Look out World, I mean business.

Ok, so, two things before I start.

Number one: I have had a good amount of tequila tonight (I would argue however that really the best things happen after tequila and that would include this blog post as well as what has prompted this blog post.)

Number two: it's been forever since I've written here, I know, but any kind of apology I create for all you folks out there not reading this blog would be completely lacking in anything close to truth. And while I do lie about things, I do not lie about this. I am not sorry, just easily distracted by...you know...everything other than this blog.

But since this is the internet and completely impersonal - as in I don't have to actually SEE you and DEAL with your feelings of neglect - I will now proceed to rant and rave. I will vomit up my thoughts and feelings.

Are you ready for this?

You're not.

I know that you're not because in order to be ready for this you would have to be...I don't know...like, ghandi or buddha or moses or someone equally calm and all-knowing. You would have to be Jesus. Or Joss Whedon. Same thing really, am I right?

So since we've established that you're not ready and will never be ready, I'm going to dive into the deep end of the pool and blow your mind. I'm going to throw caution to the pollution-filled wind and drown you in my particular brand of ridiculous. I'm going to crack your skull open like an egg and then stick your brain in a blender and make a fruit smoothie out of your thoughts.

Ready? I'm warning you, don't take a sip of water right now, it'll come out your nose.

Because I have...oh god...hold the phones and clutch the babies...

Deleted my facebook account.

True story.

Are you there? Have you melted? Did your brain seep out of your ears in liquidy food-processed mush? I know, it's too much to bear. It's an atrocity. It defies all of our beliefs and convictions. You're thinking - how will I know, now, that Brad got caught singing a Britney Spears song in the elevator and it was HILARIOUS? How will I know, now, that Bonnie and Wayne (apparently I have friends from 1952...they're swell) got engaged and are planning their location wedding in Honolulu?! How will I know, now, that my ex-boyfriend is interested in men and is also in a serious relationship with my sister's ex-boyfriend and there is a CRAZY picture of them kissing in a bar in SoHo with tongue and everything??

Oh my god!

What will I do now? How can I survive this? What mindless bullshit will I have to fill up my brain if I don't have facebook around to eerily point out to me all of the things I never ever wanted to know?

You're dying. You're screaming in agony. You're wondering how the hell this could have possibly happened.

It happened like this:

I was out tonight (hence the tequila) and having a wonderful time (hence the tequila) when I mentioned to a friend of mine that some people we both once knew had come to visit me in New York City last weekend. She proceeded to inform me that she knew that already, and then proceeded to catalogue the entire visit in detail...

In eerie, the-call-is-coming-from-inside-the-house detail.

I mean, if you know my life story shouldn't you HAVE to say, right off the bat, "Hey I saw on facebook that you went skydiving with Calvin Kline and Minnie Driver. That must've been wild?"

Instead I say, in a frenzy of excitement, "Oh my god you'll never believe who I met!" and you say "Calvin Kline, right? And Minnie Driver? I saw the pictures on facebook."

Way to kill the story, asshole.

Especially since I don't have a digital camera and therefore it's not EVER me who has posted these alleged pictures you've apparently seen.

Honestly. It makes me want to dive headfirst into Columbus Circle without looking both ways (not a smart move. also, since I'm in paranthetical mode I feel I should mention I did not in fact go sky diving with Calvin Kline or Minnie Driver, that was one of those hyperbolic and dishonest moments of mine. I was just trying to prove a point.)

Anyway, lacking parentheses, this friend of mine was strangely clairvoyant tonight and maybe a little psychic, aka she had seen my pictures on the goddamn newsfeed and therefore knew way more than anybody should know without being told first hand. And so a bitter and soaked-in-alcohol seed was planted.

The seed had actually been planted a while ago around the literally millionth email I received informing me that someone I barely remember and never actually spoke to in high school has 'added me as a friend on facebook.' But I don't need to get into any of this. We all know what it's like. We've all seen the weird british spoof "facebook in reality" with the guy knocking on the door and poking and all that, which by the way was actually just another reason for me to delete my stupid fucking account. So irritating. The word "poke" in a British accent is just...not right sounding. No offense, folks from England, but...ugh.

My theories outside of the 'hey I don't know you, why are you friending me?' vein are many, though, so let me expand. (I know you were badly hoping I would, my tequila ramblings are oh so entertaining.)

First of all, I honestly think facebook encourages some kind of social cowardice and lack of security. Did you look at my "wall?" Shouldn't I be informed of that?

This is especially true when dealing with the myriad of exes and weird-o's lurking in the shadows. The many cowardly jackasses who (in real life) are almost-something's, the many losers who (in real life) are how-could-you-have-done-that's, the many assholes who (in real life) are wow-that-was-inappropriate-and-creepy's lingering literally everywhere, who certainly (in real life) would never be anywhere close enough to my kitchen to know that "Katie Barnard liked the spaghetti-o's that she had for dinner. mmm! reminds her of childhood!"

These don't-you-wish-I'd-stop-staring-at-your-chest guys and these the-last-time-I-spoke-to-you-I-cried-hot-tears-of-rage faux-friends should not know my status every minute of every day, even if it is mind-numbingly boring and about canned goods. Go away. How do I get a restraining order for my internet persona? How can I protect myself from your gross and wandering eyes if facebook is just flaunting my goods for anybody to see?

And, ladies be with me on this, it's even worse if the guy's an oh-how-I-lust-after, or an I'll-never-tell-but-I-hopelessly-pine-for. If the star of my daydreams is stalking me on facebook I NEED that information. Don't hide behind the anonymity of the internet (she says as she anonymously and drunkenly rants on blogspot.com) If our world was not so facebook-fucked my dream man and I would probably already be married because I would have caught him staring at my metaphorical wall (my breasts? my diary? what is the real-world equivalent of the ever shifting always finger hugged "wall" of facebook? and what's the real world equivalent of the news feed? pushed together tables of gossiping teenagers in a middle school cafeteria? old women snickering over cups of too-weak tea? an operator from 1940 eaves-dropping over crackling phone lines? a pair of loose-lipped gay guys sucking down cosmos?)

Anyway I would probably be married to my dream man today if not for this common technologically inspired cowardice, and the person I sat next to for a semester of Geometry in ninth grade would have no idea that it had happened, and I would be thrilled with that.

Also, (she's not finished?! no. not even close.) let me take a moment to bitch about Apps. Oh Apps, how I loathe you. How I give soliliquys about you with soundtracks composed by Wagner himself. How I despise all that you represent. Why are you so complicated, Apps? Why are you so confusing and involved and this-is-way-too-much-work-for-very-little-payoff irritating? Why the nickname, are you just too cool to be called Applications? Why are you the way that you are, Apps? I hate so much about the things that you choose to be. Apps are the Toby Flenderson of facebook. They are the Mr. Collins to my Elizabeth Bennet. They're the Nurse in Romeo and Juliet. Seriously Apps, from me to you, shut up. Just...shut it.

Has this been enough? Did you want to hear more? Great because I have one more thing to mention. The most important, as always, saved deliciously for last.

This is the part in which I will discuss the serious issue of the fact that facebook is fraudulent.

A wolf in sheep's clothing, waiting nervously under the covers for the my-what-big-teeth-you-have moment. I say this because there seems to be some kind of notion that Facebook belongs to the youth (waning by the millisecond since people are now receiving posts from their mothers,) and some idea that Facebook is for the people. Facebook makes the world a better place. Facebook is magical and my life would whither and die without it.

Facebook, just admit it. You are The Man (and I mean that in a Lower East Side snide kind of way, not in an awesome high five Jason Segel kind of way.) You're a suit hidden beneath baggy jeans and t-shirts. You're a banker hanging out at a surf shop. You're a frat boy trying desperately to not sound so drunk during your interview with corporate. You're a jerk.

Just tell us, Facebook. Own it.

This has all been one endless commercial break. We are all sheep. This is Animal Farm or 1984 or some other book by George Orwell and you are so totally Big Brother.

Totally...

Heads up, folks not reading this blog, Facebook owns all of the pictures you've ever taken of anybody. FYI, people paying me no mind, Facebook knows all of your thoughts before you even have them and sends you an App to nail that thought to a marketing scheme. And P.S. - Facebook is absolutely a narcotic.

It should be a controlled substance.

There should be support groups. Hi I'm Jennifer and I am addicted to Facebook...can I borrow your computer for a second to see if my roommate's brother updated his status?

Consider this. Why do they keep changing the format? Why do more ads pop up with every link you click? Why are there 'like it' buttons showing up everywhere in something strangely similar to Cold Stone Creamery? (I smell a conspiracy) Why have they added a chat feature so that you literally do not need any other program on your computer? Are they reading your chats like they're reading your wall like they're looking at your pictures like they're telling you where to shop and what television shows to watch? One of these days, I swear to God, I will be the only person left on this planet whose innards will not have been sucked out by the aliens hiding in wait inside an App on my computer. Hulu is kidding. Facebook is not.

I'm begging you, non-existent blog readers. Do not be mindless drones. Do not let status-messages and wall-posts rule your life. Wake up and smell the over-brewed Starbucks coffee that Facebook is trying to sell you or the over-processed Starbucks coffee flavored ice cream Cold Stone Creamery is trying to shove down your throat. You're pawns in a game worse than reality television. This is not a test. Evacuate now.

And please, friends who don't know me at all and aren't reading this because nobody reads this, I BEG of you, whatever you do, when an anonymous account on Facebook.com sends you a gift that kind of looks like a plastic cup full of cherry Kool-aid, do not drink it.

That means you.

This is serious.

The thought police are rallying the troupes and readying themselves for the next stage, for the newest format in which random emails will inform you that you have committed a thoughtcrime - thinking outside the box they've allotted for you, challenging the system, deciding you like Burger King better than McDonald's, or god forbid Arby's or Taco Bell or cooking for yourself.

"Don't you see that the whole aim of Newspeak is to narrow the range of thought?... Has it ever occurred to you, Winston, that by the year 2050, at the very latest, not a single human being will be alive who could understand such a conversation as we are having now?... The whole climate of thought will be different. In fact, there will be no thought, as we understand it now."
- George Orwell, 1984, Book 1, Chapter 5

2050 is not that far away and Big Brother is most definitely watching.

So, now, let me ask you...

What's your status?