Facebook and The Ghosts of Marriages Past

Ahh, the world of social utilities.  The hot spot for narcissists and prom queens.  The place to reconnect with all the people you went to high school with and who you really never cared to connect with again, but hey – it’s kinda cool cuz your “friend list” grows.  The place to mess with friends’ statuses should they unwittingly forget to logout.  (Won’t everyone be surprised to learn your friend Jayson is gay or that Susan, in fact does, “like it rough.”) Oh, and let’s not forget, the place where everybody cares about the stupid crap you are doing every single moment of every single day.  All this greatness must come with a drawback, right?  And, I’ll tell you what it is: the sneaky advertisements lurking around every corner.  Sometimes I feel like big brother IS watching.  Just the other day the ad said, are you a restaurant manager? “Umm,” I slowly whispered while checking over both my shoulders, “Yes, I am.” How in the hell do the people at Facebook know these things?

But wait, it gets worse.  Much worse.  Bone chilling in fact.  It’s frightening enough to make your skin crawl and to send shivers down your spine.  The “you may know” feature.  How do you know, Facebook, who I may know?  And, why, for the love of all that is holy, are you always right?  And, furthermore, Facebook why would you do something so cruel as to say “you may know” and feature beneath that the name and picture of my ex-husband.  Now you’re speaking “know” in the biblical sense, I presume.

The image of a man, I haven’t spoken to in eleven years, is now staring me in the face on All Hallow’s Eve.  Frightening? Yes.  Weird? Definitely.  Awkward? Not so much.  So here he is.  Joe X, playing with His dog in front of His big screen TV in His house (presumably His New Wife is taking the picture).  It seems so long ago that we were an intimate part of one another’s lives.  A tiny family unit.  All the memories of Christmases, Thanksgivings, parties, quiet moments and fights come rushing back.

So thanks, Facebook, for the memories of something I was still trying to forget.  I appreciate it.  With all of the great things you offer in a “social utility,” I hope you’ll forgive me if I now cancel my account to maintain a little bit of my privacy and what is left of my sanity.  Jerks.