How to Appear Cooler on Facebook Than You Really Are
Being cool on Facebook is an art form that I’ve mastered through years of trial and error. Here’s what I’ve learned.
When it comes to being awesome on the web, it’s important to remember that less is more. Think of yourself as an Internet minimalist, if you will, and avoid making status updates like this one: “Had a beautiful day out with the BF! We ate Thai food, and went to Target to look for new curtains. Now it’s time to watch How to Lose A Guy in Ten Days in bed! Snuggle.”
There are so many things that are uncool about this. First off: Go eff yourself because I’m single and starving and Thai food sounds amazing right now. Secondly: You’re going to Target to pick out curtains and spending your night watching an almost-funny rom-com? We all do that. We all go to Target to pick up our face wash and deodorant and spend the occasional night in with our Netflix accounts. I mean, cool people can’t be going to super cool parties and be hanging out with super cool people all the time. Sometimes they need to detox by having a night of eating pickles out of a jar and Googling The Olsen Twins. The difference between the cool and the uncool is that the cool person never talks about doing any of these mundane activities. It makes them sound just like everybody else and that’s their worst nightmare. They are not like you, okay? They are golden gods who crap Polaroids and sweat Marc Jacobs perfume.
If for some reason, you haven’t left your apartment in a few days or done anything noteworthy, you can write something like, “Having the worst anxiety. Taking a Xanax, burning sage and listening to The Cocteau Twins. Never leaving my apartment.” This status works on so many levels of cool. Having anxiety, for example, is really cool. Being anxious and not knowing how to deal with things/life/boyfriends is in right now so it’s totally okay to write about drugs like Xanax on the Internet. You can never write about coke or mushrooms or acid because that’s just too real, but discussing anti-anxiety meds and sleeping pills like Ambien is socially acceptable.
Listening to The Cocteau Twins will always be cool and saying that you’ll never leave your apartment is hyperbolic and therefore super funny. Everyone will know that you’re mostly kidding and that you’re just decompressing from your super cool fun stressful life.
Now lets talk about your actual Facebook profile. On your Interests section, don’t write things like, “Hiking. Tennis. Laughing Till It Hurts. Hanging with my girls and getting crazy!” Instead, type in lower case letters (it’s more whimsical) and say things like, “cashmere. sleepovers. goths.” That’s it. Only write three vague things that don’t actually reveal anything about your personality. It will leave people wanting more and thinking, “Who is this person who types in lowercase and likes cashmere, sleepovers and Goths?” A cool person, that’s who!
When it comes to the music section, keep it similarly short and sweet. You need to list two hip bands next to a mainstream one. Write something like, “the slits. tiger trap. katy perry.” because you know what’s cooler than a cool person liking cool bands? A cool person liking an uncool artist. It’s just so…unexpected.
Lets talk about your photos. If you really want to be dedicated, you’ll only make your profile pictures visible. In this technological age, you can’t trust that your best friend Chloe isn’t going to tag a photo of you drunk and eating a hot dog. (Remember that Chloe secretly hates you and wants to see you fail.)
But I understand that most cool kids are too narcissistic for that and they need their friends to see any and all photos of them dancing in that downtown club doing coke off of Vincent Gallo’s penis. (Just kidding on that last part. The Internet doesn’t know you do coke.)
Just be very particular about which photos stay tagged. Don’t exceed over 500 because it makes you look like a desperate socialite. De-tag photos taken with a cheap digital camera. Allow only Polaroids, Lomography, and photos taken with a Yashica T4.
Let these photos project a sense of superiority and effortlessness and always keep the following pictures tagged: You on yachts, eating In N’ Out on a sidewalk outside of a club, hanging out with your fabulous best friend who equals you in coolness (in reality, she might be a sociopath nightmare but you guys look great together in photos), the occasional “I’m real and have a family” photo of you and your niece, holding a champagne bottle, talking on your Blackberry in a cab, hiking in Los Angeles in a crop-top to show that you’re healthy and exercise and don’t do too many drugs. Last but not least: any and all photos of you looking expensive.
So that’s it. You’re cool on Facebook now. Have fun but also be careful. One photo of you holding a nondescript red cup of booze with the friends from your “old life” and you’re back to writing about eating Thai food with your boyfriend.
You Only Have Two Real Friends, Maximum by Chelsea Fagan
One of the interesting side effects of moving across the world for an as-yet-undetermined length of time is seeing friendships molt, wither, and then–usually–fade into oblivion. Most friends and lovers (I hate that term, by the way, but it’s more palatable than “person you are occasionally boning”) become nothing more than a few conversations over the span of a year that consist mostly of “Man, it’s been forever. Wow.”
And I know what you’re thinking: “My friends/bffs/blood sisters/trusted clergy members are different. We would Skype regularly if one of us lived on THE MOON.” I know, I thought so, too. As does everyone when they take an extended leave of absence. When we leave, we do so with the best of intentions: Lots of hugs, a couple of tears, breathless promises to call all the time. And while some relationships can’t even stand the separation of a semester away, at least those come with a finite end, and can be planned for and adjusted to. When one just moves away, there’s no motivation to keep the spark alive–you guys might never regularly hang out again.
It’s rather depressing, the trajectory a friendship takes when put on indefinite hiatus. There are an opening few weeks or perhaps an excited little month in which you talk every day, almost. You have so much to say, things are so awesome, you guys can’t wait to tell each other all about that evil wench in line at the grocery store and this guy who could totally hit it if he wanted to but is–as of yet–oblivious to your existence. Then, gradually, conversations become less frequent and more of a chore. Recounting everything that happened since your last big chat–if there’s nothing particularly pressing to discuss–becomes an exercise in forced enthusiasm. “Oh, you took a poop today? TWO!? Big girl on campus!” Eventually, you are reduced to occasionally seeing each other on Facebook chat and barely mustering a “Hey, what’s up?” followed by a “brb” that never ends. And these are people with whom you used to share everything, with whom you exchanged knowing glances at house parties and shared Deer Park bottles full of vodka.
And let’s not even think about the path that most romantic long-distance relationships take, as that is far too sad to even consider.
But the silver lining on all of this is those one or two people that truly stand out–the ones with whom you actually do KIT (Keep In Touch, for the middle-school yearbook illiterate). When there is that person with whom you actually enjoy regular conversation, sharing mundane news, and talking about events that you didn’t necessarily experience together, it’s so satisfying in a way most friendships aren’t. It’s a love that says “You’re amazing and interesting even when it’s not easy to get to you. You are worth the effort.” It’s a beautiful thing and, in some ways, restorative of the perhaps over-zealous and often-broken faith we have in close friendships. It’s a selfless, platonic, mutual love. It’s a Shell Silverstein book drinking together over Skype.
Although we must also acknowledge what that really implies about most of our other friendships: Whether we like it or not, a good portion (if not the majority) of our relationships are built as much on proximity and convenience as on real love and compatibility. Which is fine, of course, as long as we acknowledge it. A friendship that will go the distance and be just as vital when there isn’t the daily drama and intimacy of shared experience is incredibly rare. We have a lot of friendships that are, ultimately, based heavily on amount of time spent at house parties and number of romantic prospects you laughingly veto over drinks.
So cheers to the friends who make it through the distance, and it’s a shame we can’t pick them out as easily when we’re together all the time. They certainly deserve the recognition. But I suppose, if you’re not going anywhere anytime soon, it might behoove you to ask yourself the question as you glance around the next drunken gathering: If I lived in Hong Kong, which one of these douchebags would snail mail me Reese’s cups? 
..."Success is waking up in the morning, whoever you are, wherever you are, however old or young, and bounding out of bed because there's something out there you love to do, that you believe in, that you're good at — something that's bigger than you are, and you can hardly wait to get at it again today..." - Whit Hobbs
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