottoms. ‘My life is meaningless’ I would wail down the phone, in one of my late night drunken monologues. ‘I’m rubbish at housework, I want to go to parties and I’m pretty sure that Jake from the Tweenies is gay’.

We’re now back on an equal footing as they have since become mothers themselves, although they have wisely chosen to have only one or two children. As one friend commented cheerfully, after one particularly noisy, messy, vomit covered, head lice infested visit ‘well, thankyou, that has delayed any maternal yearnings for another 6 months.’

Then there of course are my siblings, with whom I’m in almost daily contact. But that doesn’t count either, we’re bound by blood, baggage and rivalry.

Of course my neighbours could be counted as friends too, although our endless plans for nights out and dinner parties have never amounted to anything more than the occasional cup of coffee and one, drunken and impromptu party back at ours after chucking out time.

Of course this is purely down to the fact that having children means anything less than an all expenses paid trip for two to New York (babysitter provided) just isn’t worth the hassle.

And then came Facebook. I love Facebook, the ultimate tool for a friendship commitment-phobe such as myself. It’s brilliant, with little or no effort on my part, I can suddenly be part of  peoples lives; people I might not have seen in 20 years.  At the click of a button I am privy to their sadnesses, joys, and Christmas photos. And I don’t even have to get dressed.

And the best bit is, nothing is required of me other than the odd insipid comment such as ‘hey that’s great, good luck’ or ‘lucky you, enjoy yourself’. 

But I’m being disingenuous. There is great pleasure in rediscovering long lost cousins, ex- flat mates, work colleagues, people with whom you’ve shared a part of your history and yet have had no contact in decades.

My past is littered with the carcasses of deceased friendships. There are dozens of people whom I’ve met, liked, sometimes lived with, worked with, certainly got drunk with, who have disappeared along the way on this journey we call life. Of course, back in the 90’s, when the internet was still in its infancy, the only way to keep in touch with someone who’d moved on was through their parents phone number or address (even then you were likely to lose it). But in these high tech times of social networking sites, and search engines, finding someone is easier than looking up the yellow pages.

Of course, there are the dangers. Looking up past boyfriends, for example, is an irresistible but potentially dangerous practice. Interestingly, not one ex boyfriend of mine is to be found on facebook, I can’t help but feel it’s intentional (ok, so I may have displayed some bunny boiling tendencies in a past life.. although I prefer the term ‘enthusiastically challenging’, besides, most of that was reserved for DH and remember, dear reader, he married me)

But Facebook is a marvel. Through some sort of cyber witchery, it can suggest people as friends who may have no connection with anyone else on your 'friends list'.  This can result in a flurry of excitable emails with the individual in question as you catch up and rediscover each other over the course of a few days.  However, it's not always good news. I am reminded weekly of a friend that I haven't spoken to in 5 years.  To put it delicately, we won't be revisiting that relationship.

The aim is to have as many FB friends as possible. My personal ambition is to have to click onto a second page when scrolling through my ‘friends’ list.  I'm surely into the home run at this stage.

But some people take the whole thing too far. Does anyone really want to know that you’ve decided to eat a banana for lunch? Or are going to pop to the shops? I recently heard a story about some witless oaf who, following a hard night out on the tiles, took a duvet day, phoned in sick and then bragged about the fact on facebook. Needless to say the person in question was fired when the boss discovered the truth (no doubt by some well-meaning colleague).

How long before people log on to their status update to tell us they need the loo or are about to have sex?  Just typing that makes me realise they probably already do!

And then there are the quizzes, which are bizarre, pointless and sometimes funny although there is something tragic about a 36 year old woman spending 3 minutes of her day answering questions on the 'which Harry Potter Character are you?' quiz (the Weasley twins apparantly, a result which instantly reminded how stupid the quiz was in the first place).  Although the 'which psychiatric illness do you have?' quiz was alarmingly accurate given it was based on only 5 questions (ADD aparently).

Interestingly, facebook has wormed its way into our social consciousness too. Photos taken on nights out are now taken purely with the intention of publishing them on facebook. It’s the ultimate in approval-seeking one-upmanship.  'See, I AM popular I tell you, look at how many people are at my party!!'

They say that we all have an internal voice, one which praises, comments and demoralises us, depending on our psychological disposition. Certainly, I have a very loud and active inner voice, featuring all my family members; I used to refer to as my ‘Inner Greek chorus' as it commented and lambasted me on my every thought, motive, move. Facebook's a bit like that, like a large, collective social consciousness, a large gathering of people sitting in the corner of my room, judging and watching my every move, discussing it between themselves.

Of course, I could just switch off the PC, go outside and get a life, but then I'd be back to trying to make friends in the real world, and that involves getting dressed and talking to people. Like I said, unless I'm offered that trip to New York, I'll be sitting at my desk waiting for the next live update.