As much as certain stubborn UCLA students may try to resist it,
Facebook has infiltrated all aspects of our lives, from academic to
social.
I remember that I was initially reluctant to join. My only
experience with online networks was Friendster, a site I abandoned
when I grew tired of rifling through my daily messages from creepy
old guys and desperate singles to look for ones from people I
actually knew. Facebook, however, seemed a little more legit,
considering you need a school e-mail address to join. But I made
the mistake of becoming a Facebook member at the start of finals
week of fall last year. I didn’t realize it would be like
heroin for the first few weeks, my attempts at productive studying
seriously debilitated by my desire to check my friend count and
look up people I hadn’t seen since high school.
Then I started to learn the benefits of Facebook. It allows
people to scope out who’s in their classes so they can pick
out the cute ones and set up a study group. Plus, I seriously
wouldn’t know the names of half the people in my classes if I
hadn’t been able to look them up after an awkward run-in on
campus.
And if it’s midterms week and you realize you
haven’t been able to make it to class since Week 2 because of
an alleged illness or family emergency, start sending out desperate
messages to classmates asking them to send you their lecture
notes.
But not only is Facebook clutch to academic life, it’s
changed the Westwood party scene. Years ago, when I was a freshman,
I would go out to parties and meet people whose names I would never
learn and who I would never see again ““ and I was OK with
that. Now everyone, whether they admit to it or not, manages to
remember people’s names so they can go home and look them up.
A Facebook etiquette has even emerged ““ there’s such a
thing as messaging someone you met at a party too soon after the
event. (To not appear desperate, I’d suggest waiting at least
a day and a half.)
And if you accidentally gave out your phone number to someone,
you don’t have to wait for the awkward call or first date to
find out crucial information about their dating desirability; you
can do a Facebook background check. If someone has listed as an
interest something such as “not wanting to be alone” or
has “writing poetry” twice, the red flags should be
waving: Don’t answer if the person actually calls.
Then there is the whole networking aspect of Facebook.
Periodically, I’ll get Facebooked by someone telling me I
look familiar. Usually, a look at the individual’s profile
will reveal that the person is studying something along the lines
of electrical engineering and is an active member of Triangle, so
the chance of us having ever been in the same classes or friendship
circle is slim to none. Occasionally, though, something in the
person’s profile, or someone in the person’s list of
friends, will intrigue me, and I’ll actually start a Facebook
conversation. Or perhaps, in my case, it is more accurate to say
that I made the mistake of logging on to my account on a
friend’s computer, and he thought it would be funny to go
through my messages and write back to people about how I was
looking forward to meeting them, including lots of “hee
hees” he thought sounded flirtatious.
While most of my Facebook messages never amount to anything,
there was one time I actually decided to go to a party I was
invited to by someone with whom I supposedly shared a lot of mutual
friends. After about five awkward minutes of realizing that if we
did share those friends, they wouldn’t be appearing that
night, I decided that parties with people I really know are a lot
better. If I’m going to meet someone (or their friends),
I’d rather do it somewhere that’s a more respectable
“meet-market” than an online network. That’s what
grocery store lines are for.
Rodgers believes in quantity, not quality, when it comes to
friendship. E-mail her at jrodgers@media.ucla.edu, or even better,
add her as your friend.