July 13, 2010
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Eight Facebook Lies We Tell
The other day I made contact with an old friend through Facebook. It’d been years upon years upon Paleozoic eras since we last talked and so we used Facebook’s message feature to catch up quickly. Pretty soon though, it became apparent that I was being sold a perfect bill of goods. Terms like “loving wife,” “successful business,” and “preparing for Iron Man” peppered our exchange and soon I began to think his email sounded like an ad. I don’t know, when people I haven’t seen for nine years ask how I am, I tend to fill them in on where I live, how many kids I have, and what I do. I try to use down-to-earth, normal-people adjectives and don’t tend to say things like:
“Hey! I’m amazing, thanks for asking! I have an age-defying flat stomach even after birthing two kids naturally…two kids who are currently in Montessori school, are child models, and reading at the college level. We travel a lot because my kids are also classical pianists who play for heads of state and my husband is an astronaut who likes to take the family on his intergalactic space trips. Also, I have a robot dog that speaks 18 languages. As for me? I’m Oprah’s stockbroker. For fun, I chisel marble masterpieces and enjoy the sensual administrations of my nubile waitstaff.”
I mean. COME ON.
