It’s no secret that I gave up Facebook this year for my non-religious but obligatory observance of Lent. Facebook to me is not just as website. It is a box in which I can keep all of my friends, and some people whose pictures I just like to go through at random. This box of friends enables me to socialize without the annoyances of actual human contact, putting on pants, and things like this. In giving up this integral part of my life, I was curious to see what would come of my spare hours (yes, hours). Perhaps I would learn new things or go “outside.” At the same time, I was afraid. What would I do without Facebook for 40 days? Would I even be able to communicate with any of my friends? Would I be exposed to any important YouTube videos? Would I die? I didn’t know. But now I do know, and the answers to those questions are sleep, and carrier pigeon, and some, and a little. It’s not just that simple, though. What you are about to read may shock you, but please believe every word. These are just a few of the things I did to replace my Facebook time:
1. I met a guy. We were texting for a while, and it was getting pretty serious. One afternoon I texted him something really clever like “Remember that old man from the pizza place?! LOL ;).” I mean, there was so much room for response. But when 30 minutes went by and he had not responded, I lost it. I began shouting, and flipped over a table in the Chipotle, creating quite a mess. I was subsequently arrested, but luckily I know Dog the Bounty Hunter’s number by heart. I used my one phonecall on him, and he was able to bail me out. Upon exiting the jailhouse, I got a response text. “Haha, so crazy 🙂 ROFL.”
2. I took up scatting. No one really got into it, though, so…
3. I had a baby. She was really cute, but I couldn’t quite figure out what her race was, so I just named her “Swagger” until I got the paternity tests back and could name her something more heritage-appropriate. One morning we went to Trader Joe’s. I took her out of the Baby Bjorn, because I thought it would be a convenient place to put my produce. She was in the cart, and I was chatting with the cashier, who was reallycool and gave me three tickets for bringing my own back. I was in a pretty great mood, but it wasn’t until I was already on the downtown 5 that I realized Swagger was missing. I made this face I was almost home, so I just let it go.
4. I started baking with wheat flour.
5. I was summoned to the basement of a Burlington Coat Factory, where I was met by none other than…Gayle King.
“I have something to tell you,” she said, blowing Cuban cigar smoke into my face.
“Spit it out, already,” I said, waving the smoke away. “This is really rude of you, you know? I have asthma.” She blew more smoke, and I began coughing. She laughed evily.
“Seriously, though,” she said. “What you need to know is…I’m your mother.” I slapped her across her face, and she across mine. “If I’ve learned anything from Joan Crawford,” she said, “it’s that Mommy does the slapping.”
“No wire hangers EVER!” I said. We both began to laugh, and then I hit her over the head with a brick just as my real mother popped out of a closet saying,
“April Fools!” She and I looked at each other and made this face :\, as Gayle lay weak and nearly motionless on the cold Burlington floor. Then I shrugged.
“Good one, Ma!” We high fived and went to get frozen yogurt.
Those are just a few of the bigger occurences of my Facebookless Lent. Honestly, I don’t think giving up The Book served much of a purpose. It’s like saying, I’m not gonna touch my nose for a week. Why would you do something like that? Just to say you did. And I did it. But now I’m back with a vengeance. I love it still, and I like to think it loves me back. But I know that I don’t need it, and that means something. Like some Michael Chabon character once said, “Distance makes the heart grow fronds.”