I hate to feel left out. If there’s a party that I haven’t been invited to I am very likely to speak very loudly about the fact I haven’t received an invitation in the hope someone will pick up on this social catastrophe and make sure I get one asap. That’s not to say I’ll go of course but I would be very upset not to be invited.
I began to feel this way about the whole Facebook phenomenon. I usually avoid these internet fads and announce in a holier than thou voice that I ‘leave that sort of thing to the kids’ as I take a long sophisticated sip of my mojito. I’ve managed to sneer at Myspace and look down on Bebo until they left me alone not to be heard of again. But Facebook was much more persistent. I had already publicly and loudly declared my disinterest but I was still receiving invitations to join and was increasingly finding myself left out of conversations. Poking, Zombies, photo threads – what was everyone talking about? It just wouldn’t go away.
I decided that in order to be able to properly deride this latest adventure in pop culture I’d have to at least make sure I knew what I was dealing with. So I nonchalantly typed in the address www.facebook.com just to see what it all looked like. Just a quick peek, nothing more. Before I knew it, there I was filling out political allegiances, height, education history and answers to questions that even my best friends wouldn’t ask me. Who was I looking for it asked me – men? women? couples? I wasn’t looking for anyone. Should I be? Is it wrong not to? I panicked and finished up as quickly as I could.
Within an hour I was getting requests from friends to add me. Not just friends either, anyone I had so much as stood in a queue with at an ATM seemed to want a part of me. Well if I am on here, I thought to myself, I wonder who else might be. This resulted in me spending about three hours searching everybody’s name I could think of. I realised it was time to stop when I got to my ex-boss’s girlfriend’s best friend. Enough Conortje I said. Log out and never go back. Just walk away before it’s too late. But just before I could obey my own stern command I thought of one more name. I wonder ……. there couldn’t be anyone else with the same name surely ……… why would I even try ….. oh go on… sure what harm could it do. So in I typed my own name and clicked ’search’.
Holy Turnip Fields! - there are eight more Conor O’Rourkes out there. When the hell did that happen? It’s just not possible. I’m one of a kind. There must me a mistake, I demand a recount! I thought I was a one man show on this planet. It seems I am only one of many and that made me feel pretty miserable indeed. Not unique at all in the slightest. I just knew I should never have gone near this Facebook lark.
But you’ve got such a lovely name I just had to stalk you on Facebook. I refrained from poking you though.
Nah don’t fancy facebook, keeping up with a blog is effort enough. And you see Conortje, it all ended in tears, you silly young chap, finding out there were another eight versions of you out there. Do you suppose they’re all clones made from a stealthily removed tissue sample? Tomorrow you’ll find there are 16 Conors, the day after 32…..help!!!!
I’ve poked Conor on numerous occasions.
OH WAIT, that seriously sounded worse than what I meant it to.
What I really meant to say was; “Why Conor, you’re one in 6 billion to us around here” but I think that’s been lost in the whole poking debacle.
NAUGHTY!
P.S. I also don’t see what this facebook malarky is all about.
hahahaha i like nick’s idea, that you’re multiplying in cyberspace.
my nieces (aged 8 and 10) forced me onto bebo. they refuse to answer their yahoo email anymore. instead, they check yahoo mail looking for an automatic message from bebo saying “you have a message” and then they go to bebo and read it and answer it.
but i feel like a stalker on that site. it seems to be all children …. except me.
There might be eight more Conor O’Rourkes, but there is only one Conortje!
Long may you reign!
One Conortje is definitely more than enough!
I’m taking to the bottle to come to terms with the thought that Facebook has 8 Conor O’Rourkes…
LOL – You’re actually the third Conor O’Rourke I’ve known, but you’re the only one to spell your name with only one “n” so that makes you special indeed.
lenfercest – poke away sure, at least that way I won’t feel left out
Nick – what a scary thought. Surely there must be a law governing the maximum quantity of Conors allowed
Alan – it’s way too complicated for my small mind to cope with
Laurie – my nephews are all into bebo too, I had a quick look and it too scared the life out of me
Grannymar – aw now aren’t you just the sweetest thing
Jovica – That would mean a lot more if you weren’t already on the bottle trying to deal with just the one Conortje
Beth – you’re kidding me right? You know two more? That double N debacle haunts me. The first name should have only one and the surname (O’Connor) two. Someone brought it to America, got it wrong and people have been misspelling my name ever since
well, if you decide to take up bebo (not recommended–my nieces send me messages i can’t read because they’re covered in “skins” that have sparkly kittens and butterflies and rainbows and shit all over them) let me know. be nice to have another adult to hang around with.
I leave that to the kids, Conor.
Damn, where’s my mojito?
I leave that to the kids, Conortje.
Damn, where’s my waiter with my mojito?
On another issue, I’ve been loitering with intent round the Emmylou Harris section in HMV. Could you recommend a good album to start me off?
I deleted my account too. Felt bad for about 0.7 seconds at the prospect of ‘being left out’ by friends but honestly, they have my email address and phone number. The rest is up to me and them both. I reckon we need a blog to record nothing, nothing at all, of any significance.
laurie – gosh then I’d have to act all sensible and grown up – oh the pressure of it could kill me
Medbh – cocktails are allowed in only a few hours
Manuel – Hmmm Any of her last three I would say. My favourite is Red Dirt Girl but Wreckin Ball is fab too. Let me know what you think.
73man – maybe we should go the whole hog and bring back letter writing. Whatever happened too letters, I used to love getting them. Writing them was a bitch though.
Facebook is just far too time consuming and it is doing nothing for my ego everybody and I mean everybody seems to have more friends than me well except you that is!
I just joined facebook too…I suppose it is not as trying to be young as myspace…but still pretty sad (speaking purely of myself). I’m still not sure of the point of facebook since people can contact me through my blog, maybe for those wierd souls from school who occasionally email after 20 years and say, remember me, I’m Paul X from Winchester Primary School. Yes, you want to say, and I’ve been trying to forget about you for the last 20 years
Damn Americans. Get everything wrong.
Ta Ta
Conortje, I wrote a letter to a friend of mine about one year ago and nothing as purposeful and deliberative have I done since. You have to think hard about how to phrase your sentiments and feelings (remember those?) before committing them to paper. Maybe I’m just a luddite.
Oh, you have no idea. My name is so common that there were two of us in my small hometown. Our fathers are both named John. It got very confusing.
I’ve stayed away from MySpace after I kept getting hit on by icky people.
I made the mistake of registering on Facebook and then realised there was only so much hot keyboard activity my life could take. There is something bizarre about people having 500 friends on their list but spending every night at home on their computer. Ms R has better things to do.
tallulahbloom – yes all these people with so many friends yet spend every night alone with their computers
emma – I think maybe that’s the draw – everyone is busy trying to figure out what the point of it is. Kind of like my blog here.
Beth – hehehe not true. The singer Bright Eyes is American and he’s also called Conor – with one correct N. So there’s at least the one.
73man – you know what – I think I’m inspired to get pen and paper out. Hopefully I will then do something with them.
Sassy – Are you sure that wasn’t an actual mirror you met?
Ms Robinson – I think you’re my new hero!