I joined Facebook over a year ago in order to keep in touch with my nieces. One niece lives in Washington, D.C. and works as a political events planner, and the other is at Cal Poly SLO studying business.
I quickly found myself sucked in to the fun of finding old friends, and connecting with those whom I know through work or blogging.
I had fun for quite a while, then was the subject of some snarkiness. It happened twice. It was annoying, embarrassing, and humbling. This was from one of my oldest friends, someone I had liked and trusted for years. Suddenly I awoke to a real comprehension of acts speaking louder than words; I understood at a deep level what I already knew at an intellectual level. And so I dropped off Facebook for many months, rather disgusted.
When I did, I found that after a couple of days I didn’t miss it. I had the means already of keeping in touch with most of those with whom I wanted to maintain contact, and I’d only made my meaningless little posts about my garden or the funny things that Sadie did as a means of indicating I was actively using the account.
I popped back on recently, after a family reunion gathering during which several relatives wanted a simple means of remaining in contact with one another. I feel good about it, as the point of joining in the first place was to remain in contact with family. I’ve added a couple of my meaningless little posts, too.