I used The Facebook for a few months in 2008, but I left last June.
Look, I had plenty of The Facebook friends, and plenty of coworker friends, but there were still very few real-life friends. Now, I like my coworkers, but I don't need The Facebook to be in touch with them; them I saw all the time. And I found this need to collect The Facebook Friends like some people used to collect Pogs Milk Caps. The Facebook was overhwelming.
And I left. I wrote about it on this blog, and the response surprised me. Not that there was a lot of it, I just expected something different - a little bit of conversation about time spent on The Facebook, the value of in-person contact versus living in small dialogue boxes, et ceterea. But mostly people were confused, as some occasionally are by things I write. Some took to mocking me, and one woman went so far as to summarize her opinion by repeatedly calling me a faggot to my face, a rare case where I would have much preferred the online version of the conversation.
For these last six months I had the distinct feeling of not missing out. Last month learned that many of my friends (the real ones, the ones I wanted to spend weekend time with) had joined The Facebook in the intervening time. All of a sudden there was this real value to returning to The Facebook, and so I have.
I like friends, and I even like coworker friends. Let's be friends! But this time I'm not collecting them for points, and let's keep out the surveys, snowballs and super pokes. I like The Facebook when I use it as a relationship supplement; not its replacement.
I must no longer be gay; my wife will be so relieved.