Kimberly Emerson

Well, I held out as long as I could, but it was bound to happen sooner or later.  I joined Facebook.

I know what you’re thinking.  “Why, Kimberly, why?  You have so many other things to do with your time.  You need to reconcile your checking account, your house is a mess, your third book isn’t going to write itself…why would you start something new?”

Blame it on peer pressure.  I have two brothers whose main job in life seems to be to con me into doing things.  Facebook is only the latest in a long line.  I explained in a previous column how my younger brother got me into running.  The only reason I speak French today is that my older brother took it first and I wanted to understand what he was saying.  Okay, I’ve managed to avoid any interest in TV Poker or Star Wars, the Video Game, but only because those things are seriously boring.

Which, as it turns out, Facebook is not.  It’s kind of fascinating, really.  No, as my friend Ann points out, it is not a substitute for actual communication.  It’s more like being at a party, where you exchange a couple of sentences with people and then move on to mingle elsewhere.  You don’t have to dress up, but you are encouraged to create a sexy avatar to represent yourself, and you can always dress it up if you choose.  You may invite whoever you wish to your personal party, though (as in real life) some of the people you invite may not show up, and you may be guilted into admitting some people you could live without.  (When you’re sending out invitations, try not to think about how many people are accepting yours for that same reason.  No good will come of it.)  As always, there are silly party games, like “What kind of novel heroine are you?”  (Anne, from Anne of Green Gables, as it turns out.  I know, I’m surprised too, because I was so expecting Elizabeth Bennett.  Go figure.)  The online aspect kind of limits food and drink, but you could at least find a quiz about what kind of drink you are, if you looked hard enough. 

Why is this site so enticing?  The truth is, when I ask people about it, they don’t actually talk much about the witty banter or the clever games.  They talk about the people they find.  I say find, not meet, because Facebook isn’t actually good at introducing you to new people.  You might join forces with friends of friends at some point, but the big selling point of this site for almost everyone I’ve talked to is its ability to put you back in touch with people you already knew.  For that, Facebook is amazing.  See, this site is not content to let you associate with people you see every day.  It asks a few details about you – your high school, your college, your work – and then looks for people it thinks you might know.  It suggests people that your friends are friends with, in case you have mutual acquaintances.  The site actually suggested to me that I send an invitation to a guy I had a crush on in high school.  (He’s married now.  I passed.)  This is no more than logical sampling, but somehow it seems to be magic, bringing people back from your past.  

Beyond retrieving them for us, it teaches us how to maintain contact with people, once they’re back in our lives.  I for one am not good at this.  From time to time, I do wonder what happened to some people, and comb the internet and mutual acquaintances’ address books in order to find them again.  Once I’ve found them and we’ve caught up on each other’s lives, however, it’s hard to know what to do next.  It seems rude to let them fall back into obscurity, but weird to try to graft them into the life I’ve made for myself now.  As a result, we keep talking about getting together for lunch, it never happens, and eventually either they or I let go again.  I find myself wondering if, by trying to reconnect, I actually succeeded in making the distance even further than it was before. 

But now, to save us from awkwardness, here rides in Facebook to the rescue.  Reconnect, say hello, then give each other (and everyone else on the list) periodic updates about your life, your family, or your mood.  You’re in touch, kind of, and if you actually want to invite them for lunch, you can.

Will Facebook last?  Who knows.  It does usurp an extraordinary amount of time if I let it, and at some point, I do actually have to get back to all the things I mentioned at the beginning of this article.  But for now, I am enjoying the silliness of it, and it is good to see at least electronic facsimiles of all the people that have been a part of my life at some point.  In reality, perhaps Facebook contributes to the greater good if it reminds us of just that fact: it is the people behind all those comments and pictures that really matter. 

Just remember, once in a while it might be a good idea to see one or two of them in real life, too.