Tag Archives: unfriend

100 Words, 100 Days: Day 99. On Unfriending.

Yesterday morning, to my horror, I lost two friends. But I don’t know who they are; not yet, anyway. My Facebook friends list was reduced from a total of 284 people to 282. I scanned down the list to see if there were any notable exceptions (I don’t keep a written record, by the way), but I was unable to work out who dumped me (or dumped Facebook).
A while ago this would have bothered me, causing me to think of how I might have offended these people. But to each their own reasons. Maybe they just grew tired of social networking…or me.

The Twelve Steps of Facebookers Anonymous.

STEP ONE: We admitted we were powerless over Facebook – that our lives had become unmanageable, that timetables had been neglected, that our spouses had walked out on us.

STEP TWO: Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to reality – after we’ve come top of our friends’ list at Bejewelled Blitz, that is (no mean feat, let me tell you).

STEP THREE: Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of our therapists, irrespective of how much they charge per session.

STEP FOUR: Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of our download history, our apps usage and our poking of friends.

STEP FIVE: Admitted to our therapist, to ourselves, and to our partners (if they aren’t already on Facebook – no private messaging allowed) the exact nature of our download history, our apps usage, our poking of friends – and non-poking of partners and spouses.

STEP SIX: Were entirely ready to have our therapist recommend medication in order to relieve these losses of reality.

STEP SEVEN: Humbly asked our therapist for such medication. And if he wasn’t forthcoming, got down on our knees and begged for our sanity. And if that didn’t work, threaten his family.

STEP EIGHT: Made a list of all persons we had endlessly poked, insulted, invited to join groups that no same person would want to be part of, tagged in embarrassing pictures, unfriended, blocked and hidden. This could take time, so keep a couple of weekends free for this step.

STEP NINE: Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, usually in the form of a groveling email or private message, except when to do so would injure them or others. But seeing that most of these people have never even met you, there’s no real need to take this step overly serious. Unless, of course, they know where you live and work – then it’s serious business. Get out the checkbook. I see a lawsuit on the horizon.

STEP TEN: Continued to take personal inventory and when we poked the wrong person at the wrong time, promptly admitted it. This might mean closing down your Mafia Wars and Farmville account; so don’t say you haven’t been warned.

STEP ELEVEN: Sought through referrals from our therapist to improve our conscious contact with the real world, hoping only for the strength to keep away from Starbucks and Wi-Fi.

STEP TWELVE: Having had a rude awakening as a result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to other struggling Facebookers and resolve to Tweet instead.

You know who you are!

With sincere apologies to Bill W. and Dr. Bob – and all members of A.A.