Oh, and that's not my hand in that picture, though I have been known to use a fountain pen on occasion. The nails on Ms. Clip Art's hands are way too cute and manicured and perfect. Nails like that wouldn't survive a week in my life. Just too much maintenance, anyway.
Oy. I haven't even started my post yet, and already I'm digressing. Kind of like talking to me in real life.
Anyway, to the point: the season is upon us. Incessant holiday music in stores has been plaguing us since Halloween. We're shopping and mailing and gifting and baking. Time for holiday cards and... Christmas letters.
Christmas letters are a tradition with Sean and I. We don't have kids or crazy adventures, but we somehow still manage to fill up a whole page front and back--though I try to use generously-sized font.
But let me tell you a little something. I don't like social media. I don't tweet. I've never even logged on to Twitter. I reluctantly use LinkedIn, though I really loathe the lack of functionality in LinkedIn's iPad app (are you reading this, LinkedIn people?). I've never been on InstaGram or Vine. I have a Facebook page, but my profile picture is from--2008? 2009?--and I hardly ever log in.
I hate social media because the moment I log in to Facebook and see everyone's feeds and comments and kids and status updates, I feel Scrooge-ish. I feel like I don't have an adventurous life. That I'm under-accomplished. That I should have a higher-paying job. I feel guilty that I don't have a stronger opinion about Israel. Or Palestine. Or my local bond election. And my turkey chili that I'm eating in front of the computer for dinner doesn't compare to the proscuitto and buffalo mozzerella with homemade basil pesto and home-grown cherry tomato pizza my friend just posted for her pic. I feel bad that I'm not more in touch with all these people from high school, and maybe I really SHOULD have tried harder to stay in touch with Tammy Joe or whomever.
When I log off, I think, "waaaaiiiit a minute. I don't stay in touch with these people because we weren't really good friends in high school, and we're not even friends now. I didn't WANT to stay in touch with Tammy Joe." So what do I care about Tammy Joe's picture-perfect life?
Maybe I should "unfriend" everyone off my account except family and friends I actually want to keep in touch with.
And what's more... I struggle to remember that what people post on Facebook most of the time is not the nitty-gritty of real life. It's this perfect slice of their life that they want the world to see. They keep the struggle and the heartache and the tough stuff to themselves, most of the time. Facebook is for your happy face, the person you want to be. It's not for displaying the person that you actually ARE. A little bit of main-stream, society-wide narcissism--the pervasive assumption that other people care about what we ate, what music we're listening to, or what cute words your toddler just strung together.
Granted, I realize that I can't make sweeping statements like that. Some people really do have their highs and lows on Facebook. A lot of people don't. And a large group of people DOES seem to care about what you just ate. And some of the stuff on Twitter is hilarious. I know because my friend emails them to me.
Then I sat down and started writing our Christmas letter. As I was mentally reviewing our past year and glossing over our low points and struggles, I had an uncomfortable realization. Here I hold these fairly negative views of social media, and what else am I doing than presenting an old-fashioned snapshot of that "happy face" that I decry on Facebook? I carefully craft the letter to only show the fun stuff, the amusing stuff, the interesting stuff. Everybody does. That's the art of the Christmas letter. Holy Hannah. All I'm really doing is sending out a really long Facebook post. I'm assuming that people I haven't really stayed in touch with all year actually CARE about what we've done.
Well, this is embarassing. And if you carry that further, I have a BLOG, for cripe's sake. Seems slightly more narcissistic than Facebook, really.
Huh. Well, I have no intention of changing my Christmas letter behavior. I guess like 90% of the people on Facebook, I prefer to play the tough stuff close to the vest. Seems that I'll be sending out my cards a little heavier for a slice of narcissism. Hope you all forgive me. And really, I actually DO look forward to all the other letters from people, so if people look forward to mine, is it still narcissistic of me?
Ugh, my head is starting to hurt. I'm just going to finish stuffing these envelopes and nursing my papercuts.
Merry Christmas!
