"Phew! Just ran 3k at the gym, now off to pick last minute bits for tomorrows roast with the fam- then gonna cuddle up with my man ready for Take Me Out – Bliss!"
Ticking off your to do list within a status update and gently reminding us you have a boyfriend just makes the rest of us (mainly me) feel bad when we are still in bed, massively hungover and putting in an order for Domino's at 3pm on a Saturday (again mainly me). Cryptically shouting about a life changing opportunity/ possible lottery win also does nothing for the reader's self esteem when stuck in an office taking calls from confused pensioners for £5 per hour. Announcing your arrival at Asda, accompanying your status and check in with a selfie is also, really not called for.
Yes, I think the day has finally come: I have grown tired of Facebook. Time was I would log on with an excitement not dissimilar to that felt when you get an extra side at Nando's.
I was interested to see what people had been up to. Had any more old school friends added me? What did they look like now? What was the girl who smelt of cheese from my RE class doing with her life? (Paediatrician if you care to know). Even the inspirational pictures and comments were bearable. Nowadays I avoid logging on like the plague.
Why? Because I am sick of everybody rubbing in their 'perfect' (but obviously not so perfect because you wouldn't bother updating) lives. That or boring me to death with their mundane day to day activities.
Don't get me wrong if you're getting married, congratulations! You've scored a part in 'Sherlock', I wanna tune in. Just given birth to a bouncing baby boy and named him Rupert Geoffrey Bernard Junior The Third? I'm genuinely happy for you. I want to read about this stuff. Lord knows there's enough crap going on in the world, learning that the only boy who asked to slow dance with me at the Year Six Disco and didn't call me fat has had a beautiful baby boy makes me smile.
Reading that you've just pulled up at Tesco after getting your nails done ready for a night with the girls does not. Post a picture up as proof of your arrival (just in case the check in and clear stating of location wasn't enough) and I want to punch the screen.
When did it become a competition? Why do we feel we have to paint pictures of perfect lives? Why do we have to prove we are cramming it all in? It's taken keeping up with the Joneses to the next level: now we're even rivalling how much we've achieved by 8.45am on a Saturday! You suddenly start to feel bad about your own achievements. I mean yes I did cook, wash up, and put the bins out all before 'Eastenders' started but Julie (a girl I apparently went to Tumble Tots with) has done all of the above and a Zumba class – Instantly I feel like a failure. In fairness the girl in question now works in finance and I'm still a jobbing performer, slogging it out in a call centre but that's neither here nor there.
Hands up, I'll admit I'm not innocent. I've posted updates, bragging of wonderful weekends but it's usually been after a drunken row with a boyfriend or a disappointing romantic break desperately not wanting to admit its fizzling out. The times I've been genuinely happy I've not even once checked in, unfortunately I probably was having too good a time to take a snap shot and there isn't even a photo to document it.
So yesterday morning I did it. I geared myself up and I deactivated my account… I lasted 20 minutes before being forced to reactivate after receiving a text urging me to look at a school friends recent attempt at a HD Brow. It became apparent. I'm addicted. I'm addicted to poring over the lives of others as I fill my face with Domino's hotdog stuffed crust pizza (disgustingly good). So that leaves me with two options: a) I deal with it and refer to my status decoding chart below, perhaps posting a sarcastic comment from time to time when I'm due on or, B) I I spin my miserable frame of my mind into a positive sunnier one… like a Mouseketeer and let it push me into leading a slightly more exciting life myself.
In the meantime and knowing that I am not alone in wanting to smash my iPhone every time these updates clog the news feed, take a look at my decoding below and get on with making your day the best it can be which sometimes just is a meal deal, getting a seat on the tube and a shag.
"Perfect Sunday- beautiful pub roast with hubby, catch up with the parents, now cuddling up ready for 'Downton'"
Translation: Had lunch at a local Harvester with my boyfriend (not yet hubby but hoping constantly referring to him as such will prompt/bully a proposal out of him), went round my mum's in a huff because we argued over the bill, put out so he'd let me watch 'Downton', he's only cuddling me because he wants to watch Match Of The Day.
"It's only 9am and I've already been to the gym, renovated an old chest of drawers and baked some cupcakes!!!!!!!!!"
Translation: Single Men -MARRY ME!!! I'M WIFE MATERIAL. I'M IN GOOD SHAPE!! I'M A HOMEMAKER… I BAKE!!!!
Louisa checked in at Hoxton Square. Louisa: "Out with my girls! Whoop! Messy Times!!! #singlelife. #gincocktails #messy #overit"
Translation: "I'm soooo over you. But here's my exact location… I'll be here till like 4am… I will be forgetting about your cheating, lying ways because I'm already drunk. I've deleted your phone number so please see this as I can't drunk dial you."
Alex Neve is an actress/stand up with big love for pesto, gin and anything that will make her bottom appear smaller and slightly firmer. She can do a forward roll (returning to stand) and once directed Geri Halliwell to the Hermes section in Harrods. Her goal this year is to achieve her childhood dream – successfully cross monkey bars. Her personal best to date is bar two. You can follow her on Twitter HERE.
Pictured: An early selfie, Alex Neve
