Logging on to Facebook always makes for a depressing read. Seeing all those faces enjoying life… going to parties and traveling the world. And then there’s the damn friend count, an arbitrary measure of how many people love us. Reminds me of a time in school when a kid came up to me and asked if I would be his friend. I said “sure,” and he happily walked off. Never saw him again. I later caught wind that a few kids were trying to see who could make more “friends” in a single day. Kinda the real-life equivalent to the Facebook thing.

But just for the hell of it, I took a look at how many friends each of my Facebook friends had. Most of them were in the three digit range. The youngest were in the thousands. I dunno what game their playing. “Yeah, I have 1,500 friends. That means 1,500 people would let me crash at their place. I never spend a night alone. MY WEEKENDS ARE BOOKED SOLID!” Yeah, well. I’m just gonna diddle myself and go to bed early. How about that?

Maybe I’m reading too much into it. After all, more online friends could just mean you spend a crap load of time online. I always have to specify “Facebook friends” from actual friends. Facebook friends are just ghosts. A name and picture. Probably someone I knew once that I’ll never see again. To me, it’s a short list of all the people under 30 I’ve ever had a meaningful conversation with. If that.

So yeah, the fewer the better. Because the people you can really count on seem to measure in the single digits. At least, that’s what’s true for me.

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