Creep.

If we run into each other, and I ask how you're doing, you really have to realize that I'm doing this strictly as a formality. Of course I already know how you're doing... I'm not under a fucking rock over here.

...I already saw that you got engaged two weeks ago on Facebook. I saw that your baby was, rather graphically, successfully potty-trained recently. Good for him.
I'm not a good actor at all. Sometimes it is extremely difficult to nod along while someone rambles on and on about things I already know about. It's just that I've had a lot of practice lately, and I really think I've got my "listening face" almost perfectly perfected. The key to looking sympathetic is to twist your face slightly, keep your eyes wide, and try not to let the other person know that you are currently ranking your favorite Southern rappers in order of hair-style in your head. Still, I'm creeping on you, mamí... No denying it. I know what's going on in your life, and pretty soon I'm going to have to tell you that things are "fine, I guess", and that I'm "so busy with work", and you're going to nod back at me like you give a fuck. Seems a little pointless, no?

The world is no longer a private place. A friend of mine recently busted her husband having sex with the neighbour, all because of a pocket-dial. Back in the day, the semantics of this maneuver would have been incredible... He would have had to knock the receiver off of the hook, stretch the phone-cord across the room, and find enough fingers, whilst in coitus, to dial a seven-digit number. Now all it takes is a wayward kick in the direction of one of those fancy phones with the big screens to let the world in on your little secret... It's easier than ever to creep, sometimes you don't even have to try.

You sure do go on a lot of dates at The Olive Garden. I know this because you 'status update' my fucking brains out. With media constantly opening the door of communication wider and wider, I have just found more things to judge about you. Guess what? I'm sizing you up, pal.
When I was younger, I used to forget my parents' birthdays every year, and nobody batted an eyelash (well, maybe my parents did). Now, I've got to be on the ball all the time so I don't miss sending someone a "birthday text" or "birthday sext", depending on who we're talking about. People expect you to know things like birthdays and anniversaries nowadays. It's the modern thing to do.

People are always lying to my face and saying that they've "gotten rid of Facebook", or that they "don't understand Twitter". Fuuuuck off. I am Twitter-less, and you know the honest reason why? I really don't think I'd have enough entertaining shit to post. When someone says they're "too busy for Facebook", what they're really saying is "I'm googling your name instead, and spending the rest of the time looking at internet porn". Yo, I see you, hippies. I know what you're really about.

This post wasn't really to rant against social media- it's totally unavoidable, and will probably take over the whole planet in less than a year. I do, however, think that we are almost at the point of being able to release the entire concept of the "casual run-in", wherein you painfully relay stupid details about your current to someone you went to junior high with, in favor of the "observation brows", a small eye gesture and nod to say "I see you, I recognize you, but I hate your love of Tim McGraw and your incessant banter about your stupid kids".
Haven't we evolved to this level by now?

~sarah p.