Showing posts with label Facebook Rehab - The Journal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Facebook Rehab - The Journal. Show all posts

Monday, June 22, 2009

Facebook Rehab 6: The Epilogue

Facebook Rehab 6: The Epilogue

By “Samantha Greene”

Michael Corleone and I have something in common besides a love for Diane Keaton: “Just when I thought I was out….they pull me back in.” Facebook is my Mafia godfather, forcing me to prostrate myself and kiss his ring daily in the form of status updates and socializing with people tens and a hundreds and thousands of miles away.

I made it all of twelve hours off Facebook. To my chagrin and secret pleasure, I have removed my “I’ll be deactivating my account” post because it’s just a reminder of how lily-livered I am. Who are we kidding? I’m not going anywhere. Know what? I think I’m okay with it too. To end with another quote of a powerful man: “I yam what I yam.”

See you on Facebook, my Friends!

Love,

Samantha


Thanks to all my Friends and friends who inspired me with their Facebook foibles. Samantha Greene is me. Samantha Greene is you. (But mostly she is me - times a thousand.) She is a cautionary tale for those of us who confuse the virtual with reality. As the delineation becomes more blurred before our very eyes, Samantha Greene has helped me take a magnifying glass to this new socialization phenomenon, gazing at wonder and fascination at its strange newness.

Is it a fad or a trend? I guess we’ll find out together.

See you on Facebook, my Friends! Love, Pam


To read more first person essays that are not about Facebook, read

“My Nephew is a Poodle (and Other Random Thoughts)” at www.pamvictor.blogspot.com.

Facebook Rehab 5: The Group Therapy App

Facebook Rehab 5: The Group Therapy App
By “Samantha Greene”

Clearly, I hit a bump in the road last night, and it bounced me right off the wagon and flat on my ass. It was more than just a slip - I was glued to Facebook until the wee hours of the night. Besides posting umpteen Status Updates, I took the following quizzes: What is Your NPR Personality? The Kitchen Gadget Quiz, What Kind of Mask Do You Wear?, When Will You Die? (but I didn’t look at the answer because I got freaked out,) and three different IQ tests (one of which I kept taking until I scored well, and then I posted those results to my Wall.) I added six Pieces of Flair and voted in a dozen Polls (the toilet paper one was included in that count, naturally.) I downloaded the Fortune Cookie app. I played Texas Hold Em Poker and created a virtual restaurant in Restaurant City. I sent seven Growing Gifts and a bunch of Friend Hugs. I also had my Profile Photo turned into a sketch with the Sketch Me app. In short, the integrity of the dam was compromised, and a tsunami washed me out deep into Facebook waters.

I woke up this morning with the imprints of the keyboard on my cheek, a throbbing headache and reeking of shame. It took my eyes twenty minutes just to regain the ability to focus long distance. I had come so far in my FB detox, and now I am back on square one. I’m so disappointed! I had finally gotten to the point where I wasn’t thinking in Status Updates and referring to myself in the third person. Now I’m right back in the thick of it, stuck in the Status Update groove. Samantha Greene feels day-after regrets. Samantha Greene sometimes sort of craves a good éclair. Samantha Green wants to marry Tina Fey just to get on “30 Rock.” Samantha Greene cries “Hot summer streets.
And the pavements are burning.
 I sit around trying to smile, but the air is so heavy and dry.”

After an emergency email to my Cyber Addictive Personality Syndrome therapist, I finally took her advice to Fan the CAPS group therapy circle. I went to my first meeting an hour ago. It actually was quite eye opening. And I thought I was messed up - you should see these people! There were five of us communicating there on the page, but I could sense there were dozens just watching and hundreds more who needed to be there.

This one woman, who called herself “Tristan’s Ex,” had developed localized arthritis from hitting the refresh button so often on her ex-boyfriend Tristan’s Profile Page. Now she has to use a specially designed wand held between her teeth in order to type. Turns out, Tristan dumped her last month, and she can’t figure out why. They seemed to have it so good. (I saw the photos from their house party in March. It looked like a lot of fun. They were a cute couple.) Then all of the sudden, he stopped posting to her Wall. The truth of the matter didn’t hit her until he de-Friended her. That’s how she found out they were broken up! That’s cold, man. Next thing you know, Tristan’s Ex wasn’t invited to parties anymore, but she would see pictures of Tristan and his new girlfriend (who looked a lot like Mike Tyson according to her, and I gotta say I agree) on their mutual Friends’ pages. Last week, Tristan’s Ex ran into a Friend at the mall, who informed her that Tristan had changed his Relationship Status to “Engaged.” Poor, poor Tristan’s Ex!

And there was another guy called Lonely Boy. He is a serial Friend collector. He wouldn’t tell us his current Friend count, but I’m pretty sure it’s in the four digits, at least. Lonely Boy posted, “I need to think I have friends! Even if I am a voyeur and only sit and watch all the fun other people are having, living vicariously. When I’m on Facebook, I feel popular.” Oh, Lonely Boy, how many Friends will it take to make you feel worthwhile?

Shop ‘n Cry was this chick who was in total denial about her problem. Even though there wasn’t an application she didn’t use, she still rationalized being fired from her job for being online too much. “Everybody does it!” she posted defensively. “Everybody spends seven hours a day on FB. They pretend to be doing work when I walk by, but I can tell they’ve been posting stuff to their Walls.” Shop ‘n Cry was a big finger pointer, “I consider my FB usage to be appropriate, but you guys definitely have a problem.” I think she needs to hit rock bottom before she can start healing.

Random Dude was there too, but he was so ambiguous that at first I had a hard time figuring him out. This guy couldn’t even post regular sentences anymore. Every single thing he wrote was either some arbitrary collection of words, or else song lyrics or quotes from movies and TV shows. It was hard to get a read on Random Dude when he posted stuff like, “Trident gum,” but I sense it was a cry for help. As were his other contributions to our therapy session, like “I'm going to take a pillowcase and fill it full of bars of soap and beat the shit out of you!” and “Oh, you may stray, but you'll always return to your dark master... The cocoa bean! And only the purest syrup nectar can satisfy you. If you could, you'd guzzle it by the gallon... Ovaltine!? Hershey!? Nestle Quick!?" But nothing was more heartbreaking than Random Dude’s final post of the session, “Chiquitita, tell me the truth. I’m a shoulder you can cry on. Your best friend, I’m the one you must rely on. You were always sure of yourself. Now I see you’ve broken a feather. I hope we can patch it up together.” I feel like Random Dude and I really made a connection today. I’m definitely going to Friend him if he requests it. Together, we took one step closer to our recovery. I think he’s going to make it. I really do.

I guess what I really got out of the group therapy session today was that the only way to break my addiction to Facebook is to completely cut the cord. Yes, it’s terrifying. Yes, I’m not sure if I have the gumption it takes to return to a world devoid of online social connections. Surely, the face-to-face interactions will see paler and shallower in contrast to my previously vivid, Technicolor lifestyle. But I don’t want to end up in my parent’s basement, using a pencil in my mouth to hunt and peck on a keyboard. Random Dude is right that I’ve “broken a feather,” my soul feather that is.

Therefore, I have posted the following final message on my Facebook page:
“Samantha Greene has decided to go off Facebook. Thanks for all the joy and the tears, the pleasure and the pain, the good times and the bad. You will always be my Friends 4ever. I love you guys! My Page will be disabled officially in three days. See you in the real world.”


How will Sam fare in the real world?
Stay tuned for the final installment of Facebook Rehab!


To read more essays by Pam Victor, check out “My Nephew is a Poodle (and Other Random Thoughts)” at www.pamvictor.blogspot.com.

Facebook Rehab 4: Strike of The Enabler by "Samantha Greene"

Facebook Rehab 4: Strike of The Enabler

By “Samantha Greene”

It’s my usual time to Facebook. I’m wearing my favorite FB sweats, sitting in my comfortable chair, got the incense and a glass of red by the computer. In short, I’m in full frontal Facebook mode. But I’ve absolutely squandered my allotted 15 minutes earlier today, so I’m not supposed to log on. Grrrrrr!!!!

Earlier this evening, my friend Farrah asked me today why I’m doing this Facebook detox, so I gave her the line we’re trained to give: “Because Facebook has more control over me than I have over it.” I felt so high and mighty as I was saying it, but then she had this confused look, and she looked me right in the eye and asked me how else we were going to hang out if not on Facebook. And I started thinking, She’s totally right! How are we going to hang out? Why AM I doing this stupid detox?

The truth is, I had to go into therapy for my CAPS (Cyber Addictive Personality Syndrome,) and my therapist ordered me to go on immediate FB detox. It wasn’t my idea at all. And now I’m kind of pissed at my therapist because what if she’s wrong? What if I don’t really have a pathological case of Cyber Addictive Personality Syndrome? Maybe I’m just suffering from just a low-grade, passing virus which antibiotics can’t cure anyway. Maybe I just need to wait it out. Maybe I’m someone who just needs to moderate a little.

Everyone else can go on Facebook without limitations. Why can’t I be just like everyone else?

Sonofabitch. I swear to you that just as I was writing the previous sentence I heard my FB Chat noise make that lovely bubbling pop. It was my Friend Farrah. We just hung out this evening, and now she wants to talk about the stuff we talked about while we were hanging out. She KNOWS about my FB diet, but she totally doesn’t take it seriously. She thinks it’s a joke. (I think she’s denial. She is the one who really has a problem. I mean we just hung out a half-hour ago, and she totally wants to Chat now!) She’s an enabler, that’s what she is. I’m just going to take a quick peek on to FB, just to tell her that I can’t Chat now.

Damn, that was hard. Now that I got a little whiff of it, I totally want to go back on Facebook. I got the FB jimmies something fierce right now. So what if I’ve already used up my 15 minutes? That’s such a random number. Ok, the therapist specifically put me on “The 15-Minute-A-Day Diet,” but maybe that’s just an arbitrary number. Maybe someone else’s 15 minutes are like my 30 minutes or even one hour. Maybe one hour per day of Facebook time is the right amount for me?

I actually do think I can be like everyone else who can use Facebook recreationally. My therapist was totally off the wall. She probably sees so many patients that she gets us confused. There is probably somebody named “Sam Groon” who is completely fucked up addicted to Facebook, and she gave me Sam Groon’s 15-minute time restriction. Probably she meant to tell me that one, maybe even two or three hours a day is appropriate for me. I can handle Facebook, man.

I’m not even a true addict, despite what my kids say. Damn kids. What do they know? You should see their Facebook pages. Crap. Utter crap. No matter how much I encourage them to work on their Pages, they still won’t settle on their Favorite Quotes or even do something normal like play Scramble, “Send Coffee” to someone, or join Mafia Wars. They used their photos from friggin’ Picture Day at school for their Profile Photos! How lame is that?! Can’t believe those cretins came out of my uterus.

Anyway, this is all to say that it is fine, just fine, for me to go on Facebook for longer than 15 minutes today. Furthermore, I am NOT going to download that stupid-assed Facebook Rehab Group Therapy App tomorrow like my therapist suggested. I don’t want to hang out with some fucking losers who can’t handle their Facebook like I can.

I gotta go. And screw that therapist who says I can’t use chatspeak:

L8r 4 U


Will she succumb to The Enabler? Stay tuned tomorrow for Day Four in Samantha Greene’s Facebook withdrawal program! Same time! Same channel!

To read other humorous essays, go to

My Nephew is a Poodle (and Other Random Thoughts)

at www.pamvictor.blogspot.com.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

"Facebook Rehab 3: Cruel Mistress by Samantha Greene

Facebook Rehab 3: Cruel Mistress
By “Samantha Greene”


Warning: The following is a diary of one woman’s Facebook withdrawal program. Because of the intense nature of this endeavor, material in here will not be suitable for young readers and those with delicate sensibilities. Reader discretion is advised.



Today is Day Two of my self-imposed withdrawal program from Facebook, and I’m afraid I have not used wisely my 15 minutes ration of FB time today. I squandered opportunities at real social connection in favor of mind-numbing applications in search of self-knowledge in a no-man’s land of perceptiveness. Apologies for my verbosity. The FB D.T.’s render me esoteric.


However my ruminations have led me to this succinct conclusion: Facebook is a cruel mistress indeed. (I am pretty sure I’m not the first one to say that. In fact, I’m almost positive I stole the phrase “Facebook is a cruel mistress” from one of my Friends. If it was you, please post a Comment onto this Note to garner the credit you so deserve. If nobody posts, then clearly I made it up myself.)


Yes, as I so wittily and originally remarked, Facebook is a cruel mistress indeed. She takes and takes and takes until you find yourself huddled in a dark, cold room at an hour far past when all decent humans go to sleep with your eyeballs bleeding as you’re hunched over the computer with a self-inflicted case of osteoporosis, and you’re taking the “What Happy Days Character Are You?” quiz for the fourth time, hoping against hope that you don’t get Potsie. Again.


I believe Day 2 is the time for “taking inventory.” Unfortunately, I don’t know what that “taking inventory” means exactly, but it sounds appealingly like list-making and Mama loves her some bullets. So here it goes…


Excuses I’ve used for in the past going on FB for obscenely long periods of time:

·    Professional Networking – This one is my favorites. In my defense, I did get a gig from Facebook, so this excuse is a valid one. Plus I am able to spy on other people in my field to make sure they aren’t getting better gigs than me.

·
     Re-Connecting with Old Friends – What a joy to be back in touch with people from preschool! I loved those folks so much, and I love the fact that FB has allowed me to get back in touch with those old friends…who it turns out don’t really care too much about staying in contact with me or they WOULD HAVE BEEN IN MY LIFE ALL ALONG! (Seriously though, I still am psyched to have reunited with my old friends, whether or not they return the sentiment. You guys rock…Call me?)



    · Honing My Craft – I fancy myself a comedian and FB is a great place to make funny to a wide audience. Hopefully, my cyber-community shares my sense of humor when I post “What is that funky smell in here?” at 2:01am and then “Oh, I found the source of that smell!” at 2:09am and then “How did that get in my underwear drawer?” at 2:23am and then “Who would have thought a cheese sandwich still tastes good after spending two weeks in an underwear drawer?” at 2:31, and then “Stomach. Ouch,” at 3:10am. Hopefully, my cyber-community is not thinking, “Don’t hire Samantha Greene for any comedy job. Ever.” But you never know. Comedy means pushing the envelope.

     
     · Socialization –Facebook is a great opportunity to socialize with “adults” during the day. Ok, forget it. Even I am not buying that one.
  

·     Support System – Facebook is a great place to get support from Friends when you’re going through a hard time. Although now that I think about it, anybody who has posted anything of actual significance knows that’s a crock of shit. There seems to be a direct correlation between amount of pain your Post reflects and the level of sarcasm and ridicule in the responding Comments.


·     Stalking People – There, I said it. I am not proud.

So there you go, folks. A list of the reasons why Facebook is an important part of my life.


Hmmmm. That was inventory taking?


I don’t get it.

 Will she stay on the FB wagon? Stay tuned tomorrow for Day Three in Samantha Greene’s Facebook withdrawal program! Same time! Same channel!

To read other humorous essays, go to
My Nephew is a Poodle (and Other Random Thoughts)

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Facebook Rehab 2: Day One of the Rest of My Life by "Samantha Greene"

Facebook Rehab 2: Day One of the Rest of My Life

By “Samantha Greene”

Warning: The following is a diary of one woman’s Facebook withdrawal program. Because of the intense nature of this endeavor, material in here will not be suitable for young readers and those with delicate sensibilities. Reader discretion is advised.

Ok, I spent 17 minutes on FFB (Fuckin’ Facebook) today, which is barely enough time to do anything, but it was great. I didn’t even post once! (Pretty much only because I couldn’t think of anything suitably witty and smart to represent my entire day. But still, it counts.) And I only responded to one person’s post, and even then my response was uninspired and banal enough to fend off any potential banter or repartee.

Full confession: I did allow myself to read the emails of postings and Inbox messages sent to my Gmail account. Is that cheating or deal-making? I’m going to go with “no” on that one. After all, email is fair game.

Is that like saying I can drink beer but no alcohol?

Whatever.

One day at a time, bee-atch.


Later that night…

The whole house is quiet, tucked away in their bedrooms. The dog is snoring. And I got da itchy fingers and I got dem bad. See? I’m even slipping into Buckwheat in a racist attempt to divert your attention from my jones for the FB.

I wonder who is online right now. I wonder if someone wants to Chat with me. Sometimes my sound alert doesn’t work on the Chat, so maybe someone is on there right now saying “You there? I see you online. Where are you? Why aren’t you answering me? Are you mad at me, Samantha? How dare you! I hate you, and I’m de-Friending you right this second if you don’t answer me. Ok. Here I go. Bam. You’re de-Friended. How you like them apples?”

Crap. Now I just lost an imaginary Friend thanks to you and your stupid-assed, holier-than-thou idea to get control of my FFB usage. Yes, I’m blaming it on you, you skank. Why? Because of all the virtual sneers you’ve been making at your computers. You think I can’t sense that? There you are on your social networking throne, sooooo judgmental about my FFB posts. So what if I post a lot? You should talk, you non-poster you. Judge. Judge. Judge. You think you’re so blameless, you judgy Judge Judy? Well, if it weren’t for you being so in control of your FFB time, then I wouldn’t look so empty and pitiful in contrast. Oh, and you non-FB users think you’re so much better than me? Well, let me tell you something. You can’t handle the truth. Guantanamo, my ass. Try getting out of Facebook!

Oops.

I believe you’ve just witnessed the anger phase. Sorry you had to see that.

And sorry for calling you a skank.


Stay tuned tomorrow for Day Two in Samantha Greene’s Facebook withdrawal program! Same time! Same channel!

To read other humorous essays, go to

My Nephew is a Poodle (and Other Random Thoughts)

at www.pamvictor.blogspot.com.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

"Facebook Rehab" by Samantha Greene

Facebook Rehab

By “Samantha Greene”

Warning: The following is a diary of one woman’s Facebook withdrawal program. Because of the intense nature of this endeavor, material in here will not be suitable for young readers and those with delicate sensibilities. Reader discretion is advised.


Day 0: Goodbye My “Friend”

Tomorrow is Day One for weaning myself off Facebook. Well, actually, today was supposed to be Day One but I failed miserably, so tomorrow will be a do-over. If they say the first step is admitting it, then I guess I’m admitting it.

Hi, my name is Samantha, and I’m a Facebook addict.

I should have known better. The signs were there from the beginning, but I ignored them because I didn’t want to think I was the kind of person who had such a weak character. Officially, I don’t have an “addictive personality.” Or so I thought. I knew that Facebook was a heady drug, but I thought I could handle it. I thought I was strong enough to play with the big boys. (And by “big boys” I mean other adolescents at heart.)

The first day I signed on to Facebook, at the dawn of 2009, a friend tried to warn me. She posted on my Wall, “Welcome to the jungle, Sam. Be careful.” Tra la la and hardy-har-har, I thought. I was arrogant enough to shoot off a response that assured her that I promised myself not to even fix up my FB profile until the February, when I would have more free time. What a farce. Within the week, I had my Facebook Profile adorned with bumper stickers and Flair buttons. By the time February rolled around, I was already so neck-deep in the Facebook quicksand of time- and spirit-suck that there was no way I was getting out any time soon. Little did I know that I hadn’t even hit bottom yet…

I think I’m also supposed to admit that I don’t have control over my Facebook usage. It has control over me. It even has a voice, my Facebook page, which you will only appreciate if you watched a lot of quality bad television in the 1970s. My Facebook page sounds like the alien temptress from the “Lost in Space” episode when the hot, green alien tries to lure Dr. Smith out of the spaceship. “Doctor Smiiii-iiith,” she sang as she floated by, “Doctor Smiii-iiiith.” Likewise, my computer sings to me, “Saaaa-aaaam. You have updaaaaa-aaates. Friends have posted funny stuff on your Waaaaa-aaaalllll.” So, yes, I admit it. I am adrift in a pathetic sea of incapacity, lame clips of people falling down, and repulsive Youtube links. I am morally feeble, like a sailor destined to slam on a rocky coast helplessly abiding the siren’s call.

Today I promised myself not to check my Facebook page more than three times. Like a medicine taken at mealtime, I swore I could abide by this generous deal. But, no, it turns out I couldn’t. Not even close.

I am powerless over Facebook, and my life has become unmanageable.

Perhaps I should go cold turkey. But not until tomorrow. Or the next day, maybe the next day. But what is “cold turkey” anyway? Does it mean I can read but just can’t post? Can I read the updates sent to my email? Just not take any quizzes for a day? Yes, my friend – or worse, pity for you if you are my Friend! - I hear the desperate deal-making going on here. I disgust even myself.

Goals for tomorrow: Spend no more than 15 minutes IN TOTAL on Facebook. I can divvy the time up as it suits me. No more than one post of my own. No more than three responses to other people’s post. (Even now, already, I am brokering for more. Originally, I typed “two responses” but then quickly deleted it to amend it to three. Ugly, ugly, ugly.) Tomorrow, I will start cutting away at the control Facebook has over my life.

Right after put up a funny Status Update I just thought of….


Stay tuned tomorrow for Day One in Samantha Greene’s Facebook withdrawal program! Same time! Same channel!

To read other humorous essays, go to

My Nephew is a Poodle (and Other Random Thoughts)

at www.pamvictor.blogspot.com.