“Welcome to Facebook.” I read these words, and my mission begins. Unlike some students, my passion does not lie in an average hobby such as a sport, reading, or even Quidditch Club. Instead, my greatest pleasure stems from the delicate art of “creeping.”
Many people admit to having Facebook stalking tendencies, but only a select few–including myself–are true, champion creepers. It takes a substantial sacrifice of homework time and true dedication to reach my professional level of stalker-ness, along with my polished set of creeping techniques.
My typical “stalk-sesh” starts out on the home page. Have you ever realized how many times a day people say, “Oh, I saw that on my news feed…”? It’s pure gold. Name, after name, after name pops up with each refresh of the page, leading me straight to the latest information that I desire. I delve deep into each profile, examining everything from recent photos, to the “Info” box, to status updates, to wall posts, but knowing how to creep is not enough to flourish as a genuine FB stalker.
Being able to pull it off without people seriously thinking you’re creepy is the hardest part. My creeping is set apart from all others because I am not afraid to admit that I “saw that on your Facebook last night.” After using this line multiple times in a single minute, it is now commonly accepted that I am an accomplished Facebook stalker, but no one even cares anymore. It’s no big deal, really.
It would be safe to say that no one can escape from my profile-examining eyes, and many unsuspecting people become targets for my compulsive Facebook stalking habits. Of course, I have my select few subjects whom I obsess over, checking their profiles for updates numerous times a day. But as each year of high school passes, it seems that I choose one special someone as my foremost victim of creeping and obsession. Ninth grade it was Zach Arostegui; tenth grade, Alex Peck; eleventh grade, Logan McMillen… But it’s okay.
These people are fully aware that I stalk them, and they’ve accepted it. It has come to a point where I can open a chat box with Alex Peck, type “I love you… just saying…,” send it, and get away with it. This has actually occurred on several occasions, and although I am often left with no response, I know it’s okay because creeping is what I do. Just embrace it.
Considering the number of statuses I’ve liked and links I’ve commented on–my most conservative estimate puts it at about 50,000–I can confidently say that I am one of the most Facebook-savvy people to ever exist in this universe. If something is out there, I’ll find it. So here’s a tip for those who want to keep their business from those nosy enough to creep: Don’t write anything you don’t want seen via wall post. Doing so is basically begging me to click that “View Wall-to-Wall” button and educate myself on your personal life.
The things I see while creeping on my friends’–both real-life friends and strictly online friends– walls never fail to fascinate me for at least twenty solid minutes… Far too many “MLIA” posts, a couple hundred “Texts From Last Night”, inside jokes that I don’t find funny at all, and the worst: a million, billion of those possibly creepy/possibly flirty smiley faces [ 🙂 ]. I consider all of it to be there for the purpose of entertaining me, the Facebook stalker.
As frightening as my friends and classmates may find it, stalking people on Facebook really is my reason for living. Nothing can hold my attention for nearly as long as my favorite social networking site, and I can literally feel some sort of magnetic pull luring me toward my beloved Facebook. I can promise that as long as you keep Facebooking, I’ll keep stalking. I’ll be there, day and night, weekday and weekend, with the little green circle next to my name. Always online, always creeping.
