Why Can’t We Be Friends?

In the past, I’ve sort of been a bit of a Facebook hermit.  I don’t approve a lot of friend requests and I haven’t been known to request many people.  My thinking had always been that I like having a relatively small, core group of folks who I could share all this with and who’s lives I wanted to be part of in some way.  I never quite understood how some people could have 3000 “friends” and yet still maintain any semblance of contact with even a tiny fraction of them all.  I was absolutely flabbergasted when I hit 200 friends, figuring that was about my limit, there couldn’t possibly be anyone else who I’d want to interact with.

Well, as it turns out that’s not a great strategy.  What I’ve decided only recently is that I’ve got great friends and I don’t know what the hell I’d do without them all.  Unfortunately it took some serious tragedy that affected all of us to make me realize that there are WAY more people out there who I want to know.  There are people who I may have met only briefly, friends of friends, complete strangers who I hear interesting things about, whoever.  The only way I can ever hope to know any of them is to straight up ask.

So for those of you who I’ve added as friends recently, even if you don’t really know me, I’m determined to get to know you.  I’m not saying I want to be best friends, I’m not saying we need to hang out three times a week until we’re absolutely sick of one another, I’m not saying we need to swap stories about every mundane thing that has ever happened to us (lots of mundane things happen to me, not great stories).  I just want to make sure I don’t miss out on meeting someone who may be fully awesome just because Facebook is weirdly anti-social (considering the socialism of it all).

New friends: get to know me. Ask me ridiculous questions. Troll hard through my random pictures of the kid. Stalk me a little bit.  I promise not to be offended.  And if you insist on inviting me out for a drink, keep in mind I like scotch and cold beer.  I’m not picky.

But please, just don’t ask me to play Farmville with you.

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3 Comments

  1. Scotch rules. Aberlour changed my life and now I want to be that dirty old man at the bar. Too bad I have a vagina.

    If you could be MacGyver, Knight Rider, or Jay J. Armes, who would you be?

    I think I know why you were inspired to write this blog, but tell me more…I like to hear about people’s personal journeys.

    When you were a kid, what ice cream did you get from the ice cream man? Ninja Turtle with gumball eyes was my personal fave.

    • I’m a big fan of Laphoiag and Glenmorangie. Yes, too bad you have a vagina. I would be MacGuyver, for sure. I am a big fan of my hands and Knight’s boss was kind of a douche. My ice cream of choice was the Pink Panther one, the weird pink foot with a single random piece of gum in it. No explanation why.

      And I did this because I know how quickly people can just be gone. I’d rather work my ass off to know 5000 people than to know that someone I COULD have known is gone, and I never got the chance.

  2. What’s up Barry? That’s pretty much rhetorical because I don’t have anything intelligent and/or pressing to follow that up with. Just dropping in to say hello.


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