MySpace: Not just for meeting your Israeli soulmate anymore
Who knew? Not me -- I thought the whole "social networking" thing involved high schoolers posting drunken pictures of themselves to be used against them by school administrators or prospective employers or the U.S. Justice Department. But after not one but two fellow semi-adults suggested it as a means of keeping tabs on people from one's former high school class, I decided to give it a try.
The verdict: It's a great way to reinforce the fact that I NEVER WANT TO SEE THESE PEOPLE AGAIN.
This is, of course, useful, because just last night one of my coworkers was trying to convince me that I should attend the upcoming reunion. She's also the one who suggested scoping out MySpace to see who is on and what they're up to. She failed to mention (or maybe this does not apply to everyone's high school) that the experience is something akin to a trainwreck. Instead of spending last night after work studying for the exam I had this morning, I spent it in front of the computer, periodically shrieking and covering my eyes in embarrassment and disgust at what some people are willing to post about themselves on the Internet. (Yeah, I know where this is posted. But at least I haven't listed my astrological sign or my relationship status, written any poetry, or announced what type of superhero or flower I most resemble.)
The upshot of the whole experience is that I rediscovered some classmates that I had forgotten about -- and now I have to go through the process of repressing those memories all over again, as well as forgetting the information about their sex lives, disturbing nicknames, or pictures of these freaks with small children that I have now been exposed to.
And I'm now reconsidering my initial interest in attending my 50th high school reunion. I don't think 40 more years will be sufficient for me to get over the experience of not seeing them this time around.
The verdict: It's a great way to reinforce the fact that I NEVER WANT TO SEE THESE PEOPLE AGAIN.
This is, of course, useful, because just last night one of my coworkers was trying to convince me that I should attend the upcoming reunion. She's also the one who suggested scoping out MySpace to see who is on and what they're up to. She failed to mention (or maybe this does not apply to everyone's high school) that the experience is something akin to a trainwreck. Instead of spending last night after work studying for the exam I had this morning, I spent it in front of the computer, periodically shrieking and covering my eyes in embarrassment and disgust at what some people are willing to post about themselves on the Internet. (Yeah, I know where this is posted. But at least I haven't listed my astrological sign or my relationship status, written any poetry, or announced what type of superhero or flower I most resemble.)
The upshot of the whole experience is that I rediscovered some classmates that I had forgotten about -- and now I have to go through the process of repressing those memories all over again, as well as forgetting the information about their sex lives, disturbing nicknames, or pictures of these freaks with small children that I have now been exposed to.
And I'm now reconsidering my initial interest in attending my 50th high school reunion. I don't think 40 more years will be sufficient for me to get over the experience of not seeing them this time around.
posted by Madame Defarge at 5:14 PM
2 Comments:
I love you.
It truly is a sickness, though. I remember one night getting caught up reading about our fellow grads, and then I found myself investigating THEIR friends. It was well into the early morning before I could stop, having researched every bar hopping and sexual escapade they'd ever experienced. All I have to say is, "Who the hell are these people?" I'm sure this will be the subject of a future Ph.d. dissertation: A study on the effects of MySpace.com - increasing one's feeling of self-worth, while dumbing down the general populace.
And on that completely contradictory note: I'm so glad you did this! I forgot to tell you I approved of the idea, and highly approve of Madame Defarge! Well done, my little cabbage!
I'll have to keep that topic in mind in case I ever pursue a PhD. When do you leave to get stoned with the savages?
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