I, with half of the global population, am utterly addicted to Facebook. With the exception of those quizzes. Do I really care what Jane Austen character you are? What color of poop you should be?
If you like doing quizzes, that's fine, but as for me, I usually hide them from my site. After all, my life isn't enriched if I know what sort of breakfast cereal you were in a past life.
Anyway, I have almost 300 friends...and I know ALL of them. People I know from church. People I work or used to work with. People I know from school: grade school, high school, and college.
I've been able to reconnect with a lot of my high school friends. Since I graduated with a class of 27, that really isn't a much. I chat with them online periodically. I get the 411 on those I haven't talked to. I peruse their albums at their family photos and marvel that most all of them now have kids, especially since in my mind, I see them as I remember them on graduation day.
One classmate, who was my BFF during my stint in the middle-of-nowhere Nebraska. I guess I gravitated towards her because of her free spirit ways, which was sorely out of place there. She was from California, and her life didn't revolve around the conventional things that teenagers preoccupied themselves with. She's still that free spirit, and for that reason, and also because of her personal beliefs, I shall call her Druish Princess (insert Spaceballs joke here).
I was talking to DP the other night, and she noted my down-in-the-dumps mood. She suggested fixing me up with a friend of hers. As in a date. I was immediately alarmed, and for good reason.
DP once tried to play matchmaker my senior year. She had arranged a date for me for prom, despite my objections. When I demanded that she call him and cancel, she admitted that the guy had already rented a tux, and that she really didn't want me to go to prom by myself. This guy was a friend of her boyfriend at the time, and truth be told, I didn't like her boyfriend. I could only imagine what mystery date would bring. I relented, having been guilted into it.
Prom night arrives, and my date shows up. In all my particular preferences in boys, this guy was the furthest thing from them. He wasn't funny. He wasn't horribly intelligent. I think he could have been borderline mentally retarded. He reminded me of Stimpy.
So, prom night crawls by, and my classmates secretly offer their condolences because I was obviously miserable with a boring date that I didn't want in the first place. My annoyance with DP was short-lived. She meant well, but I told her that she should never, ever try to play matchmaker with me.
Fast forward 16 years to present day. DP wants to be helpful and get me out of my, whatever you want to call the disaster that is my personal life.
"You're matchmaking efforts with me haven't exactly worked out." I reminded her. Truth be told, I'm just simply not interested in boys right now. Or a relationship. Or anything.
"Oh, but he's great," she gushed. "He's like a younger John Cusack. And he's funny, but that dark, sarcastic humor like you. You two would get along great!"
"I really don't think..."
"He's really nice, he really likes comic books. I mean, he does have that dental problem, but he can say he doesn't have the money for a dentist since his Mom called and made the appointment."
"His Mom had to call and make his dental appointment??"
"Well, yeah. But it was just that one time."
"How old is this person??"
"Late 20's...why, what's wrong?"
Great. So, my high school BFF was trying to hook me up with a 20-something nerd with bad teeth. I'm fairly confident he was probably living in his mother's basement. I think DP sensed that this was a match that wasn't going to happen, and then quickly amended to, "I have to get you two together just to be friends."
Thanks, but I'll just stay at home with my cat.
It's not that I am a snob, but this just isn't my cup of tea. I have a career. I have a mortgage. I have a retirement plan (now worth just enough to buy breakfast at IHOP...for myself). I travel outside the continental U.S. I've never been to a comic book convention, and I couldn't even tell you what happened in the last two Star Trek movies.
FINALLY, I'm neurotic when it comes to teeth.
No. No. No. No. No!
Hopefully, DP lets the subject drop.