Tall Tara

Oh, Facebook…whatever am I going to do about that silly sidebar of yours?

It all began after I “confirmed” my engagement on your social network. Next thing I knew, I started receiving ads about interfaith marriage. It baffled me how you knew that Adam was Jewish and I wasn’t (sounds like some sort of Jewy algorithm at work), but the “relevant” marketing was ubiquitous.

Then, I rolled my eyes as the wedding got closer and I started getting ads about how I could lose 5 pounds before the ceremony. Seeing as how we were eloping in the mountains on skis in the beginning of March, I actually needed those extra pounds to keep me warm that day. But, really, thanks for the concern.

And then, one day, I logged into Facebook and saw this in my sidebar…

(Last name removed to protect the innocent. And yes, the innocent is doing a karate kick in his Facebook profile picture.)

You’re not just content to tell me who I should be friends with, but now you’re telling me when to talk to my husband? Seriously? It’s like you’re that nosy yenta, wandering around the neighborhood, poking your head over closed walls and telling people what they should be doing.

While I must be honest and admit I enjoy the birthday reminders (I have a shitty memory for such things), I draw the line when you tell me to write on my husband’s wall.

Why the rant? Why can’t I just take simple suggestions from Facebook?

Because I HATE those couples who are flirting with each other via Facebook wall. It’s disgusting and it’s a practice I don’t believe in.

Not that you would know that Facebook.

And, this is a crazy idea, I know, but perhaps I’m not writing on his wall because I’m busy talking to him.

In person.

Without the aid of a social network.

So, stop telling me what to do Facebook. Because everyone knows that all you’re really good for is to see how fat that popular chick in high school is now.

Put that in your Like button, bitches.