Surely, someone is already writing an expose’ of the phenomenon of Facebook. The unlikeliness of “friends,” be my friend, unfriend. The absurd and sometimes surprising reconnection with very old friends, especially those from grade school or high school whom, especially if you’re me and you’ve moved and moved, you truly never thought you’d see again except at a possible reunion, and even then you’d only remember maybe ten of them, at the most. Now, I look up old boyfriends and my best friend from sixth grade, who, in the picture, really does look like the Molly Mulligan all the boys loved when she got breasts before anyone else. Except now she’s flanked by a husband and two children. Or, the contrast between my excited (and oddly, exuberantly celebrated by my long list of friends) cleaning out of my storage unit and all its baggage from the more than seven years that stuff has been in there, and the recent remarriage of my college friend Benita, whose new step daughter posted that although seeing her dad remarry, she knows her family is blessed by this new bride of her father’s. And, I cleaned my storage unit, and told people about it! This is definitely, completely weird. The most intimate, personal feelings butted up against a weekend, random chore that’s been on the “to do” list for two years. Get married. Check. Empty storage unit. Check.
I keep coming back to one of my favorite movie lines in the film Shall We Dance? when Susan Sarandon’s character tells Richard Jenkins why she thinks we marry: “because we want a witness to our lives.” Yes. We want to matter, and we want to matter to someone or something. And, because it’s sometimes so hard to connect, reach out, connect, be our real selves with those near us, we use the safe distance of technology to do it. It’s not all bad, I don’t think. But, you have to admit, it’s just weird.