Fakebook by Dave Cicirelli Read Free Book Online Page A

was why I wanted to do Fakebook in the first place. That’s what had captured our imagination at the Dublin House over Labor Day weekend.
    Posting the Ben Franklin images would be taking a stand—staying true to my belief that Facebook was just a silly diversion, something that deserved to be seen for how superficial it really was. I wasn’t going to be pressured by Christine’s criticism or Matt Campbell’s support.
    I switched back to Facebook to upload the first picture.
    But in that split second I inadvertently reread the line about “teasing Kelly in the seventh grade.”
    I used to have a crush on Kelly, who used to live next door to Matt. I’d almost forgotten all about that.
    I sat back in a room illuminated only by backlit words of support from someone I barely knew, but knew well enough to spark a fifteen-year-old memory that had all but faded away. He’d written a sentence that only had meaning between him and me.
    It suddenly occurred to me that Facebook isn’t just a website. It’s an experience, and a deeply strange, deeply personal one. It involves almost everyone you know and everyone you once knew.
    Updates posted by ex-girlfriends living on the other side of the world, your own mother commenting on photos of last night’s debauchery, a real-time review of a McDonald’s McGriddle from your tenth-grade lab partner—it’s laughable on the surface. But it’s also hard to ignore the feelings stirred by an ex-girlfriend’s update, how much this new transparency has changed your relationship with Mom, how that review keeps an old friend from fading out of memory. The relationships may not have evolved in years, but with Facebook, they haven’t disappeared either. It’s the cold storage unit of friendships, keeping them on hold, just one compelling post away from revival.
    I’d decided to fake my profile because I was looking at Facebook as a whole, but that was a mistake. Everything looks smooth from a distance. But I was tapping into something much less frivolous and much more personal than I’d thought. It was morally complex but also irresistibly compelling. I didn’t know what I was on to, exactly…but I knew I was on to something.
    Christine was right. Bar crawling with Ben Franklin was too much. It could destroy the project before I even had a chance to understand it. And I wasn’t quite willing to have Fakebook fall apart over something this silly, at least not yet.
    So instead, my Facebook profile had a pleasant, uneventful few days in Philadelphia, enjoying the virtual hospitality of a friend and keeping Fakebook in a holding pattern.
    Dave Cicirelli
Chillin In Philla—after finally having a night’s sleep with a roof over my head. Thanks so much Jen.

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    Jennifer Morton Good to have you here Dave, you really do need to shower more often while on the road though.
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    Dave Cicirelli
Thanks Christine for putting me in touch with your lovely mother Siobhan at the library. I’m going to spend the rest of the day reading about other journeys out west.
    Here’s a book on the Donner Party. That worked out, right?
    â€”with Siobhan O’Loughlin Reardon .

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    Christine Reardon So glad you guys were able to meet up!
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    Joe Moscone I like that Christine’s mom looks younger than her. (Burn!)
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    Marc Flanagan He’s joking, Christine. You look at least 3 years younger than your mom.
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    Christine Reardon Uhh thanks, Marc?? Haha. You boys are just HILarious.
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    Dave Cicirelli What an awkward thing to read next to Siobhan.
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    Siobhan O’Loughlin Reardon It was nice to have met you Dave. Come again.
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    Dave