How Facebook refucked up my marriage
I reluctantly rejoined Facebook last month after enjoying being completely unconnected to ex-boyfriends, college roommates, and my babysitter.
But since everyone and their ex-boyfriends, college roommates, and babysitters are on Facebook, I had to get myself back into the loop.
This time, however, I made myself unsearchable, and really only use it to promote Cool Mom Picks and the Mominatrix stuff, hoping to maintain a fairly low profile, or at least one that doesn't scream "Hey, all my relatives with my husband's last name! Come find me and read what I write about you on my blog!" which is probably a good idea since it also just so happens that my mother-in-law is on Facebook too.
And as I recently learned, my husband.
Now, I'm not the boss of the internet around this house, but since I never use my husband's (and my children's) last name for anything, I was pretty annoyed to find out that he had since made the leap into Facebook, particularly when he told me that he had not.
But then I found messages he sent to some chick he knew before he was dating me who had sent him a few pretty raunchy emails. I'm not completely sure what category she would fall into on the whole "want to do her, did her, been there done that several times" continuum, but all I know is that there was really nothing significant enough going on for him to need to send her a message.
And I'm not talking about the actual words he wrote.
Aside from the fact that when I asked him if he was back on Facebook he said "Um no, not recently" (which was curious since the message was dated July 25), I found that he had also "friended" someone who had caused us major issues in our marriage back when Quinlan was a baby. A woman who he said was his "friend," but obviously wanted more and didn't care that he was married with a kid.
At one point during their "friendship," which involved being secret gym buddies and confidants - well, secret to me anyway - I woke up at 3am after we had played a gig at a bar to find him still not home, only to learn that he had taken it upon himself to pick up her daughter from the babysitter and drive her home because this "friend" was too drunk to do it herself.
There I was with a screaming, nursing baby and a husband who was rarely home to help me with his own baby out driving someone else's kid around.
Follow that with an extremely questionable text message the next day and it was clear that the "friendship" needed to end.
So suffice it to say that when I saw that she was a friend on his Facebook page, I was pissed.
I get that we all, at one point or another, Google our exes, or flings, or whoever else we had face time with. But when you click that "Add a friend" button, you're sending a message - an invitation to let someone back in.
Most of the time, it's completely harmless. I've friended ex-boyfriends from college and our few conversations are about our kids. But then again, none of those guys ever interfered with my current relationship. Because if they did, I'd really think long and hard about making them my "friend."
I appreciate all that the internet and social media has done at bringing people together. Hell, it has connected me to many other fabulous people that I would never have otherwise met.
But I think at some level, it allows us to stay way too connected, when in reality, it's much better for some people to fade away.
Or better, just fucking disappear.
Facebook friending frenzy follow-up
After much discussion, we have since resolved the Facebook friending frenzy of 2009. It's quite clear that my husband is just a little bit clueless when it comes to social media, particularly when drunk.
I suppose I should be thankful for this fact because that means all his brain power and energy are going into safely flying planes and keeping his ass alive while he's in the desert next month.
Now to be clear, I don't completely blame Fat Tire's long awaited arrival to Georgia for his faux pas.
It's a combination of just being a doofus and his own what I've come to call "mean mommy issues," where instead of just telling the truth, he's dishonest for fear of his mom's wrath.
Or in this case, my wrath. Oh the irony, Mr. Freud.
Sadly, until he gets over the fact that it has more to do with his own mother and less to do with me, I don't necessarily see him completely getting it.
And right now, I'm okay with that.
Thankfully, he does come around rather quickly these days, and he managed to drag the kids to the mall and buy me some fancy lingerie. With pockets, even!
And considering he had to deal with both kids tossing underwear and using the plastic drawers as bongos at Victoria's Secret, I find the nightie and thong a little extra endearing.
Okay, so he doesn't completely get the make-up gift giving thing either, but hey, baby steps. At least this time he bought the right size and not four sizes too big with padded cups.
But let's just say the real lesson here is that I should have known better than to assume that the sender of nasty emails was a 20-something sex kitten with a porn star name.
Apparently, sort of larger set 40-something women can have sexy names and write graphic emails.
So, never assume that your husband actually knows what he's doing on Facebook and never judge a woman by her name.
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