I’m about to tell you something that might send you into cardiac arrest so if you have health problems grab a friend before you continue reading this because I’ve been told this piece of information is quite shocking. I don’t have Facebook. It sounds ridiculous doesn’t it? A nineteen-year-old girl doesn’t have Facebook. How does she survive? What does she do with her time? How does she keep in contact with people? Well, believe it or not, there is life without one of the world’s most prominent social networking sites.
Once upon a time when I was in high school I had Facebook. I might still technically have an account, I’m pretty sure that de-activating your profile is the biggest joke since the concept of an honest politician. Either way, I once had an account and now I don’t. Was it weird saying goodbye to Facebook? Yes. Did I feel like I was chopping off a limb? Not really. The concept of living without Facebook seems almost ludicrous but honestly, the site is fantastic way to waste away your time while laughing at trending Internet memes and occasionally looking at pictures of cats. Sure I still like to do that but that’s why I have Instagram.
Facebook, theoretically, is a great way to stay in contact with people you don’t live near. Now I’m a self-confessed horrible person when it comes to keeping in touch with my friends. Email? Yeah I’m pretty sure I replied to you. Text message? I’ll text you twelve hours straight, stay up on the phone with you for five hours while you cram for those finals and then not talk to you for about a week. Nikki can tell you how infuriating I am and how many times she’s wanted to go all Voldemort on my ass. I’m absolutely crap at keeping in touch with people mainly because there are about three people I actually care about and those three people just accept that keeping in contact is not my party trick.
So Facebook is great on paper but the reality? Those statuses from that entitled friend whining about how it seems like everyone else does nothing while she puts in the hard yards for minimum pay. That friend who always without fail posts the “ily babe I can’t live without you” status exactly one month into the relationship you know will probably only last two more depending on how psychotic she gets and if he finds out she’s emotionally cheating on him on three different dating sites. Let’s not forget that friend who posts the sad face and nothing else as you watch all the likes and concerned comments roll in.
I have a philosophy; if you matter and I care you have my phone number. Call me and I’ll keep you company while you study all night. Text me and we can laugh over the fact that my phone is terrible and hates me because it’s guaranteed that at some point in the conversation autocorrect will kick my ass. We can even Snapchat or FaceTime. Hell you can try and email me and I promise there’s a fifty percent chance I’ll get it and another twenty that I’ll remember to reply without being a week late.
There is life without Facebook. I’m still unproductive on Instagram but at least I’m not getting game requests and my ancient aunt screaming bloody murder to my grandmother because once, in 2010, I had the audacity to like a page that happened to have the word “fuck” in it. Life away from the big blue isn’t for everyone but honestly it’s been almost a year and a half now and I have more regrets about the fact that I spent the majority of this year eating two-minute noodles for breakfast than I do leaving that site.