As I've paddled through life, I've always viewed the clumps of people I've met as isolated encampments along the riverfront. It's a stupid neurosis, thinking you can treat your classmates and friends and colleagues and Drinkin' Buddies like buttons in a craft cabinet, and Facebook is inexorably freeing me of it.
I'm totally on board with all the skepticism about Facebook's privacy issues, so I signed on tentatively at first. About 95% of my Facebook time was spent staying up all night playing Scrabble. Lately, however, I've managed to friend people who've resurfaced from all over my past lives, and now that I've linked this blog to my news feed, they're all reading this. It's kind of ... freeing, in a completely naked and NSFW sort of way. But hey, fuck it. I'm not working, right?
Or course, it also makes writing snarkily about your life far more difficult.
For example: My old employer has a tradition of giving everyone who leaves a little parting gift, and this year it was an old-fashioned-looking alarm clock. At first I thought this was a little tone-deaf, since thanks to them I no longer need to get up in the morning. But I didn't want to offend Sarah, who was head of the hospitality committee and is completely funny and great. In fact, she would be one of the real drawbacks of leaving the job if she weren't also leaving. She's moving across the country, but thanks to Facebook we can keep in touch, and share updates of our Departure Clocks, and devote our lives to furthering pointless bullshit at the expense of anything even remotely productive.
So, to all of you new to this blog, welcome. This should make our catch-up conversations at reunions mercifully brief, so I can file you where you belong--with the Drinkin' Buddies.