Throwing the (face)book at me

I’ve never been one for so-called ‘social networking’ sites. The title alone conjures various negative images. ‘Networking’ is something that goes on at office parties, launch do’s, and for musicians the concert hall. But it’s always had an element of 1980’s pale grey suits and the phrase ‘please, take a business card’ about it. Add the word ‘social’ to that and I’ve got an image of speed dating for computer geeks – ‘Meet 20 eligible bachelors/bachelorettes without ever having to log of from your Second Life avatar’.

But there I was signing up for a Facebook account. Not through choice so much as compulsion – someone had sent me an email saying I’d been added as a friend and now all I needed was an actual account. How could I refuse?

I’ve never been a school reunion type. Not through conscious effort, it’s just I’m hopelessly appalling at emailing people. Whilst the lovely Sarah recounts the latest ’round-robin’ email she’s had, or the latest pub meet-up she went to with her large group of school friends, I’ve continuously forgotten to keep in touch. Last year, for example, I made a conscious effort to get in touch with an old singer friend of mine from VI Form college. I lasted about a fortnight before my email replies started tailing away. Others I keep in touch with in a net-stalker type fashion – for example reading a blog a couple of times a week, I can’t remember the last time I emailed or met-up with a friend. The email addresses sit in that little bar down the side of Outlook Express, but the frame around them works like a force-field that deflects me off into other tasks rather than composing the message.

So Facebook. I hope this one lasts…