Fair Thee Well, Facebook

I just quit Facebook. Yes, I officially deactivated my account, but I did something even crazier, more permanent. I literally went into the profiles of each of the people I care to stay personally connected to, and I copied and pasted their contact info into a spreadsheet. Then I deleted them as a friend until I had no friends whatsoever. Am I crazy and weird or what?

But if you know me, then you know that I don't do things halfway. When I'm zealous, I'm pretty much so. (Though I want to make it very clear that being zealous about things, such as religion or politics, does not excuse people to be mean and stinky. Is that clear?)

Anyway, I'm serious about this whole rejecting Facebook thing. Well, for me, I'm serious. It's a great idea for other people. Say, people who have jobs that take them out of their homes and keep them busy. I'm very busy, but in a very different way. I can sit and feed my baby a bottle and, should I choose to, I can pull out my iPhone and check email or surf the net. Cool, but a little sad. Because there's this really cute, fuzzy person in my arms who I can disconnect from in an instant.

And I have some really successful friends who are doing exactly what I once dreamed of doing. Now I want to make another thing very clear. I've chosen this path of stay-at-home-momhood for myself. It was not forced upon me. These monkeys need care, and I may as well be giving them care since no one can love them the way I can. And happily some new aspirations are forming as I've step away from theatre a bit. I see more potential for myself than to just be a performer.

But that doesn't mean that I find it easy all of the time. And when it gets really stressful or tedious or occasionally even boring (gasp), it's so easy to seek out a distraction. And then I see all of these people having (evidently) a wonderful time and tremendous success pursuing what were once my dreams while I scurry around trying to find a lost sippy-cup full of milk. Well, that all can just lead to Discontent. And a discontent mom, while being human and natural and not the end of the world, can make for sad kids who feel unwanted.

So you see now the logic behind my rash decision? Yes, I will miss the hysterical anecdotes about my friend's genius daughter who I'm convinced will someday be a NYTimes collumnist. I will miss the photo albums that only load halfway with extremely dated photos of my friends and I wearing poofy bangs. And I will miss the almost Jane Austen-esque (or Conan O'Brian-esque) lessons in wit that I got from some other friends.

I will not, however, miss the News Feeds, when FB randomly tells me that I'm supposed to care about so-and-so today because I haven't found the time to scroll through my friends list to hide them from the News Feed. I won't miss the Farmville invites (no offense people!). I won't miss the feelings of jealousy toward 30 of my friends who attended a big party that I wasn't invited to (which is okay since I haven't seen most of these people for 10+ years).

No, as I deleted the names and deactivated the account, I felt a sense of relief spread through me. It's going to be okay. To my friends who I wanted to update with my contact info, I started an email with the following:

"I feel as if I’ve just spent a very long time at a cocktail party, and it’s time for me to leave my card and get my coat."

I do indeed. Mine's the black leather with the faux-fur lining. Thank you. :)