Facebook, small worlds and all that: sight unseen I'll trade you my relatives for yours

A while ago I set up a (non-blog-related) FB page to keep track of family pictures. I was hoping to keep up on weddings, babies, birthdays, etc., quietly and painlessly. I also hoped that I'd get to see family pictures without having to download attachments. Sounds sensible, right? Hah.

First friend requests:

sister's ex-husband and several of his more dubious relatives.

Next friend request: a cousin of Himself's, who seems to have forgotten that when her mother died, she sued us for the return of the wedding present her mother had given us. What, you thought you were the only one with wacko relatives?

Third friend request: a former MD at a Noted Financial Services firm, now defunct, who is starting a new firm and who has quite obviously forgotten that I stomped on his foot FOR A VERY GOOD REASON when we were seated next to one another at a business development breakfast.




Finally, some requests from cherished younger relatives - yes! the ones who post cute baby pictures! - and an unsolicited lecture from another about the appropriateness vel non of intergenerational FB connections. Who asked her? Out of curiosity I snuck onto her page, it was perfectly innocuous, and some of her friends were the very kids who had friended me.

Then Himself saw the baby pix and the offers for free cigars and early notice of wine sales, and decided to set up his own  page. I advised him to fill in as little personal info as possible.

However, as a proud graduate of a certain Small Eastern Liberal Arts School, Himself could not resist mentioning that key fact. Did I mention that this took place at that time of year when the diligent children of a certain type of parent (grr, grr) are working on college applications? He received over 8,000 friend requests the first day. The page crashed. Before the crash, he actually looked at requests from applicants and messages about their sterling qualities, messages in languages neither of us recognized, messages from guidance counselors, friend requests from parents of applicants, and daily solicitations from a man he avoids assiduously at reunions, the College's Director of Development. He hasn't tried to get back into the page since.

Meanwhile, in an excess of good feeling, I accepted a friend request from the wife of the son of a favorite (now deceased) relative. Not.a.good.idea. This lady apparently lives on Facebook and is the reason for the invention of the word "overshare." She joins things. She likes things. She believes in things. Naturally I will defend to the death her First Amendment right to be an idiot, it's just that she's so busy that I often don't bother to scroll to the end of her activititoss woohere I could see something I might really want to see. And I can't get rid of her! Facebook supposely lets you rank the kinds of stories you want to see, but  it has decided all by itself that her "likes" and "supports" and "thoughts of the day" are of greater importance than new babies. I've even reported her posts as Spam, to avail. FB seems to have a different view of the end of the world than I do.
I'm teetering on the verge of un-friending her, if I can't find a way just to block her posts. If she were a real-life nuisance, I could at least screen my calls. Update: just checked to make sure my "un-friending" has taken effect, and learned she likes Magic Mike. The pictures that adorn this gem tell me that Magic Mike is a male stripper. Where is the End of the World when you need it? Repent! Repent!