Friday, March 21, 2014

True Life: I gave up Facebook for Lent and lasted 7 Days; featuring Small Talk and Frisky Felines

(the following was written over the course of the past 2 weeks)

Lent.  Up until like 2 days 5 years ago I thought it was just one vowel off from the stuff you can find in belly buttons. Turns out it's much more than that.  It's like the period before Jesus rose into heaven, I think.  Incidentally, I was born on December 23rd, and delivered home on Christmas morning, which might explain why I'm so Christ-like.  Moving on.  

March 5th
As I scroll through my Facebook newsfeed and see status updates from people resolving to give up Gluten, sugar, frenching, gossiping, drunk texting, booze and whippits I realize Lent is more than what I did with my sweater.  It's a very important period during which one's self control is put to the ultimate test.  I got to thinking about things I, myself could give up.  I thought of all 354 of my vices:

1. I go through at least 2 packs of gum per day.  I'm on a Juicy Fruit kick these days. I'm not giving the gum up because the taste, the taste, the taste really mooooves me. The other day, I blew the biggest bubble ever in the history of bubble blowing and it was seriously one of the proudest moments of my adult life. 


2. I touch my hair every second of every day a lot.  I thought about giving that up but then I wouldn't know what to do with my hands when I get nervous or fidgety since sometimes I wear things without pockets.

3. I considered giving up losing my debit card but I then realized I wouldn't be able to see the always pleasant  Rhonda at the B of A counter every other day week.  I sure would miss her weekly lectures on becoming more responsible.  Rhonda's kind of like my mom away from home.   Don't shart with me.  
Left: 2 of my 167 debit cardz, *note how the temporary one says "Preferred Customer" on it.  I think Rhonda (top right) would "prefer" it if I get my act together.
Bottom right: How I look when Rhonda reprimands me.

4. I thought about giving up small talk but can you believe it's finally raining?  Gosh, we sure did need the rain.  Where are you from? 
Fun Fact:  The elevator is prime Small Talk real estate.  
What's your favorite meat?
Do you  come here often?
5. I thought about conserving energy by turning off my fan in my room for the next  40 days but then I wouldn't have anything to drown out the sound of my neighbors cats mating in the back yard and oh my god I can't even fathom having to hear those god awful noises (me-owch!)… night after night. THE FAN STAYS. 
                                            

6. I thought about giving up calling my mom every day to complain about my finances and boys but hold on a sec, I just realized I have insignificant funds and a date with a guy who uses the acronym LMFAO in texts, I need to call my mom and vent. 
OH. DEAR. 
6.  I thought about giving up being the "like" fairy on instagram because let's face it: liberally handing out "likes" can get kind of obnoxious.  I feel like the value of each "like" decreases the more I double click on insta photos.  Furthermore, there's the fear that I might begin suffering from carpal tunnel syndrome if I don't nix my rampant "like" distribution.  The other day my ungrateful friend told me that I was a "sure thing" when it came to liking his photos and that was hurtful.  I also thought about giving up begging people for likes on my photos but then realized how integral the power of triple digit likes are in my battle with the Sunday Scaries. VERDICT: giving and receiving "likes" makes everyone happy so as long as I have opposable thumbs and a generous heart, I am going to keep on liking the shit out of everyone's photos.   (In the spirit of liking things, you can "like" Toe Pick on facebook by clicking here.)

Maybe I should change my e-mail signature to:

Alexandra Bunting | Like Fairy
DesperateVille, California

69696

To me "likes" are like virtual Haribo Gummi Bears



Then, I thought of the ultimate sacrifice: giving up facebook.  Let's face the facts folks, I've probably spent several months (total) of my life dicking around on The Book.  I've been on the damn thing for almost 10 years and I'll venture to guess it's cost me a lot of brain cells.  This makes me feel tense.  

So I decided to give it up - first, I ran this idea past a couple of friends  - I got a lot of sarcastic "good lucks", "beat its," and "yeah, right, and I'm gonna french Liam Hemsworth's".  (Clearly I have no clue how to apostrophize that last sentence.  Also, is apostrophize a word?  it is now.  cawl me)

But the skeptics only strengthened my resolve to abstain from facebook use until Christ rises or whatever. I enlisted my most responsible, stoic friend to go in and change my password for me.  I advised her not to, under any circumstances give me the password until the 40 days of Lent are up.  She reluctantly agreed.  I remembered an old friend had successfully given up fb a couple times in the past so I decided to reach out to him for some guidance.  Our conversation went a little something like this:



Day 1-3  
The first couple of days have been harder than R Kelly at a urinal but I'm coping as breast I can.   On Day 1 I find myself subconsciously trying to log in to my account only to be jolted back into the reality of my sitch as I'm confronted by this:

Day 3-6
Facebook gets overly concerned and sends me these messages asking me if I'm okay (because it's been a lengthy FIVE DAYS since I've logged on) and attempts to entice me to log in and check my notifications.  I turn away from my computer and give myself a silent pep talk: "Nothing to see here, move along.  You can do it put your back into it."


Day 6-8
I develop a twitch and start to feel lightheaded, almost as if I'm experiencing a mild case of vertigo.  I find myself doodling a lot and relying on theFatJewish to keep me occupied.  *You must follow him on instagram if you aren't already.  The guy is a genuis.
                                          
Day 9. 
I finally cave and ask my friend for the new password under the false pretense that I need to check my messages in case a work client had tried to contact me.  She refuses to give it to me,  I become distraught, and after some valiant efforts, I manage to hack in to my account and oh my god I feel like such a failure.  

Whatever, I'm not going to beat myself up about it.  I think Christ will understand - after all,  I'm only human with an otherwordly ability to blow a bubble the size of Kim Kardashian's rear.

Have a great weekend, folks.

xo, Nige

PS.  In case you never read my Facebook etiquette manual here it is.  Cawl me.