I’m the worst for it.

And the worst for being remorseful over it.

So then I delete it.

What is “vaguebooking”? It’s leaving an ominous status on Facebook, that begs people to ask you what’s wrong, or incites overall curiosity.

My post today: “Done.” No context, no explanation. Just “done”. And I so rarely post on my personal profile, that when I do write something like “done”, it calls attention. I’m an asshole. I had absolutely no desire to explain what “done” meant. Just that I was, and  I wanted Jan to see it. He did, of course, and posted a George Costanza gif: Serenity now.

Game on.

Now, if you were friends with both of us on Facebook, we’ve concocted a rumour mill. It doesn’t take a genius to deduce that we were both expressing frustration with one another. And social media gives us the tools to invite and deny the outside world at will. I can post something short, and direct, without giving away the plot or the protagonist and the world will suddenly know that my private spat is no longer for shut and close bedroom door discussions. Nah, we’ve let it all hang out. And for some reason, we keep giving Social Media the power to let us.

And I’m not talking about the fully conscious, lay down a status, type out the 140-character tweet, carefully curate the caption posts. I’m talking about the innate desire to bring whatever it is to the table – ahem, Facebook wall – first. Our immediate go-to is post about it. I’m pissed off with my partner, gonna post about it. My new job, post. My parents and I don’t talk anymore, post post post. But what I think – think we’re doing, is forgotten that not all our private thoughts are private now that we’re conditioned to posting about them publicly. Simply meaning – I didn’t want people to know Jan and I were in a spat, but my first incline was to make a status to express my frustration. And when I realized people were concerned about my well-being, they started reaching out and asking us both what was up. Then I was even more frustrated, and deleted the post.

I don’t know what happened to writing it out in a journal, or talking with a friend, in person, over tea, and not through a messenger window, but I’m just as bad as the next person for vaguebooking. And it’s a habit I wish I could break.

Maybe I will when Facebook finally goes the way of the Dodo. Oh, I guess that reference is rather outdated. Let me rephrase – when Facebook finally goes the way of the Myspace.

Till then – yes, Jan and I had a spat, yes we’re fine. No, I know. I know. It’s cool. We’re good.

— c ☆

(Editor’s note: vaguebooking is stupid and I hate that I was sucked in … J)