Free Socially Awkward by Stephanie Haddad Page B

another for models with acting aspirations.  There really is something for everyone on Facebook. I bet my actual profile might benefit from joining some groups or “liking” a few things here or there. If nothing else, at least this sociology experiment would teach me a thing or two about social networking. It couldn’t be all bad, right?
     
    Not that this project wasn’t without its bad points too, or at least, its unsavory ones. I had to repress my gag reflex that night as I navigated through a string of distasteful conversation openers in my message box. Highlights included:
     
    “You’re so hot! How old are you?”
     
    “Please pos t more photos… wearing less clothing ! ”
     
    “ You look familiar… Did I meet you at the Playboy mansion that one time?”
     
    Please, people. Disgusting, unimaginative, and just downright wrong. When guys t hink you’re gorgeous, is this how they talk to you? Having never fielded a pick-up line before , either online or in person, I didn’t really have a frame of reference. I took note of the comments, deleted the messages so I didn’t barf on my keyboard, and let the mouse hover over Sean’s picture on my Friends list.
     
    I knew I shouldn’t be talking to him, because it was too risky and totally unfair to him. But compared to the other guys whose comme nts I’d just barely been able to read while keeping my lunch in my stomach, Sean was so different . He didn’t belong grouped in with these losers. But it had been so long since we’d known each other.. . How could I really know what kind of person he was?  You could be anyone you wanted to be online. And with me being such a poser myself, who was I to judge?
    More importantly, who was I to try to start something with a guy like Sean?
     
    Like the weather in New England, my resolve wavered easily from extreme to extreme. If I gave myself enough time, I knew I’d change my mind. Sure enough, as I updated my real profile photo that night with a shot of me and Claire from the previous weekend, I found I couldn’t stop staring at myself. Sure, I still had a long way to go, but the Jennifer Smith in this picture was starting to look different. She was starting to shape up a little, smile some more. She was getting closer and closer every day to that airbrushed photo of Olivia. I got a chill just thinking about how much closer and closer I was inching toward this ideal.
     
    So when Sean messaged me again that evening, I could only blame the false bravado my changing appearance gave me for my actions. It had been a while since we’d spoken, and I couldn’t be sure if he’d lost interest or if he was being cautious around me because I’d come across as too casual. Knowing nothing about flirting etiquette or how to keep a man’s attention, I was at a total loss. Message him? Post on his wall? Leave him alone?
     
    I had no idea what I was doing. So, just for a moment, I imagined myself as Claire and tried to figure out how she would handle a situation like this. She, I knew from experience, would do something simple to reignite contact and, thus, interest. Then an idea hit me.
     
    Carefully, I scrolled through some of Sean’s recent pictures from his visit to his sister’s place in California. Sean on the beach, in a bathing suit, shirtless, tanned and glistening and… Yeah, this wasn’t exactly helping me to focus. I clicked through a few more until I spotted an innocuous picture of him with his arm around a girl that I took to be his sister and “liked” it.
     
    There… now he’d know I visited his profile, seen his pictures, and cared enough to click a button. What did that mean, exactly? To me, not a whole lot. But given my experiences with others online, it could be considered a big deal if you were waiting to hear from someone. Satisfied, although a bit puzzled by social networking culture, I decided to step away from his profile before something bad happened and I screwed things up for me… er,