Facebook: Get the "F" Out!

Okay so I stole that title from the WWE when they got taken down by the panda-loving World Wildlife Foundation way back when, but the sentiment still applies. First off, I want to dedicate this blog post to Kelly Esponozo, who has freed me from my addiction. She has opened my eyes to a life without web-indentured servitude, and for that, I thank you. I now am going on a couple months without "the Facebook," and I couldn't be happier. But please, let's start at the beginning... As my interactive theater pal would say, "back it up, back it up, back it up, beep beep beep. And too far."

Facebook (initially) was a man's best friend. I went off to college and immediately logged on to the college world. I could meet my new classmates on the swim team without having to ask "a/s/l r u dtf" on creepy AOL Instant Messenger. I could stalk potential Mrs. Swendimans without them knowing. And most importantly, any male could get back to Carmichael from the PDC (Players Dance Club) at 2:30am after late-night Hector's and make truly terrible decisions via Facebook chat and messages. Obviously it was fantastic. With the agility of a pedophile, one could see a hot blonde in class, look her up on Facebook, friend her, chat her up for 2 months, ask her out, get denied, and then start all over. Maybe work four of five of these sitches at a time. It's revenge of the nerds, bitches, cuz we now can spit game over the internet. Booyah!

There were some things that were annoying though. Ladies, you can't keep a profile pic of yourself up for more than six months if you've gained your freshman fifteen plus. The whole relationship status thing got to be a mess at times, too. Please, people, don't call me to see if I'm okay because my girlfriend and I broke up on Facebook. Also, being in a relationship with a boy does not mean I'm now gay (actually maybe a little). But this whole thing really didn't get bad until I hit medical school. So get ready team, I'm about to bitch.

For the first couple months of school, it was cool to post about the "goings-on" and "what-haves-yous" as you delved into your first semester of medicine. Your parents were probably on, perusing your wall and new albums, so they were happy to see that you were happy. Some of your friends were curious to see where this new road was leading you (although mine weren't). Zach Swartz told me promptly upon acceptance that he would never call me "Dr. Swendiman." It would always be "douche bag" or "doctor douche" or probably just "douche" (and then he told me I was to rear his children). But anywho, maybe some of your friends cared. Good for you. It was also crucial to keep up with "who's meeting where for what" (pregames, meetings, etc.). It was a social network. That's the point. But after a couple months, let's be honest, nobody cared anymore.

Now, before I go any further, let me qualify my future remarks. I have been guilty of (some of) the following. I have made mistakes. But, I have also seen the error of my ways! Let me also say, some of the people who are guilty of the crimes below are really good people. I just couldn't take it anymore. And that's why I'm off the Book. There, now no one can say I'm a hypocrite.

Okay. So, now over a semester and a half into medical school, I can safely say that NO ONE cares about your "goings-on" or "what-haves-yous" anymore. I don't care that you're "not excited about the test on Monday" or that you're "off to the beach for the weekend and probably won't have time to study tee-hee-hee-hee-hee!!!!" Your friends don't care that your "standardized patient thinks you're inept" (perhaps you are), or that you think it's unfair you have Monday ICM (get over it folks, you're had 18 months to get used to it). These "thoughts" are the reason why Twitter exists (and the reason I haven't logged onto Twitter in 6 months - yes, sadly, folks I do have an account). So, please use that website properly; that's what it's for.

But most importantly, when a professor says something that's mildly witty (and "witty" is used in a pretty loose sense here), don't post it as your Facebook status. Why not? Because four other classmates are about to post the exact same thing, and then we just look bad as a class. Now I can guarantee a couple things here. 1) Your friends don't care, because they don't know what the hell you're talking about. 2) Your parents might care, but at this point they're going through your albums, curious as to why you're at a party with MS1s instead of studying. You're going to be a doctor, you know. 3) The people in class don't think it's funny, because they were IN class and heard it the first time (and one time is probably enough). 4) And the people that weren't in class really don't give two hoots, because they don't care enough to go to class in the first place. Every once in a while a truly funny comment is made, and that's what unlimited mobile-to-mobile text messages to those in your My Circle of friends are for.

That's why I'm off Facebook. I didn't want to see all the angsty messages (like this one) as the semester wraps up and Boards approach. Matt Forgues made me realize my addiction; Kelly Esposito showed me the light. Now I'll admit, it was difficult for the first couple weeks; I went through withdrawal. I really didn't know what to do when I got on the internet, but fortunately ESPN has filled this void. And now I'm at peace. (I also went to "Milam Man Camp" with Ronnie and re-secured my testicles.)

So breath in. Ommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. And breath out.

Balance has been restored in my universe.