A Friend of A Friend of A Friend.... (the Facebook Frenzy)

If you had told me a year ago that I would be on "Facebook" I would have look at you cross-eyed and laughed because truth be told, I don't really have, nor do I want to have all that many "friends". But over the holidays, I found myself drinking lots of wine and spending many a night alone after the kids were in bed, wondering "whatever happened to so-and-so." One night, after my 3rd glass of champagne, when even Celebrity Rehab was boring the life out me, I logged on to the Internet and found myself on Facebook. Within minutes I had found 6 sorority sisters and a few high school pals. I was more delighted than if I'd found a $5 bill in my back pocket. 

The beauty of Facebook is that, as you add friends, it finds more people who you "may know". It is a virtual a web-based Magnum P.I.,  searching for long lost pals  - and the more people you add, the more bright shiny faces of old acquaintances faces pop on as if by magic, onscreen. As I sipped champagne, my Facebook 'beer goggles' grew more and more foggy and soon anyone and everyone would be my friend.  The smelly kid from  High School who drove a Gremlin and wore the Michael Jackson "Beat It" shirt every day for months? Yes, he should definately be my friend. The girl who lived down the street from me during  Elementary School, but then I was relentlessly bitchy to her through high school because she wore clothes from K-Mart and had a bad perm? God I miss her! After the 4th glass of champagne, it was all a  blur.  God only knows who I tried to befriend, but lucky me I would soon find out as the next two weeks played out with a constant reminder as I received  emails confirming my "friend requests". Uggg, did I really ask my high school drama teacher, who used to drink beer and smoke pot with his students to be my friend? Do I really care what the guy I had a crush on in 6th grade is up to now-a-days? 

To be safe, I made sure that only "friends of friends" could see my profile. Because really, I don't want to make friends with a trucker from Mobile, Alabama (call me a bitch, but I'm selective that way). Needless to say I was shocked when just a few weeks after I joined, I had two new "friend requests" from some unseemly strangers. Obviously I had known these cuties in another life, but I swear to god, I just don't remember "Rob V..." who's picture was not of his face but a close up of the fly of his jeans, half-way unzipped. Thanks Rob V, but I'll pass. I prefer friends who keep their pants on in their profile pictures, but you stay wild and crazy, whoever you are. I also received a request from someone who I went to high school with, but I'm pretty sure our paths never crossed. Regardless, Tom X wanted to be my friend. His profile picture was reminiscent of Lee Harvey Oswald, holding a rifle with a "if looks could kill" expression, while wearing a olive green jumpsuit and standing in front of a shiny American Flag. From the looks of things, Tom X is now part of a crazed militia who at this very moment may be planning the bombing of the IRS building in downtown Topeka. Or maybe he just wants to proclaim his love of hunting big game and all things American. Either way, I've become more selective about who I choose as a "friend" (sadly Tom X and Rob the unzipped bandit didn't make the cut). I also try to avoid mixing booze and Facebook. Still nothing is more thrilling then logging on to see that my best friend's cousin's fiance has just logged on and is "making popcorn and watching Pineapple Express" or my old co-worker from 1989 is at her son's soccer game drinking a Cherry Icee. Good times.