The BOOK has black balled me!

For more than a month I have been cut off from the rest of the world, kept under a rock, flung aside like used trash. Facebook rules with an iron fist and they have kicked me out of the club. Back in December I logged on to “the book,” to see what was up, you know the usual, stalk some people, check out new picks, when dooms day hit. “We’re sorry, your account has been disabled by the Facebook team. Have a great day!” WTF, are you kidding me?

Flipping, flying with rage, I immediately emailed Facebook, demanding to know why on earth they kicked me off. What had I done to disparage their name? Nothing, no response. For the next few weeks I email everyone at Facebook I can think of; customer service, sales support, disabled accounts, help, contact us. Again, nothing. It was official, I had been ex-communicated from the book and they didn’t even have the courtesy to let me know. No warning email, no notification. All I wanted was an answer, even a “we’re sorry, you will NEVER be on Facebook again,” would suffice, just give me something, PLEASE!

It’s amazing how important something becomes once it’s taken away. I mean everyone at one point has claimed, “maybe it’s time for me to get off the book.” But come on – who are they kidding? There was like this alternative world that I was not a part of. Sally Smith from 3^rd grade ate sushi for lunch and I DIDN’T KNOW it. The smelly girl at work uploaded pictures of her weird looking dog and I DIDN’T SEE them. That creepy guy from the bar poked me and I DIDN’T GET it. Monumental things had happened and I was left out. What if I meet the love of my life and he wants to friend me and I’m not THERE? These things are so silly yet sooo necessary. As someone who spends her days on the computer at work, I NEED these outlets. I NEED them bad. I’ve become obsessed. I have a new understanding of Brit. Things can spin out of control suddenly and I am teetering on desperation.

The new year hits and still no emails. And it’s Facebook, so of course there is no contact phone number. I mean, who actually does business over the phone anymore? And when I finally did track down the number, they took me in circles. “Please email customer service.” Really, I mean really, did they think I hadn’t thought about that? What a genius idea, let me try that.

To make matters worse, to get my Facebook fix, I’ve resorted to logging onto MySpace. Who the hell still goes on MySpace? Ugh I’m so embarrassed to even mention that. It’s like Andre when you want Dom; the poor mans fiddle; the CVS brand shampoo; payless shoes; American Eagle polos; it’s not the real thing! If anyone is listening out there, please, please take pity on me and let me back in the cool club.

Attraction is not a choice,
flats