Please consider defriending me.
Last week, I wrote about how I had hit the Facebook friend ceiling of 5,000. I was sort of implying, without being too heavy-handed about it, that if you're one of the 5,000, maybe you'd want to defriend me and make room for others. I can't bear to do the defriending from my end. I saw Sophie's Choice.
So to make things easier for all of us, if you're one of my Facebook friends, let me offer ten reasons why you should defriend me:
- I don't know how to tell you this, but, well, I've been friends with 4,999 other people.
- It's not you. It's me. I'm just not ready to be in a cyber-relationship right now. We can't be friends anymore but I hope we can still be associates over in LinkedIn.
- I'm no good for either of us right now. This SOPA thing has just got me so upset and out of sorts.
- Mark Zuckerberg is coming between us with his 5,000 rule. Damn Mark Zuckerkberg! I hope he only makes a billion dollars next year!
- Look, I don't know it for a fact. But somebody anonymously texted me that Mark Zuckerberg never liked you anyway and is out to get you. That's between you and Mark. But, please for the love of God, leave me out of it.
- This whole Facebook thing is so 2008, anyway. Hip and cool people have moved on to other things. Don't you want to be hip and cool?
- My mom still reviews all my friends from time to time. She thought you looked a little skanky in your profile pic. Anyway, she says you don't appear to be the kind of wholesome person she wants her son associated with. So we can't be friends anymore. However, if you want to call me to talk about it, my number is in the book.
- Where I'm going, you can't follow. What I've got to do, you can't be any part of. Ilsa, I'm no good at being noble, but it doesn't take much to see that the problems of five thousand little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday you'll understand that.
- Pick one: You didn't like the Edgewater, you thought streetcars were stupid, your street didn't get plowed but the bike paths did, inclusionary zoning didn't work like I said it would, you're still sore over the smoking ban and having to shiver on the sidewalk in front of the bar, you actually liked bundling newspapers under the old recycling system, you liked the bite of pepper spray on a crisp Halloween night, you wanted the original Central Library plan, you think "bike boxes" are a communist plot, you wanted the train to stop at Yahara Station instead of Monona Terrace, you liked it when the leaves got picked up on a regular schedule, you couldn't find a parking spot downtown, you can't figure out how to use the damn new parking meters to save your life, you got a parking ticket in 2005, you liked David Blaska better, or you are Steve Nass, Glenn Grothman or Will Sandstrom.
- I was too easy. I accepted everybody who offered to be my friend. I know it hurts to hear this, but you deserve better than an easy Facebook friend like me. I'm cheap and tawdry, but you're fine and special and you deserve friends who value you for who you are, not just another notch on their friend post. They say if you love something let it go. It will come back to you. So, I'm letting you go. But don't come back. There's no room.