Disconnect Me

If time is money, I can't afford to make another "friend."

Getty Images
Getty Images

LinkedIn is harmless and well behaved. It’s corporate and presentable. The alumni site lets me feel like I’m back on campus again, complete with the freshman-year dorm friends and every “whatever happened to that person” question answered in one quick search.

Then there’s Facebook, the SuperTarget of social sites: hip, but at the end of the day, another shameless drain on my time.

I planned on virtually ignoring Facebook, just like I did MySpace. Then I realized I was already on there. You see, I attended a Las Vegas conference with friends last year. Before I knew it, people started e-mailing photos of me from the event that had been posted on Facebook. My mug was already on there. I needed to join it. Didn’t I?

Since then, the site has taken over my life.

It started out like a small village, a boutique gathering of my friends. Then friends of friends, bosses and party promoters joined the fray. My page is now a gentrified metropolis.

Get this: A guy—someone I have never met—recently friended me. He is apparently a hot club promoter in Detroit.

Trust, I am perfectly happy with the South Florida social scene. However, Facebook has a way of tickling my voyeuristic nature. If I manage to leave Ocean Drive on South Beach to travel to Motown, maybe this new “friend” can usher me into just the right spot for a sighting of embattled hip-hop mayor Kwame Kilpatrick.

And there’s a grouping on Facebook for any fetish. Yes, as my group lists suggest, I really do believe that “Jem is Truly Outrageous,” and that “Hip Hop is Dead.”

I now send wall postings and messages to my legions of friends, and I live chat on the site for hours a day. It’s great. Too great.

Between my multiple e-mail accounts, IMs, and my blog(http://miamiherald.typepad.com/frugalista/), I am a fully connected woman. I am not saying these social networks aren’t fun. I’m just saying I need to unplug.