In one of my manic fits, spurred by boredom at work and an unsafe amount of iced coffee, I joined a random online social network for bloggers in what I was quite sure was a brilliant scheme to increase my site traffic thereby disseminating my Incredibly Important Drivel to the masses. But what group to choose? Which category do I belong to? Do I fall into a category? In high school, I was part of the misfit group which is actually another phrase for “miscellaneous.” It just happens we were all miscellaneously awesome and all hated the cheerleaders. And smoked a lot of pot. Maybe I was a pothead and not a misfit?
After several tense minutes of serious contemplation I decided I should belong to a group called “Seriously Awesome Twenty-Something Female Bloggers with No Career Aspirations but a Strong Inclination Towards Rum, Fuzzy Animals, Trouble Making and Books.” Unable to find such a group, I slowly eliminated key words until I was left with Twenty-Something Bloggers. I joined it and waited for fame to erupt and Houghton-Mifflin to offer me a book deal while apologizing for rejecting me five times for their editorial assistant positions.
That didn’t so much happen. A day in, I was slammed with friend-requests from cute blond 21-year-old college kids (and I could very well be alienating them right now if any of them actually read this but in all fairness, Princess, you are a 21-year-old blond college girl) with no discernable commonalities other than our gender and general age group. I poked around on some of the members’ blogs and, granted, found a few that I would consider admitting to my imaginary club, but for the most part they appeared to be slightly older versions of the high school crowd that I despised. What in God’s name was I doing in the girl’s locker room after cheerleading practice let out?? I should be out back smoking a joint!
With chagrin, I realized I’d fallen into the same social network trap I’d neatly avoided on AIM and Facebook: granting friendship status to complete strangers for the sake of having more “friends.” It’s nothing new. It predates online social networks by decades, centuries even, if you consider what the life of a courtier in medieval Europe was like. Just back in high school, the tendency was evident in the types portrayed by Melissa Joan Heart in Can’t Hardly Wait who must, must, MUST have everyone in the school sign her yearbook. Online networks have just made it more obvious, what with the email notifications filling up your inbox and the pictures of people you’ve never heard of displayed under a banner reading “My Friends.” The visual queues certainly brought it to MY attention if no one else’s.
The original point of these networks, diluted as that purpose may be, was to stay in touch with those you know, maybe pick up a few new buddies along the way, but either way to form some sort of genuine albeit shallow connection to another human. Not to gather an immense bundle of names to display as evidence of your own self-importance and popularity.
I’m moderately embarrassed to admit I joined for the same reason I assume many others did: to shamelessly advertise my blog while barely glancing at the others. So, unlike my AIM and Facebook accounts (both of which I routinely purge to eliminate those who I am not, in fact, friends with), I went ahead and canceled the whole damn thing. So, sorry for being a cock tease, Twenty-Something Bloggers. You’ll have to enjoy the pep rally without me.
2 comments:
You cock tease, you!
I joined THIRTY SOMETHING BLOGGERS, which, sadly, you cannot. You just aren't old and dried up enough. Anyhoo, some girls I know through the blogosphere were on there, and I have met a few more, and they are all quite lovely and fun. Maybe you should try another group. Oooooh - or LIE and say you're thirty and get into my group.
Or. Um. Drink some rum?
YAY RUM!!!
But why stop there? Let's infiltrate 40-something bloggers, too. We'll learn there ways so by the time we're that age, we'll be queens of the domain.
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