I was initially skeptical of Face Book. Odd that those same people who seemed previously oblivious to my existance should be sending me "friend" requests so late in the game.
"Wow." Says I, "I really misjudged these people and their feelings for me." No I did not, I realized the moment I spotted the "friend" tally under my profile picture. "Friend" is a strong word. I am a number to them just as surely as I was another awkward photo in the year book.
"I don't know you very well but NEVER CHANGE!"
You know, the only people who never change are the dead. Which made me start to wonder- is it possible that I have been dead all this time and I simply did not know it? Of course, I had just finished watching The Sixth Sense, but it was something worth looking into. It would explain a lot. Like why I always have the same outfit on with or without a coat. And why no one laughs at my jokes. And why people are always bumping into me without appologizing. I decided to do a little experimenting.
Instead of assuming that people were ignoring me because I was quiet, I began commenting. I shared my thoughts, I even left messages on a "friend's" face book wall. Things like, "hey remember when you dumped me without telling me LOL!" and "nice profile pic- this one makes you look less like Willem Defoe." and "Big Gulps huh?"
No response.
I stood in the middle of a crowded grocery store and no one made eye contact. I tried giving advice that went completely unheeded. I wrote a story that nobody would read. I faded into the park bench and no one said a word. Given my hypothesis you can imagine my distress. Dead all this time, and I'm wasting my time on Face Book?
9 comments:
this is why i like blogging...good to hear from you!!
smiles,
anna
p.s. i'm thinking "oubliette" would be a better description of facebook, lol!
You're not invisible. I saw you in high school. You looked... quietly intimidating and I was a mess, so I never tried to befriend you. Seems we would have had a few things in common, though. Probably mostly music.
You're not actually dead you just sold me your soul that one time for some Leatherby's ice cream. You were always one of my favorite people in college. I knew you were there. I was just thinking of you a few weeks ago and that thanksgiving where you, me and your sister made this huge meal for just the three of us and then carried it downstairs to the lounge so we could eat and eat watch a movie on the big screen.
haha... oh Diana, you have always made me laugh. You are alive and kick'n to me!
Dude, that was the best Thanksgiving ever. I forgot about selling you my soul, although it figures it would be for ice cream.
Kirsten, its a shame we weren't better friends in high school- I think it may have made the entire experience more enjoyable :)
Di, I wish I had your talent of writing and expression! I love reading your posts. I am sure your kids and husband would agree you are not dead...
but you smell so pretty...
Enjoyable? Only if you liked ducking fruit peels and trash during your lunch break. Or having gum spit in your hair simply for walking down the hall with me. Or listening to me complain about how I got sent to the principal's office AGAIN for something I absolutely did not do. I had a big target painted on me. Okay, I did some of the painting, but it was there before the red eyeliner and controversial t-shirts. You had to be rather spry and thick-skinned to make it through high school with me! I did throw some pretty nice parties, though (all drug-free, too, no matter what the rumor mill said). ;)
You're right- that doesn't sound enjoyable at all. I have met with few things crueler than that small, isolated High School where somehow being mean made you popular. I had forgotten that my invisibility was a defensive strategy. But in the end I'm grateful for even my negative experiences because they've taught me compassion. They've also taught me to avoid small, isolated high schools.
Post a Comment