Godammit, I’m Mad!

Spending most of his last 6 months in bed, Max starting using Facebook, and sent friend requests to everyone else who had his name. He was so pleased by the visual effect of Max Wolf leaving a comment for Max Wolf. He told me he’d started a Facebook group called People Named Max Wolf.   I loved this; it was so Max of him to think of this.

I didn’t even look at that page until after he died. I love the purpose of the group – “Exploring what it means to be a Max Wolf.”   I love that all those Max Wolf’s were able to appreciate   his gentle wit.   As a tribute to Max, I sent 37 friend requests to Facebook users who share my name. Only one of them accepted.

No one had a mind quite like Max’s. One of his college professors once wrote, “I am always eager to know what Max has to say.” I think all of us felt that way.

Sometime I wonder what he would think about something and I try to hear his voice. The one thing I can hear distinctly is that he forgives me. I don’t know why this is and I know how self-serving it seems but it’s still true.   And when I play the CD mixes he made for me, I feel his love.   I hope more than anything that he can still feel mine.

Sometimes I forget that people aren’t always what they seem to be online. Even more often, I forget that people don’t always look how they look online. We all get lucky in some photos and less lucky in others. A few genetic freaks of nature look amazing from every angle, in every light. But not most of us.

Here’s a really unflattering picture of me, taken last November after I tripped over a curb and broke my hip. Ordinarily I’d rather die than post it, but I need it to illustrate my point. (On the bright side, you can see my O.J. Simpson Trading Cards in the background.)

At Sea of Shoes, for example, you will never see a photo of Sea’s behind. And she’s announced many times that she looks for “volume” in clothes. She knows how to conceal her weaker areas and play up the stronger ones.

This photo confirms that Sea has to work hard to get those glowing portraits she posts! It’s the magic of a $2,000 Nikon and the right lighting.

People remind me over and over that someone’s online persona may be nothing like their real self. When I told my sister about one of my dearest cyber-friends, she exclaimed, “How do you know that anything they say is true?!” Her cynicism upset me. I just assume I can discern a genuine personality from a manufactured one.

Recently I read this essay by Zadie Smith on “The Social Network” and Facebook, and it blew my mind. I can’t recommend it highly enough! The notion that we may be learning to limit our actual selves by the way we shape our own “brands” online is really thought provoking. It disturbs me.

My own online presence is a little disturbing to me.   People know too much about me.   I’m open about my whole life. I may regret it, but I can’t think why, since I’ll never run for president or seek a corporate job. But I can at least say that I’m not presenting a fake or even well-edited version of who I am.   I think I’m exactly what I seem like. But maybe a tiny bit less of a cunt.

Way back in time, when life was still silly and fun, I created a character on MySpace called Brad Boner. For some reason, he was obsessed with U2. I just remembered him tonight, and I had a good laugh at him/me.

I was inspired to created Brad when my BFF created “Olga”, after I confided to her that I’d opened a box of cosmetics that was mistakenly delivered to my house but addressed to someone named Olga. Olga was just there to tease me but she went on to make 43 friends.

Nowadays, I hardly ever see the BFF and the pleasure of screwing around on MySpace has been usurped by the deadly dullness of Facebook, where the etiquette is as strict as haiku and the blocking software is as ruthless as anything devised by the CIA.

I miss Brad and Olga and my relative innocence!

Tonight, I heard my son remark about Facebook: “I find my self wondering, why are you my friend here when I fucking hate you?”

So true. I went to look at my Facebook friends and I hate at least 5 of them. There are others who are complete strangers but I can assume that I’d probably hate 80% of them if I knew who they were.

It suddenly occurred to me that I might find my husband’s ex on Facebook, but no such luck. I only found her teenage son, who is throwing a gang sign in his profile photo and has 657 friends. YAY!

How many of your Facebook friends do you hate? And which nemesis has disappointed you by not being there?

Mrs. Palin has over 800,000 fans on Facebook, where she posted a note today, asking people to watch racist crybaby Glen Beck on Fox news. Glenn’s corporate sponsors have been pulling their ads due to public pressure.

Here is a sample of the 3,471 comments to Mrs. P’s note:

How can we possibly reach the scrambled minds of people like Kathleen Thompson Papp? Let’s try!

Dear Kathleen,

What the hell is your problem? Do you know anything about Hitler? Do you know the difference between fascism and socialism? Why do you identify with Mrs. Palin? She would shoot your dog if it had antlers!   Please put down that bacon cheeseburger and read some world history. God help you if you’re priced out of decent health insurance.

Love and concern,
Sister Wolf

Oh god, I was minding my own business (relatively) on facebook, where I have recently reconnected with an old friend. There on his profile page I was accosted by an idiotic comment from a creep I once had sex with!   Ugh, WTF!

Would you like to hear the story?

Okay. I was single and between marriages and apparently desperate for companionship. This creep was the friend of my friend (I think) and he bore a vague resemblance to someone I had once adored.

In my head, I named John Blodgett “The Facsimile.” He was nine years younger than me and never tired of mentioning the age difference. I was around 33 but thanks to him I felt like Old Mother Hubbard.

He was studying English literature somewhere and was a terrible writer. He took himself more seriously than anyone I’ve ever met, before or since. He hated his mother. He liked Faulkner, never a good sign.

We finally slept together and it was disastrous. He did not know shit from Shinola. I was mortified. I didn’t relish the teacher role; it was bad enough being the older woman. Each time, it got worse instead of better. I wondered if he was deliberately trying to withhold pleasure and frustrate my needs.

One night, we were driving home from somewhere and he started drinking at the wheel. I was alarmed but he just laughed and drove faster. That night, he told me that things weren’t working for him. I listened in disbelief. How could such a loser want to dump me?

No matter how many times I reviewed it, I couldn’t understand what had happened between us. I felt cheated and wanted my money back. I wrote him a letter, calling him a Facsimile and giving him an honest evaluation of his writing. I suggested that he get a map of the female anatomy, and advised him to procure both a psychiatrist and a nose-job.

He wrote back, saying he planned to use my letter in his English class. I replied with the promise of a lawsuit. At some point, he attempted to ‘make friends.’ I either ignored him to told him to fuck off.

Ah, life is funny, isn’t it? I haven’t thought of him in years and years. Here is what he wrote on my old friend’s facebook page:

I’m really interested in hearing more about your (former) restaurant and your entreprenueurial career in general. You are one of the few people– maybe the only one I know– who’s managed to carve out a prosperous nontraditional work life. I’m getting burnt out on teaching in the inner city and it’s only going to get worse. Just a couple of days ago a respected teacher friend of mine was accused (quite brazenly & unfairly) in the New York media of inappropriate touching with his students and– poof!– a distinguished 25+ year career in teaching is down the toilet. I think I need to start thinking of alternatives to being at the mercy of crack babies with ghetto attitude. I admire what you’ve done and envy your cabin.

Hahaha!   What a fucking cunt !