I've been Facebooked!

I'm sick of Facebook. There I said it. I admitted I hate the New Yorker and now I confess I'm sick of Facebook. "Enemy combatant" status I assume. Is there a site for "internet public enemies" and do they post pictures? I'd prefer if they use one from 10 or more years ago. Crap, what if they put my age? I'm so busted. Regardless, I have to say if I get another message from one of my "friends" on Facebook, I'm throwing my computer out the window. Sorry little buddies, but I just don't know what I'm supposed to do with you. To say nothing of the fact that I don't know who half of you are. And where were you when I really needed friends.....in high school!

Life has sure changed since the answering machine. It brings tears to my eyes to think of how excited I used to be to hear who called. "Erase/play" were such fun buttons. Next came the 10lb cell phone, which I couldn't afford or lift to my ear. I was shocked the day a friend called and said he was "on the corner of Michigan Ave. and Erie". Whoa! We're talkin' NASA! And then one of the bigger days of my life; I got a car phone. Ok, I have a small pathetic life. I HAD A CAR PHONE, could it get any better?

No, just more complicated. Now I'm a freaking slave to a cell phone, Twitter and Facebook. Leaving the cell phone behind by mistake gives me anxiety and a rash. I've destroyed purses ripping them apart seam by seam seaching desperately for the tiny object. "I know it's in here" I scream, throwing lipstick, my wallet,7 pens, and house keys on the floor of my car. Then I burst into tears. I need meds. Twitter, makes me nervous. Who's following me, who am I following, where are we going, aren't we there yet and did anyone bring a map? I have a "wall" thanks to Facebook. I write stupid things on it. I dread looking at it empty. Did I need a wall? No... I need a couch.