Intro idea #1: Facebook is calling me once again, and like the majestic yaks of south Central Asia during rutting season, I'm about to answer the call.
Intro idea #2: My ego is such that I can't make a Facebook parable about myself without going either biblical or of cosmological-the-universe-was-created-the day-I-was-born-titanic significance – not the sinking kind.
In any case, vacation is over.
January 29, 2012. The day I told 845 million Facebook members I was taking a vacation from the social network.
I have a love/hate relationship with Facebook.
Love: My friends; my relationship status; conversations; photoshopped profile pictures; endless banters; Facebook pages; Facestalking; Facebook timeline; Facebook covers [I don't work for Facebook and I do not receive royalties each time I write Facebook]; spending time on Facebook; status updates; the Like button; my clownonfire Facebook alter-ego/url/username; paying my rent by developing Facebook marketing strategies; my kids as profile pictures.
Hate: The time I spend on it; how personal I let it become; Facebook Ads; the fu*kers I've blocked; Zooey Deschanel and I aren't friends [yet]; Facedrunking; my mother on Facebook; the peculiar ritual of removing friends occasionally; being removed as a friend; receiving an email from someone I removed asking why s/he was removed; the fu*king plunge my Klout score took since I've been on a Facebook hiatus; telling someone I'm a social media strategist while being on a Facebook vacation; your kids as profile pictures.
On Mount Sinai, the magnificent wild yak was befuddled by the Prodigal Son, who was staring into the Burning Bush, not sure if he should log in.
— Clown on Fire 13:17-19, World Frenglish Bible
So Facebook and I are sleeping in different rooms – I get the king size bed, it sleeps on the couch. It was a mutual decision, or that's what the story says: I was having a very hard time because of my wife's bipolar disorder – exhausted – and it was becoming apparent by my statuses, and at that time, the disorder was not public. Facebook suggested I take some time off, at least until my wife stabilized again. So I did. And my wife stabilized. And she started blogging about living with bipolar, and other wonderful topics.
I made peace with my push-pull friendship with Facebook. It doesn't need to sleep on the couch anymore/for a little while/until I change my mind again. But I don't want it in bed with us, in between my wife and I. I'm about to log in for the first time in weeks… And that makes me one nervous social media strategist…
The Burning Bush has been blazing fiercely since joining the new saviour, Lord Zuckerberg.
Like this:
One blogger likes this post.
. Bookmark the
.
