Facebook Zombies and Twitter Whores

It’s OK, you guys. I’m not zombie or slut shaming. I can use these derogatory terms because I fit in both groups. I can also use the words chubby, short, and bitch for the same reason, but that is fodder for another day. Let’s just stick with zombies and whores for now.

How many of you are also zombie whores? How many of you are flipping through Facebook, either on your phone or on your computer, maybe at work, looking for that person you hated in high school to see if she’s fatter than you? It can’t be just me. Or maybe I AM your hated fat person.  Like a lot of us, you are probably wasting HOURS every week getting in touch with people you never really cared about in the first place, when you could be doing something you’ve always wanted to do. Social media is an all-consuming time clustersuck. How many times have you stepped away for an hour and returned to 20 notifications. Notifications that someone’s Republican aunt also posted a comment on their Obama meme. Is this life shattering information?

Most of us non-Amish folks are all over social media, posting tidbits about our lives, funny memes, and cat pictures regularly. We like to feel like we are a part of the Internet world. We comment on news stories, or share them to alert our other friends who get their news from the Zuckerberg News Network. When a TV show posts a hash tag phrase, we all jump on it like trained flea-bitten circus dogs. This is not intelligence; this is not the information age. This is the zombie age.

It’s such a problem that there is actually such a thing as Internet addiction. Like, it’s Dr. Drew legit, you guys. There is actually software to monitor your social media usage. This is how bad it has gotten. There’s an app to track app usage. It’s like a 12 step program for geeks and hermits.

Before you get your panties in a bunch and turn on your troll light, actually read what I’ve written. I’m not judging you. I’m judging us, all of us, who waste our time every day on social media. It’s not social anymore. Well, I guess to quote John from the Breakfast Club, it’s demented and sad, but social.

Case in point: me. I am currently writing two novels. By writing two novels, I mean that I’m not writing them, like ever. Instead, I’m just flipping through Facebook looking for that psychotic ex boyfriend to see if he’s bald yet.

I set out to be a novelist, a paperback writer as the Beatles sang. I had it all planned:

  • Write a book.
  • Get an amazing publishing contract.
  • Have the book be hugely popular.
  • Have it made into a movie.
  • Have John Cusack star in the movie.
  • Walk the red carpet with my family and cry tears of joy at the premiere.

Simple, huh?

Instead, I allowed myself to become a third rate blogger and all around social media whore. No offense to the first and second rate bloggers out there. In order to be a writer in this here information age, you have to build a following online. So, whether you want to or not, you have to blog, and get oodles of Facebook likers, and Twitter followers. I’m told I should be building my Pinterest boards like mad, but to be honest, I hate Pinterest with a white hot passion.

I like blog writing; it’s short, sweet, and often fun to do. I just hate the sales pitch song and dance you have to do to be a successful blogger. I am NOT a salesperson. Way back in the day – Miami 1990 – I worked at Macy’s. I was always “in arrears,” meaning I sold so little that I didn’t even earn my hourly rate in commission. A woman once asked me if a dress she was trying on made her look fat. I said yes. NOT A SALESPERSON.

In addition to being a salesperson, being a blogger is like being a fat third-grader trying to get picked for the kickball team. “PICK ME!! Oh read me! READ me! Pick me! Publish me! Love me! Put me on the Today Show!” Blah, blah, blah. I get tired of my own inner fat third grader, never mind everyone else’s. I am looking at you, selfie every day.

While it is cool to have your stuff on the interwebs, the cha ching value is usually low, like zero. In other words, most bloggers, like a lot of creative folks, make diddly squat for their efforts. Every writer’s dream is to be paid to write. So, the blogging world has become crowded, competitive, and common. It seems like EVERYONE is a blogger. When something becomes crowded, competitive and common, I lose interest.

I’m not saying that I’m definitely going to be the next great writer, or actually have a movie made of my book, or that John Cusack even knows who I am, or would sign on for my movie. I’m saying that I have to at least focus more on the writing I love doing, and try to make my dreams come true. So, I can’t sit around all day trying to think of 140-character nonsense. And you shouldn’t either. What are your dreams? Have you achieved them, or have you just found all of your elementary school friends and their siblings? Let’s take a big step away from the internet, and take our brains back.

Cat on computer
Even my cat is online!



10 thoughts on “Facebook Zombies and Twitter Whores

  1. I definitely feel these same feelings. It’s like when I go to a Chinese buffet and hit the food troughs over and over again. Then I get home and am all apologetic and confessional. But this buffet of time-suck is ALWAYS WITH ME to dip into for unlimited platefuls of useless information! Ugh. I want to think that if I didn’t work 100% online for my day job I’d spend less time on social media. Right?

    1. Yeah, I want to think that, too, but I doubt it. It is like a drug. Mark Zuckerberg is a drug dealer.

      I’m the same way with food. Eat a lot, feel bad about it, repeat.

  2. Ha, love that you were “in arrears” at Macy’s. And inner fat 3rd-grader. What a great metaphor. Ha, I was always picked last. Which has carried through to my antisocial, standing on the sidelines adult life. Can I hang out with you?

    1. Liz,

      I WAS that fat third grader, so it was easy. Well, I still am in the blogging/FB/Twitter world. So, there’s that. 🙂 I was a TERRIBLE sales person. TERRIBLE. I will never rely on sales for my income again. If only there were a career where I could just tell the truth for money. 🙂

  3. Oh, my friend – such truth in this. This zombie right here? I just showed up at your blog-step from the book of faces. How much time did I kill over there? And I must’ve spent a good 15 minutes trying to come up with a meme or a picture or some fucking thing to post on my FB “fan” page, all the time thinking to myself, “Self, I could be actually writing something right now. But instead, I’m picking out a meme maybe 13 people will ‘Like’.” Yep. It’s a vicious cycle. And I have an inner 3rd grader too. Because I was always picked last for kickball. And then I got socked in the head with it. 😉 The Breakfast Club quote is perfect. Love that. Here’s how great a salesperson I am; I was fired from a phone sales job because I couldn’t sell Reader’s Digests to senior citizens. I couldn’t stand the thought of weaseling them out of their fixed incomes. Write those novels, woman! I’m cheering you on. And I hope you get John Cusack to star in the movie. Please invite me to the premiere. I loves me some John Cusack.

    1. Linda, it is like we are related. I used to grab my head and duck when I was playing kick ball. No wonder I was picked last. I’m on my way to like whatever meme you posted.

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