What used to be just a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach has finally been confirmed – theFacebook IS evil. There was always a nasty vibe radiating from the login page: “Are you a new user? Yes? Well, then, come on over. Yes, that’s right, sit down. Becoming a member is easy. Sure, that’s it, just type in your college email address. Good, good. Now create a password. Excellent. See this long, jargon-filled contract? You don’t really need to read it. Just scroll through it and check the “I accept” box. Yes, that’s right, scroll through it fast. You’re doing great. Now, you just sit back and relax and create your profile while we just finish up a little bit of administrative work, like STEALING PRECIOUS HOURS OF YOUR DAY AND YOUR SOUL!!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHA!” It seemed to say. But rather than following my intuition and performing some counter-curse when I encountered the dark, sinister cloud emanating from theFacebook, I allowed myself to be lured in by the siren’s call.
To be honest, things were going pretty well, despite its flaws (such as being responsible for the creation of new verbs such as “friending.” I mean, really, who am I to criticize grammar anyway? When I’m not on theFacebook, my time is usually spent creating new parts of speech and/or resorting to strange noises and gestures in order to express myself) until they added the photo album option. In addition to all that time spent looking up old friends and classmates, friending them, chewing off several fingernails while waiting for them to confirm that friendship (okay, so I chew off several fingernails a day anyway), and then reading their profiles in minute detail to figure out exactly which part of it they updated, I now spend countless hours looking at their photo albums.
As if all this weren’t bad enough, I have now developed a complex looking at all these pictures because everyone I’ve ever known got WAY hot. To borrow Justin’s turn-of-phrase, smokin’ hot, with bangin’ bodies. It’s not that these people weren’t attractive to begin with; they just became extremely hot in college. I’m not sure if they always had the potential to be this hot and it was just never realized in the uniform-clad, all-girls high school we attended, or if perhaps they have succumbed to the pressures-that-be to dress and look a certain way (I bet I could guess if I had to, but that’s neither here nor there). With a few exceptions, I like to think that most of my friends fall under that first category. And not just my friends from junior high and high school, this goes for my friends from college, too. I know I have a biased perspective because a) I’m referring to Facebook photos, which people specifically select to portray themselves in a certain light, and b) they’re my friends, and so it’s easy for me to see all the ways in which they’re beautiful, but really, I feel like everyone’s just hotter. With friends from college, the change has been subtle – I look at pictures from our freshman year and I look at them now and notice that people seem like they fit into their own skins a little better, their faces and appearances reflect a comfort and confidence that comes from knowing themselves a little longer, and with that comfort and confidence comes hotness. With old friends, whom I don’t see very often, the shock is a little greater. The change seems abrupt, but it’s essentially the same thing. I guess what it really is, is that we’ve all matured a little. Gone are the self-conscious awkward teens who could, at best, be (retrospectively) described as cute, pretty, or good-looking. In their places are people who know how to rock what they’ve got and are really hot because of it. This newly-discovered maturity extends beyond physical hotness; their inner beauty has become more apparent too. And while I appreciate and admire the beauty of each one of my friends, I have to wonder if I’m really ready for all of us to grow up so soon.