I made the mistake of adding an acquaintance from elementary/middle/high school on Facebook and every day since then, I’ve been treated to some griping via Facebook status about her life.   These gripes make up the bulk of her Facebook statuses and usually consist of the following:

1. Wah, my job sucks.
2. Wah, where I live sucks.
3. Yippee! I’m drunk!
4. Passive-aggressive bullshit in AOL textspeak, usually about how “ppl open their mouths and look like asses.”
5. And, my favorite: bemoaning the lack of a man in her life.

When all you show is a negative, unhappy person on a public forum, I can’t imagine why you’re having difficulties getting into and maintaining a healthy, long-term romantic relationship.  Can’t imagine why at all.

From 06-08, most of my friendships have been with people significantly younger than me (anywhere from 10 years to about 6); including my current relationship, my last three partners were 6, 10, and 6 years younger than me (respectively).  In spite of this, I don’t think I’ve seen anywhere near as much negativity pouring out of the internets as from this one woman.

No exaggeration.

Let’s not forget that in my last major social circle, there was an intense amount of drama (which, unfortunately, still rears its ugly head every now and again two years after the fact).  These kids are STILL COLLECTIVELY LESS NEGATIVE than this woman.  (And generally speaking, any negativity would have been far more justifiable from them.  Given how little I defend any of those folks, this should tell you something.)

Why did I add the girl back?  Curiosity, lulz, a smidge of pity, but mainly the fact that I just don’t care that much about Facebook.  Okay, so mainly lulz and not caring about Facebook.  I didn’t realize how far she felt the need to embody the term “Negative Nancy.”

Dude, I am NOT an optimist by any means, but when everything pouring the fuck out of you is nothing but goddamn negative bullshit that makes me want to scream “JESUS CHRIST, THE GLASS IS HALF FUCKING FULL,” then you know you’re probably a bit on the downer side.  I finally had to drop her because I hit my limit and commented on a paranoid, suburban white woman status all about crime in our hometown.

I dropped some real talk.  Most of my real talk included correcting an idiot about national drug statistics, as well as crime stats for Deptford, pointing out the fact that regardless of the town, you will always have isolated incidences of violent crime.  It’s just the way it goes, dude.  I then commented that for all the griping about crime and dealing with homeless people (on other statuses), it’s pretty stupid to say things like “I want to move to Philly!”

I got flooded with responses – none of which I read, because I’ve been online long enough to know that it’s just a slew of paranoid butthurt.  I said what I needed to say and that was it.  I was done and we’re all good here. Shockingly, I was treated to a passive-aggressive status of nonsense calling me “stupid,” labeling me an “idiot,” and basically a bunch of “I AM HOSTILE TO FACTS” AOL textspeak.

Yo, I’m 31 years old.  I’m at the point in my life where I’ll add friends I lost touch with, acquaintances, and even people I didn’t know well to my account. For those reasons, Facebook (and other soc nets) are a great tool.  But, you know, I don’t really need to even have online contact with fellow 30-somethings who respond to criticism like this.  The awesome thing about internet social interactions is that you have the easy ability to cut out people who make you feel like crap.  While the internet is a useful tool, it still should be one that brings ease to your life, not headaches.

I guess I ought to just be happy that I didn’t invite her out for a drink when I was bored one night.  That could have been an awkward evening.

(Related anecdote!  One time, in 8th grade, I wound up walking past her in the hallway.  I think she may have shoved past me or given me a dirty look or some shit.  I called her a “bitch” under my breath.  She ran home after school and cried to her mommy, who then called my mom.  I heard my mom say “Ummmm, I don’t know. I’ll ask her and talk to her.”  Mom hung up, looked at me and said “Yeah, that was A.B.  Did you call J ‘a bitch’?”  I lied and said “no.”  [Sorry Mom!]  My mom snorted, told me that I should have called her a bitch, and then asked why the hell she got a phone call over it.  17/18 years later, and I still lol like crazy over that.)

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