I've been sucked into the vortex of myspace. I'd like to say it's Laura's fault, since she was talking about it the other day, but obviously it's all my own doing. My own, nosy doing. Because I SO wanted to see if I could find any of the people I went to high school with on there, or whatever. And I did. It was crazy. All the people my friend Jamie and I were discussing a couple of weeks ago in a "wonder what the hell happened to them" themed conversation were there. Well, most of them. A lot of them. And what can you really gather from a myspace profile. Everything looks better on paper, right? But a few pictures, a few specs--mainly the ones you'd spout off in a meaningless small-talky conversation at, say, a 10-YEAR REUNION, i.e. job, marital status, kids/no kids, are there. And it's something. Along with a few pictures. It makes me feel "connected," if only in a superficial way. I guess. The trouble is, I can't fucking stop messing with the myspace. Making the background pretty, uploading pictures, yadda yadda. And, most obsessively, I keep thinking of more people to look up and beg to be my "friend."
So far I've found:
1. An ex-boyfriend from college who is married now and has 2 kids. We dated for nearly 3 years, I dumped him because I just wasn't in love--and no, this wasn't even the grad-school BF, people. (The G-S BF would never put any of his information online, I'm sure of it.) Although, I was kind of surprised this other ex-boyfriend did. Shocked, in fact. His family's cute. He seems all different. Though, what did I expect--I am, too. Or at least, I hope to hell I am. Geez. Anyway, he's married to the girl he started dating about...mmm, 3 or 4 months after we broke up. I guess I didn't mean that much to him, either. And yet none of this information really phases me too much. I'm like, huh. Whatever. That's cool.
2. A multitude of high school peeps. People I haven't seen in 10 YEARS, because my family moved several states away from upstate NY less than a week after I graduated high school. And I've only been back twice. And most of the people aren't even there anymore, anyway, they live in all sorts of places. It's weird. We all went to school for 6 years together, and 10 years later, a fucking lifetime, really, I haven't the slightest idea what I would even say to them in a conversation, email or otherwise. Um, how's it going? So I just click the "friend" button and keep moving. I don't know where, if anywhere, it will go after that.
And you know, it does all look better on paper, and yet--I don't know. There's something in "the facts," I guess. It's like this compulsion to know where he or she went to school, where they might be working now, whether or not they're still single, what town they are living in. As though the basics give some deep insight to one's inner workings. Clearly they don't. And with my own info, it's not like I'm bragging. As Jamie said (about herself, but I feel the same way), "What the hell would I say? It's not like my life's such a gem." I mean, we're not complaining, life is pretty good and all, but it's like--whatever delusions we all might have had growing up about Who We'd Be and What We'd Do, clearly none of that ever happened. The big job, the fame, the fortune. What was I dreaming of, anyway. And why did it take so long to sink in that your "average" existence, a spouse, some kids, a home, a pet--the things we grew up with--was all we'd ever have, and all we would ever really want, anyway.
I guess I shouldn't speak for anyone else. And I do still dream. I don't feel like I "sold out" or "gave up" or anything. I feel content, really, when it comes down to it. And then (as an aside) here I am, obsessing these days about How Fast Time Goes, but good god, if high school doesn't feel like it happened another freaking lifetime ago. It almost makes me feel better, just seeing now, today, how much really can happen in 10 whole years, and that it doesn't go by so fast. Not really.
Anyway, I'm not even sure why I'm really doing it--myspace, I mean. Other than that I'm curious about people I've known, on whatever level, and this offers a little something. And if they're curious about me, there I am.
Spinny-eyed, absentee wife of J.Lo, addicted to the myspace. No really, I'm going to go do something different now. Read a book or paint my toenails or something. I mean that.
P.S. if you did add me as a "friend," thank you. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
5 comments:
The myspace is insanely addictive. I almost went all batshit and deleted my site at one point but, much like with the blog, thought, fuck it. I think all of my writings about self make me look worse on paper, though. Average taste in music, and a little nuts to boot? Or maybe myspace just has me pegged.
I had never considered that profile questions might actually make us all seem even more boring. Shit. Although I had a "friend" request yesterday from some stranger who apparently picked up on my profile because I like The Beatles. Wha? Doesn't everyone like the Beatles? In fact, I almost didn't even put The Beatles because I thought it was a given. Oh well, he's probably some pervert with a Beatles fan fetish. Yuck.
To be a part of the group but stand out, but not so different as to say you don't want to be a part of the group. How is this done?
It's like walking a tightrope.
MySpace creeps me out, but yet I have a page just like everyone else under the age of 50. Why? Because I don't want to be left out? I think that's it. And it's fun when people find me and ask to be my friend. Because that means at some point, they thought, "You know who I should see if they're on here? Kim." You have to admit, it's pretty sweet to think that somewhere, totally unrelated to what you're doing right now, someone has thought to seek you out.
In the meantime, I'm totally adding you as a friend. You can be in my Top 8. Lucky.
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