I make Eliza Doolittle look like Posh Spice

Sunday afternoon I had no desire to create a grocery list, so I shirked my domestic duties and sat down to create a Facebook account. Up to now, I resisted joining a social network because I have this blog and I really don’t need another thing drawing me to the computer when I have other things to do, such as create a grocery list.

The nice thing about social networks is you can actually find people you haven’t seen in years, and within minutes of creating my account I had hooked up with an old friend from high school who I had not seen or talked to since my wedding day. I’ve since “friended” a host of others from my past as well as my neighbor across the street because, you know, that path from my front door to hers takes all of a minute.

The bad thing about social networks is that they are yet another avenue through which one can make an ass of herself. For example, I was perusing the list of Facebook profiles from people who had graduated from my high school and happened upon a man I remembered fondly from my days in marching band. He was one of our drum majors and a really sweet guy with a great sining voice.

His profile was private, but his picture was posted as a thumbnail on the list. In the picture he’s seen sitting on a rock wearing white pants and a bright pink shirt. The whole ensemble screamed early 90s to me so I figured he had posted an older picture of himself. I sent him this message:

You’ve either posted your senior picture on your profile or have gained access to Dick Clark’s anti-aging serum. I’m guessing it’s the former because I’m pretty sure those flashy colors were outlawed after 1999.

It’s nice to see you here. I hope you’re doing well. You probably have no idea who this is so I’ll give you a hint: my last name used to be ——.

I sent it off without a second thought. After I had time to process what I had written, I was horrified that I had chosen to make fun of his picture after not having spoken to him in nearly 18 years. What if that really is a recent picture? It was very small and perhaps I was mistaken in thinking he looked exactly as he had in high school. Who the hell can tell from a teeny tiny picture? Certainly not the woman who still knows nothing about how to talk to boys.

Note to Facebook: bigger profile pictures and a “save draft” function for your message system might prevent several folks from disclosing their dorkishness to the general public. I’m just saying. Some of us are lost causes and can use all the help we can get.