Hello there. It’s good to see you. Yes, I can see you. I can see you from the corner of my eye (from the picture there). My eyes can also see the words you’re reading too. Wow! You are very handsome/pretty.
Anyway, you may or may not remember me from my column in the last issue, where I managed to avoid writing about the subject of women in comedy by talking about an old man who used to harass me. But just sexually. Today, I’d like to talk about my embarrassing addiction to (new) Facebook. For the record, I don’t hate the Internet. As a journalist, I would be lost without Wikipedia. It’s just that ever since my boyfriend and I split up, I’ve been spending a lot of time sleuthing around his page like a horrible, disgusting cyber-sheriff-cliché. Oh, two new friends, huh? Ah, he went to a birthday party in Arlington… but what is he doing with white wine? Since when does he drink white wine?! If this is something you can avoid doing the next time you get dumped, I highly recommend it. It’s not a good way to move on. I also recommend not getting dumped.
OTHER THINGS I COULD BE DOING WITH MY TIME INSTEAD OF BEING ON FACEBOOK
I could be jogging, or making dinner. I could be making friends, or seeing movies, or going to art openings and standing with a plastic goblet of wine in my hand saying things like, “Cable television? I don’t even OWN a TV!” But when you are addicted to something, everyday activities seem impossible. Also, the beauty of FB is that you can just pretend to do those things. Status Update: SARAH is working. SARAH is jogging. SARAH is lying in bed with a bag of Ringolos looking at pictures of her old high school friends’ wedding. With the Ringolos, I like to pop them on my fingers like rings, then eat the rings. They’re symbolically delicious.
OTHER THINGS I COULD BE READING INSTEAD OF READING ON FACEBOOK
I have subscriptions to three magazines. The New Yorker, The Economist, and SPIN magazine. Actually, that last one was his. It comes to the house every month with his name on it. I resent that SPIN mocks me. The Economist is another story. My name’s on that. It comes weekly and I put it on my dining room table. I think, I’ll read that later. After a few days, I move it to the bathroom. It becomes an expensive way of letting my guests know that I’m interested in foreign affairs and that I read on the toilet. I don’t know what I need it for anyway, when I can get all the political coverage I need from Facebook. Newsfeed: Katherine Bukowsky is Woot! Go Obama!!!
OTHER ADDICTIONS I COULD HAVE INSTEAD OF BEING ADDICTED TO FACEBOOK
I could be addicted to crack. Or scabies. Or to being optimistic! One of my best friends is an alcoholic. I, too, could be addicted to alcohol. When things got out of control, he went to rehab. It would be nice if there was FB rehab. At first it would be hard. My roommate at rehab would be all, “Status Update: CHRISTINA is not sure she can handle this!” and I’d be all, “SARAH is doesn’t like her new roommate at rehab.” In time, as we healed, we would learn how to enjoy life. Which is my new next big goal. Status update: SARAH is addicted to optimism!