I don't begrudge those who are in love. It must be a wonderful time. A time for existing in your own couply bubble. A time for getting comfortable with all the things you despise about yourself. A time for getting comfortable with all the things you despise about someone else. A time for feeling all gooey and mushy inside. I don't begrudge any of this. I just don't appreciate it when someone else's romantic goo and mush gets all over my life.
You know what I'm talking about - PDAing. Public Displays of Affection. Not being able to turn a street corner without seeing two people practically jumping each other or playing a spot of tonsil hockey or rubbing noses or cooching and cooing each other. Train platforms, bus stations, Myers cosmetic counters, the park bench, McDonalds. Like pigeons, PDAers are everywhere.
And now, they're on Facebook too.
PFAs - Public Facebooks of Affection.
Example -
Sarah Needy is missing her man. He ducked out to get some milk and it feels like eternity!
Jenny Overshare is sooo lucky to have a boyfriend who'll massage her bunions after a long day at the office.
Sally Obsessed is deciding whether to polish her engagement ring or try on her wedding dress again. Hope my hubby-to-be doesn't come home with a surprise bunch of flowers and catch me out!
Um...bucket anyone? Or maybe a spew bag?
It doesn't stop there though. It gets better...or worse. PFAing is not limited to profile updates alone. There are those PFAers who like to take it one step further and post their viciously vomitous PFAs on each other's walls, subjecting the rest of their Facebook community to the ins-and-outs of every romantic thought, notion or activity which might occur in the day-to-day happenings of their relationship.
Molly Mad-Hatter > Peter Pumkin-Eater: just in case u forgot, your da man of my dreamz. xoxoxox
Peter Pumpkin-Eater > Molly Mad-Hatter: ditto. except your not a man.
Molly Mad-Hatter > Peter Pumpkin-Eater: i can't wait until i becum Mrs. Molly Mad-Hatter-Pumpkin-Eater. xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Peter Pumpkin-Eater > Molly Mad-Hatter: I can't wait 2.
Molly Mad-Hatter > Peter Pumpkin-Eater: I love you pumpy-wumple-kins. xoxxoxox
Peter Pumpkin-Eater > Molly Mad-Hatter: me 2 molly-jolly-wobbles.
(NB. All stupid spellings and TXT-references included in this example are not a representation of the grammatical abilities of this writer. They are merely a representation of the idiocy of Generation Y and what this writer believes to be further proof that 70 percent of those highschoolers who graduated between 2003 and the present must have flunked English.)
So maybe a slight over-exaggeration but you get the point.
The thing is that PFAers don't really see the sticky line of goo and mush they trail across their Facebook pages. They post these things completely unawares to the hacking-and-gagging happening on their friends' computer screens all over the planet. Why? Because they are happily bobbing about in their little Bubble Of Coupledom. And when you live in the little Bubble Of Coupledom, who gives a flying fart what's going on outside? You've got each other and the Bubble's thin film of smugness to surround you and keep you warm at night.
I'm not jealous, of course. In fact, if someone posted something so romantically wretch-worthy and with so many damn spelling mistakes on my Facebook wall, the relationship would fast meet a gooey, mushy end.
So take that, Molly Mad-Hatter.
Ciao for now. xo
P.S. I just re-read this to check for spelling mistakes before posting and decided that maybe I'm becoming a little too cynical in my twenty-something age. Then I checked my Facebook and spotted a PFAer operating without a license and almost gagged all over my freshly purchased sunflowers. So whatever. Cynicsm rules. We might just get married. Isn't that right, cynny-winni-cisms. xoxoxoxoxo
(Image Credit: Le Love)
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