People who need people

Against my better judgement, (no time) I recently launched a Facebook account, or page, or wall or whatever it's called. This came about primarily because a long lost childhood friend of mine (discovered through Friends Reunited) wanted to show me her family photos and apparently Facebook is the best way to do this. Since being on Facebook, another school friend now in Italy has contacted me, my very first au pair from 15 years ago has been in touch, and I've been "poked" (or something) by many of my younger cousins, who apparently have nothing better to do with their time than lark about in cyber space. Oh, hang on. That would be because they are not married and have no children.

Anyway, (or "anyhoo" as some Americans say here in the mid-west), as part of setting up my Facebook thingy, I was given the option of "befriending" people already in my e-mail contact lists. "Why not?", I thought, and hit the "yes" button. What I failed to grasp was that everyone within the Venn diagram circle of both being in my address book and being on Facebook would get my begging e-mail asking to be their friend. When I say everyone, I mean everyone - including people I'd forgotten I ever had an e-mail for, and people I found on Friends Reunited, e-mailed once and then decided against future contact. For the most part it's been fine - especially given that you can spend as much or as little time with it as you want. I don't, very much. My teenage daughter benevolently granted my friendship request then realized that I was henceforth privvy to everything she and her friends were doing and saying. She huffed and puffed for a week, until reminded that it was she who allowed me access in the first place. I was promptly "un-friended". I would say it was fun reading the messages between teenagers, but to be honest, I couldn't understand 80% of what they were writing. POS means "parent over shoulder", and WTF was fairly clear, but everything else was like Greek to me.

The other day I was looking at my increasing lists of "friends". (Friends' photos are up on your page, and since I have more than a handful of them now, I am no longer a member of the "saddo" division. Oh, the social pressure.) To my utter dismay, I suddenly realized that I had been "unfriended" by someone who, as far as I am concerned, had absolutely no reason to unfriend me. (Can you sense the disbelief and outrage?) An old university friend, and now apparently rather important at Saatchi, he was in my e-mail address book, and must have voluntarily become my friend, as I had access to his Facebook page and posts. And now he's gone. I know I didn't delete him, so I can only deduce that he has deemed me not cool enough to grace his page. Does he not know that I will be on Chicago telly tonight? Has he forgotten that I was President of the university Debating Society? How very dare he? He's not an ex, or an ex-crush, or even an "unrequited", yet years ago this would have sent me into a period of self-examination and doubt, -diving for the nearest self-help book, Drunk Mummy's advice or a litre of Sancerre.

This time however, I am a mature, confident-ish, not-to-be-toyed-with woman. I read MORE magazine every month, socialize only with the people I actually like, parent my kids the way I see fit, write when I can, and blog. (Can you hear me roaring?) Therefore, my first reaction to anything like this now is invariably, "Ooh, that would make a good post!" Thanks, Adam.