________ will miss you.
I did it. I clicked the option: “This is temporary. I’ll be back” and officially deactivated my Facebook account. Although it was a somewhat spur of the moment decision, Facebook didn’t make my exit process easy. In fact, on the last page, above the options as to why I was leaving, photos of me and my best friends lined the page, attached with the tagline “_______ will miss you. Send ______ a message.”
I laughed at the irony of Facebooks last attempts to keep me a part of their booming social network. I smirked and wondered, “Really?? Is ___________ really going to miss me? Because the last time I checked, I wrote a heartfelt message on her wall to which I received no answer.”
I, like any young person, or ANY person for that matter, am looking for connections. Not connections that lead me to an impressive resume, or show how many thousands of friends I have, but rather, I am looking for deep meaning in the relationships that I work to maintain in my life. I started to find that when I looked at my relationships on Facebook for truly what they were, I realized that they weren’t relationships at all. To me, a relationship is not writing “I miss you!” and “OMG,I miss you, too!! xoxo” repeatedly over the course of a year without seeing that person once in the flesh. I found myself guilty of these fake, impersonal exchanges and began to sign in to Facebook, with an underlying feeling of disgust.
I became disgusted that I fell for it. I fell for signing on only to judge every update or picture I saw. I’d see girls my age getting married and having children. I’d see new apartments, luxury vacations, and melodramatic status updates full of complaints on the hour, every hour followed by a bevy of OMG’s and FML’s. I fell into the trap of updating my “mobile uploads” album, every single time I did something I deemed face book worthy.
And so, I decided that these are not what relationships or friendships are or should be. At least, they are not the kind that I care to maintain. I decided that I want to see my friends and talk to them, even if that means calling them on the phone (and don’t get me started about the lost art of writing a letter).
I once heard the saying, “The people who want to be in your life will always find a way to be.” I heard this while I was still a actively Facebooking. I remember wanting to believe its veracity, but deep down I doubted it to be possible, considering the myriad of social networks used today. However, 2012 came and a few days later, my name was no longer to be found on Facebook.
A funny thing has happened since I have deactivated my account. I am hearing from friends. They are reaching out in an authentic way, to connect. I’ll find a missed call or a text saying, “Let’s get coffee.” I am marveling at how rewarding and actually, revealing it is to hear a friend’s voice, picking up on small telling pauses and eager laughter- those unique human tendencies that make relationships so complex.
On Facebook, it has become all too easy to dodge being held accountable for what we say and often, what we don’t say. Those empty wall-to-wall exchanges have made it far too easy to successfully master the illusion of friendship. Unconsciously, we have made ourselves one-dimensional.
But, I suppose it is true. The people who want to be in your life, will find a way to be. I think our challenge in this day and age is to rid ourselves of the avenues that keep us ignorant to what a real human relationship is. Once we choose to take our own personal blinders off, we are free to see the people who desire to be in our lives. We are free to believe them when they say, “I miss you.” And, personally, I will take a real-life hug over a poke-war, any day.
homesick for the place you’ve never been.
There was a feeling of relief— a feeling of Oh, here you are, finally. And this is what you look like. And this is what your voice sounds like. And this is the set of your childhood memories. I’d thought I’d been looking, but really, I was just waiting for him without knowing that I was waiting, without knowing that I missed him. I thought the ache was a restless lonesomeness, but it was more like homesickness for a place you haven’t yet come to.
To do a dull thing with style-now that’s what I call art. Charles Bukowski
You Can’t Take It With You.
“What do you think you get your indigestion from? Happiness? No, sir. You get it because most of your time is spent in doing things you don’t want to do. You’ve got the all the money you need. You can’t take it with you… And what’s it got you? Same kind of meal every morning, same kind of deals, same kind of meetings, same dinners at night, same indigestion. Where does the fun come in? Don’t you think there ought to be something more? You must have wanted more than that when you started out. We haven’t got too much time, you know - any of us.”
I read the play You Can’t Take It With You about a year ago and from time to time, I find myself leafing through the thinly worn playbook, reading the dialogue. It is an incredibly charming work of art that is centered around the brilliantly eccentric Vanderhof family. Throughout the play, it becomes quite evident that thematically, personal happiness and success are the play’s two most important subjects. The question of ‘HOW is success measured?” is asked of each character continually throughout the play.
It makes me wonder too, how is success measured? And, can it be measured? Can you really qualify your own or even another’s personal happiness as being good enough? I don’t think you can, and truly, I don’t think I can. Who am I to judge what makes someone else feel good and accomplished? I try to avoid judging others, nothing good can come of it. In my opinion, it’s a downward spiral into a vortex of negative energy which only ends in your own self-hatred.
I am always surprised by the insight and sense of wonder this play evokes in me. I love the message of this play, which is incredibly simple and lovely. It is about exploring all areas of life, to find what speaks to your soul. It is a reminder to question what is most right for YOU- as only you are able to. It is about searching for your own bliss, finding it, and living from that center. It is about ridding yourself of society’s expectations regarding all of the extraneous bullshit, like your salary or what kind of car you drive. ALL of that is merely superfluous, meant to boost your sensitive ego.
The point is, you can’t take it with you. None of it- not the money, not your pimped-out Range Rover, and not even the truly good stuff like friendship and love. I believe that there is an abundance of happiness to be discovered in this sentiment, in remembering the transitory nature of human life. We can’t take it with us, so why not give all our good stuff away?
Terrible Twenties.
A conversation between two friends.
Friend 1: I met him the other night at the gym. Did I mention that I was there with my WHOLE family working out? They stood awkwardly behind me like they were the secret service.
Friend 2: That sounds like me. I saw too many people at the gym with my siblings last night. I wish I was wearing a sign around my neck that read: ”We don’t do this often, I promise.”
Friend 1: I have to move out immediately. I’m regressing by the minute and it is NOT good. I think I’m 15 years old at this point.
Friend 2: I know. I’m like: please let me get a job in NYC soon before I lose my sanity.
My boss and I got into an argument today and all I wanted to say was, “I’m telling my Mom!”
Friend 1: ’Cause you know your mom would be piiiiissssed.
Friend 2: Exactly. It doesn’t help the fact that it makes me feel like a bucktoothed 16 year old that wears Abercrombie graphic tees.
Friend 1: Instead of being one of those annoying girls who incessantly talks about her boyfriend or husband, I talk about my Mom and little sister like they’re my significant others. Let’s not forget how much I reference my CAT, who doesn’t leave my room. It’s gross.
Friend 2: I don’t even have that! I have Facebook and television references to “How I Met Your Mother,” and “Modern Family.”
Friend 1: I’m pretty disturbed that no one mentioned that the 20’s were going to be like this..
Friend 2: If this isn’t my quarter life crisis, I’m setting myself up for a serious fall.
Friend 1: I couldn’t agree more. If it gets worse than this, I’m renaming it the Terrible Twenties.
Friend 2: I was just telling girls at work I love being single because I can do whatever I want.. when in reality I don’t do anything at all.
Friend 1: At least you can pretend to love being single, I can’t even fake it. I’ve become so bitter about being single… I feel like I’m trapped in a bad movie where couples walk around smiling at each other and laughing in slow motion.
Friend 2: I think I talk myself off the edge so much that I’m delusional.
Friend 1: I need to get away somewhere. Maybe to a middle-aged ladies resort. Or, at least somewhere where a professional can teach me how to act my age.
Friend 2: If there is such a thing, I’m taking up residency.
Friend 1: Like canyon ranch..or maybe just Sunrise Senior Living.
Friend 2: Oh my god, stop. I’d die….Get a 7 day back massage while crying about my life. And five hour bingo on Tuesdays!
Friend 1: And can we talk about the wonders of adult diapers? “Sorry I can’t get up to go to the bathroom, I’m far too comfortable growing into the couch, looking amazing in my matching velour sweatsuit and slippers.” And have I mentioned, I haven’t washed my hair in 3 weeks?
Friend 2: That sounds like heaven. Plus yams. I live for yams. And apple juice.
