So. This is me, eating my words. I said I would never join Facebook and yet I have. And it is just as frustrating and addictive as I thought. I have just spent my whole time this morning trying to figure out the interface-how to add applications, make it look less busy, you know. Make it nice. I had limited success. But I did win over in the it is only 6:00 am and I am frustrated as hell category. My back hurts, my eyes hurt, and still I only managed to get one application on my profile.
Not to mention the fact that when you first join Facebook, they roll out your contacts in a list of faces that is way too close to seeing your life flash before your eyes before you succumb to that fishbone that is lodged in your esophagus. I thought I was dying and all the people I ever knew were lining up in an organized, alphabetical fashion so that I may glimpse their faces before I travel to the great unknown. Scary stuff.
So why did I join then, if I am such a curmudgeon? A janey-come-lately? A luddite disguised as a tech savvy librarian?
Hmm. Good question.
I think the first part was curiosity. I actually had never seen Facebook in action and was curious to see what the fuss was about. Now I realise that the world is full of masochists and I am now one of them. Secondly, everybody is on Facebook, including my husband. He would get notifications of events that were happening with our artist friends and fail to pass the message along. That will not do. I am the event planner in the household. I need to know about the events so that I can plan. Thirdly, I am thinking to use it as a vaguely professional tool for my library and need to play with it. But mostly, I was just curious. And we all know what curiosity did to the poor feline…
Lina Branter 