What Facebook Means To Me.

Here’s a confession: I loved high school.

I LOVED it.

The reason I loved it probably has a lot to do with my personality – a bit quirky, sometimes a loner, sometimes sociable.

In high school I had a very large group of close friends and an even larger group of “friendly people” around me. I had several ‘best’ friends. The idea of walking down a hallway without saying “hi!” to at least two people was inconceivable back in those days.

And I was not one of the “popular kids”.

The thing I loved best about high school was that all of those people – friends and best friends and boyfriends – were in one place every single day. We met in the cafeteria before school started; many of us were hauled into the town by bus. Drinking coffee (or tea) and half-sleeping on the tables, we’d talk about what was new or what was happening that day. We’d poke fun at each other, go through the high school dramas and then we’d all head off to class.

We’d meet up again at break.

And again at lunch.

And then after school, too, while we waited for the bus to take us home again, we’d stand around talking and flirting and smoking and laughing.

Repeat the next day. And the next day. And the next few years.

When I left high school I moved to Toronto. It was about an hour’s commute from my hometown, give or take, and that was the end of the majority of contact I had with people. I didn’t have a car and my weekends at home were completely overwhelming. Many of my friends headed off to other universities or schools or stayed in our hometown.

My first year of university, my mother died. I turned into a weirdo zombie who drank too much and partied too hard and slept around rather indiscriminately because I was so unspeakably desperate for comfort. I did not have a clan of friends anymore. I had a few close friends that I made on-campus but my deranged behaviour made (most of) them somewhat leery of extended periods of time with me, I think.

That, and I started telling people to fuck off and stop bothering me during my more morose times. People don’t really stick around after you start yelling at them to leave you alone. Funny how that works.

Living in a house with multiple people always appealed to me – in the same way that high school did. A bunch of people, varied personalities, living in one space and sharing moments but having time to themselves. I loved living communally even when I lived with a ‘roid-raging asshole – in fact, if I had to identify my favourite part of university it would be the moment I moved off-campus and lived with friends.

You can probably credit Chz for that, too, given that he’s one of the few that managed to drag me out of my room regularly. Ditto for Donal.

I was reluctant to join Facebook because I don’t like social networking. It feels contrived (because it is) and it feels empty and I am not a big fan. But I joined and I created my profile and sweet merciful crap people started to poke me all over the place.

And ohmygod, it’s fantastic. It’s fantastic because these little blips of conversation and “how have you BEEN these past 20 years?” are exactly the same connection I felt while sitting in the cafeteria in the mornings or walking to classes. They’re quick and connecting and don’t require a big investment of time – all while making me feel like I’m part of a group of friends again.

My close friends are all in touch – we email or we see each other sometimes or we GTalk a little from time to time – but being home alone all day doesn’t give me those little taps of conversation or friendliness. The cashier at the grocery store is a pale comparison.

I am so grateful for my “new” old friends. For the little jokes and messages on my Wall and private messages and free gifts.. So very cool.