Today while failing to fight the side-effects of Dayquil, I wrote a long, rambling Facebook status update about pickles. I’m disappointed in myself. It’s not the pickle rant itself that I’m ashamed of — I always think crazy things when I’m sick and last time I took this much Dayquil I drew a surprisingly intricate picture of a fruit fly. No, I’m disappointed that I mentioned I’m sick on Facebook. I’ve established certain rules for social networking, and it embarrasses me to have broken one in a moment of weakness.

The whole time I’ve been active on Facebook, a small part of me hoped that other people would embrace my rules by osmosis. I thought maybe if I stayed classy, Facebook would take note and become ashamed of its previous behavior, but no dice. In light of my recent indiscretion and the dread that comes over me every time I read my news feed, I’ve decided it’s time to go public. So here it is, World: a long-overdue Abridged Guide to Facebook Etiquette and Civility. Pass it along if you wish (but always remember to use the proper fork when doing so).

Rule #1: Please stop complaining over Facebook. I’m not the most empathetic person in the world. In fact last week I was told my personality drives people away. That may be why I feel that if I read another passive-aggressive status update about how you’re sick and angry because we all ruined your life, I will go to your home and make sure that’s true. Maybe I will do it by giving you a wedgie or replacing all your shoes with slightly smaller, identical pairs. I expect you to tag me in the whiney post you write about it later because life-ruining of that magnitude takes effort.

Rule #2: Please refrain from telling me about your baby, your alcoholic blackout, or your agenda for the day. I’m a hands-on learner so if I wanted to find out more about babies, I would make one of my own. You should assume by the way I don’t do that, that I don’t want to know. Unless yours has impeccable timing and poops on people when they’re being obnoxious, I’m not interested.
Drunk stories are often funny, but Facebook statuses are always only about how much you drank. When you write about your 30 shots and subsequent blackout, it doesn’t make me laugh. It makes me look for pamphlets on alcoholism to leave on your windshield.
As far as your agenda is concerned, I’m all for To-Do Lists … but I have my own. When I read yours, I feel like I’m stalking you. If someone wonders aloud about what you’re doing and I’m able to answer because I inadvertently memorized your schedule, we have a problem.

Rule #3: Please make your updates specific. As a journalism student, there is nothing more frustrating to me than reading an update that says in its entirety, “That was funny!” because I’m left with so many questions. When you post ambiguous things like that, I can tell that you’ve failed to understand social networking. Facebook and other social media exist so people can share experiences, but I can’t comment on those posts because I have no idea what you’re talking about. You’ve somehow managed to create an inside joke with yourself.

I don’t want to sound dramatic, but every time you break one of these rules, you kill your friends a little. You’re murdering them slowly. You sit there and think about that, while I go tell Twitter I finally got my pickle fix.

ssummar@meastate.edu