For the adult, checking Facebook once a week is a new sport you participate in once a week. For the high schooler, checking Facebook is something you do when you're not on MySpace or YouTube or LiveJournal or Xanga or AIM. But, for the college student, checking Facebook less than once an hour is a faux pas, social suicide, inexcusable: if you do not check your Facebook profile more times a day than there are hours you are awake--you're in trouble.
Speaking for two recent college graduates, we at 22IsTheEnd are still running on a schedule that requires our being on Facebook more minutes a day than we spend actually working at work. This isn't actually our fault, though: it is the product of having spent the past four years in college slaving over the art of Facebook stalking and replying tactfully to Facebook messages whilst drunk. But, the only difference in our Facebooking as "adults" versus our Facebooking while in college, is that people do not give a damn about our profiles anymore.
Recently, checking Facebook and going to our profiles is like taking an optimistic walk through a ghost town: you hope you're going to see something new but, inevitably, you won't. Your friends from school are either still at school or you don't talk to them because they are in a different city. Your "new" friends (if you are so ~*~bLeSsEd~*~ to have them) don't know you as a Facebooker but rather as an adult. Thus, the only people who Facebook you are you're best friends who always Facebook you. This is not a bad thing; however, when you log in twenty times a day and you've only received one message from your fellow blogger/business partner, you feel incomplete and like you want to take your profile behind the work dumpster and put it out of its misery (believe me--I've come real close).
Moreover, in our year removed from school, living the high life of the 2-2, Facebook has devolved into a wasteland where you:
1. Receive friend requests from people you don't care about;
2. Get frequent postings from relatives who should not be on Facebook
3. Or, are persistently sent resumes from people you knew in elementary school who know you work in the biz and really would like to get into the entertainment industry but have only worked as a waiter but know that entertainment is "where they belong."
Facebook for the 22 year old + crowd is a sad, hollow sham. It reminds me of those elderly people you see at tennis courts shuffling around the green pavement chasing tennis balls: the sport will never be the same for them, even though they try to force it to be.
And, in 2009, maybe our Facebook profile's shifting toward obsoleteness is a good thing: who wants to be obsessing over an unnoticed profile when you have a shiny new blog?
(And, Facebook gives you cancer, so fuck that boolshite--I'm gon keep blogging.)