I am a Los Angeles-based twentysomething. I have a profession, and I have a secret life in music, and this blog isn't about any of that. I like Blogger because I can't read what you're thinking.
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Tuesday, June 30
I used to have a screening system when someone tried to add me on Facebook.
"Do I know this chick? Uh, er, no? DENIED."
But I've since stopped. I just figured, hey, I love snooping in on people's profiles, whether I know them or not. Then I like to judge them within 20 seconds. Then I keep them on basis of their exploit potential. This is networking, 2.0! Suck it, Cisco!
Anyway, there's this one girl--who I guess thinks we're BFFs because we do a lot of PR work together via e-mail--and she LOVES her job. Like, really, really, really loves her job.
So much, in fact, that she updates every development about her clients on her status; whether it's "watch my shitty actor's show on the CW tonight!" or "I'm going to a C-list rapper's release party later!" or "Getting a pedicure with UCSB girlies! WOO!!!", you know she'll be around for as long as the atomic bomb will allow her to.
Today, she posted:
"Who wants to go to ATLANTIC CITY with me this weekend!?"
By this logic she is either:
A. Inviting 795 of her Facebook contacts to her trip to Atlantic City (Looks like somebody needs a bus!)Because I'm bored at work, and because I'm a complete fucking asshole, I thought, "A. Yep, definitely A."
B. Just using this moment to fill the void of self-deprication and esteem in hopes that, for just 4 seconds, someone out there in Internet world could be thinking, "Boy, that Megan girl is a really lucky girl. I sure wish that was me, gee golly."
And I publicly responded--as I'm sure she was dying for someone to--with an answer.
"I'm down. I don't really know you, but I'm so down. BORGATA. SAW IT ON HELL'S KITCHEN."
Was I serious? No, but it shouldn't even matter. I mean, I am on her contact list. I am bound to run into her updates daily. By definition, there should be no arguing as to why I should not have responded or not taken the invite.
She de-friended me.
And Thus Spoke Hugothustra: Self-absorbed cunt, 2.0.