Awesome Teen Mag

Once upon a time, we were forced to rely on cell phones and two-ways to carry out our confidential communications. But then, like the answer to our badly behaved prayers, Facebook came into our lives and we all breathed a sigh of relief.  Finally a place to discuss late night plans with friends without clueing in mom, vent work frustrations behind the boss’ back, and post all those photos of us drinking and looking our absolute coolest (there are just some photos that don’t belong over the fireplace).  We woke every morning fearless, able to post “I’m so hung over,” status updates, draw graffiti messages on our co-workers’ walls displaying the heinous outfit our boss wore to the company party, and spent the work days Facebook chatting with that hot guy from accounting.   Ahh, the good ole days. The days we’ll one day tell our grandkids about (if we ever work up the nerve to ask accounting guy out, get him to fall in love with us and marry him).

But then our tagged picture perfect world came crashing down when we received a familar friend request. Sure, there was no photo, but the accompanying message said it all: “JUST WANTED TO SEE WHAT ALL THE FUSS WAS ABOUT WITH THIS my face page YOU’RE ALWAYS ON! LOVE, mom!!!” (What is with the caps?!)  And while she may not know how to upload a photo, we know from all those childhood bedtime stories that she can read all the ‘your mom’ jokes on our wall. But before there was any time to de-tag questionable photos and delete the relationship status that jokingly said we’re in a relationship with John Mayer, Mom was on the phone wanting to know the dish on this new boyfriend, why someone would think it funny to suggest she would do such a thing with a donkey and how did we possibly get home safely the night the photo album, “One Tequila, Two Tequila, Three Tequila…just give me the whole effing bottle” was created.

 
And just when we thought it couldn’t get worse than Mom writing daily affirmations on our friends’ walls and sending a friend request to the hot guy from accounting (with the headline “hello future son-in-law!”), a new friend request showed up in our inbox. This one did have a photo. A carefully posed, collared shirt-wearing, down to business smile-smiling photo, the creativity of which rivaled a Bryn-Alan graduation pic. The boss (and we don’t mean Springsteen). “Hi there! Heard this was the best place to network!”  

 
Who’s next? Grandma Dorothy? Reverend Moseby? Maybe it’s time to go back to MySpace. At least there we only have to worry about friend requests from Tila Tequila and a bunch of bands we’ve never heard of.