Our Guide to Running into People You Unfriended on Facebook in Public

You probably won’t be surprised to learn that our Facebook friend lists are similar to our real life friend lists, in that they are both smaller and hopefully more meaningful than those kept by many of our peers. We are more than simply not impressed by your 1500+ “friend” list, we are in full-on “Really!?” mode. This is just another way that you’re doing it wrong (“it” being Facebook, but also probably life). Are you maintaining any sort of meaningful relationships with all of these people? Do you think that you could answer, “Who’s [NAME]?” to every single single entry if we went through your list?

We could go on and on, but we’re not here to rant or lecture today, we’re here to help. If you’re anything like us, you semi-annually have a Facebook purge (which should never be annoyingly advertised with a “If you’re still reading this, then I didn’t delete you!” post). To stay on our Facebook friend list, a person must be someone who:
A. Hasn’t completely fucked us over/broken our hearts
B. We would actually call a friend
C. We have seen in the past year and will likely see in the next year (mutual friends, co-workers, classmates, etc.)
D. We cannot delete because of obligations/guilt (childhood friends, weird family members, references, etc.)
E. Provides us with some form of entertainment (funny cat pictures, links to thought-provoking articles, general ineptitude, etc.)

Rarely is the deletion a malicious act. Time goes by. We change schools, jobs, locations, and group affiliations, and we cannot keep up all of the relationships we begin during all these different periods of our lives. Life goes on and we gotta clean that shit up. However, it’s inevitable that you will, at some point in your life, run into an ex-Facebook friend. This can be a difficult situation for both parties, the unfriender and the unfriendee, especially when each of them almost always knows who did what.

Oh God, I wish this wasn’t happening

Last weekend, Anya went out with the Libertarian to the local breakfast joint/drug den and was OF COURSE seated next to a booth full of people we went to high school with, the makeup of which ranged from ex-lover to vague enemy. After the typical “how long can I go pretending that I haven’t noticed you sitting there?” she and Paul’s ex-lover feigned surprise and greeting at the same time. Now, obviously the dynamics here are many and varied, but the real fuckup here was that Anya mentioned to one girl at the table how much she enjoys seeing her dog pictures on Facebook (this was genuine, but also a good indicator of how swimmingly that conversation was going).

Fine, the dog is not quite this adorable.

Having unfriended at least two other people at the table in the name of Why Should I Give You A Window Into My Life You Creepass, this probably wasn’t the best thing she could have said. Learn from her mistakes, and adopt one of the following techniques to deal with the icy silence or hurt confrontations from those you thought you had left behind.

Option A: Lie, lie, lie some more
Coming in very low on the maturity scale is our first option, just lie about it. This works especially well for people who are technologically incompetent and/or prone to believing things like “if babies are born underwater they have gills”. When confronted about your sudden disappearance from their Newsfeed feel free to say anything ranging from “Oh my gosh, it’s so weird, I think Facebook just deleted a bunch of my friends for no reason!” to “Yeah, I’ve been trying to rebuild my friend list since my Facebook was hacked.” (Also can be used to explain your Spotify boy band fetish) You’ll both feel pretty bad afterwards, but it’s better than admitting “I don’t wish ill upon you, I just literally couldn’t care less about your crappy job/sad engagement/Tumblr reposts/life.”

Option B: Completely awkward and inappropriate avoidance
Anya opted for this, the middle of the road on the maturity scale. This maneuver is only good for encounters that you know for a fact will be brief and situations where you have an obvious and readily available escape route. It’s very simple: avoid eye contact, talk about very generic topics with anyone in the group that’s not them (the weather! your pancakes! that unfortunate looking baby your mutual ex friend just had!), and then flee as quickly as possible. If you’re good at this sort of thing, definitely do the all encompassing smile greet so they can’t say you completely ignored them, because you were addressing the whole group with your concerns about the state of the five year class reunion plans (namely, that it’s happening). Hit it and quit it, rip it off like a band-aid, etc.

Option C: Be an adult and pretend like it never happened (ideal)
This is how we deal with the people in our lives who have fallen out of favor or are on the shit list: we suck it up and have a civil conversation with them. In order to apply Option C, we need to believe that the person we’ve unfortunately encountered has the good sense to join us in ignoring the fact that we don’t care for each other and just focus on getting all of our humblebrags in before we are able to go our separate ways in the elevator/on the street corner/down the hallway. In this case, you will need to rush in and get busy catching up before they have time to bring up the fact that you must not care that much about what they’re doing since you UNFRIENDED THEM like six months ago.

Hannah’s “friend” on her recently published memoir: “It just really poured out of me!”

Good luck!

The Impossible Trifecta

Last week, we told you about our friend Swiss Miss, who thinks she’s basically the greatest human to live in recent history. It’s not a stretch to say that if you asked her, she would tell you that she’s prettier than Natalie Portman (because who likes brunettes? ugh), she’s smarter than that one guy who studies shit in space (because who cares?), and she’s nicer than anyone else she knows or has heard of, including Mother Teresa (just because she’s a nun, it doesn’t mean she’s the kindest, most generous soul evar). Her presence is a present, and all that.

No one man can have all that power.

What Swiss Miss doesn’t understand (well...that list is actually endless but ONE thing she definitely doesn’t understand) is that no one is genuinely nice, smart, AND pretty. It just doesn’t happen. Having spent an inordinate amount of time studying this phenomena, we are here to tell you exactly why no one is really the total package. The answer is so simple, and yet elegant in the way it captures the human condition. People are not all of these things because: it is way too much work for no discernible payoff except perhaps higher attendance at your funeral.

Yes, we know, it’s upsetting. Some of you are probably either saying “but I know someone who IS all three of those things!” or “I AM the total package!”. You are all lying. Sorry, not sorry. The important thing to remember is that all of these traits involve a spectrum, personal taste, etc. What we’re saying is that everyone is just enough of each to get by in life. Or they’re delusional and confused about why they have no friends/their coworkers hate them/their relationships never work out.

So here’s our hypothesis and reasoning:

You’ve all played The Sims. You know how you can assign points on each spectrum for their personalities? So when you make your Sim a genius, you have to sacrifice points in the neatness/social aptitude/work ethic category. That shit is real life, people. But here we have only three categories, and a much wider spectrum.

Everyone has to be at least one of these things to get through life. You can be extremely beautiful in a way that appeals to the vast majority of people but not terribly intelligent or nice (Kim Kardashian), you can be a genius who is also an ugly asshole (take your pick on this one), or you can be the kind of person about whom people say “but he’s so nice” (Xander Harris). All of these people have something to rely on in their dealings with other people. They all have currency, whether it’s sexual, intellectual, or moral.

“Hmm, I know you don’t, that’s ‘cause you’re my friend. You’re my Xander-shaped friend.”

You can be two of these things, and most people are, since they’re not on the extreme end of gorgeous or saintly. We would posit that this is why old people have a reputation for being assholes. They grew up relying on pretty/smart ratio that outweighed their personality, and never adjusted once their looks faded (I already know this is totally going to happen to me, and I’m fine with it. I look forward to being a bitchy old lady who is only nice to service people and her dogs. Like the Queen, if she were nice to service people).

Some people are smart enough to function in life, fairly normal looking, and generally nice people. They have extremely evenly distributed Sims points. And they’re boring. You can think of a dozen people like this off the top of your head, because there are millions of them in the world. Other people are good looking and nice, but kind of stupid. They’re nice to people because they know they can’t get by without some intellectual assistance. Still others are smart and nice, because they’re pretty heinous looking and they can’t get away with the kind of assholery that seems to come specifically with good looks. And then there’s our combo: apparently smart and pretty enough to get through life successfully despite the distinctly dark color of our hearts/souls. Anya’s mother despairs, but until she gets uglier or dumber, she doesn’t have to be nice.

Out of all of these traits, only once is choice (which is why my mother despairs that I don’t choose to be nicer). But, for once we will follow the logic of our co-workers and say “Why put in the work when I get everything I want without doing it?”. Embrace it, people!

But if you have enough money, you can be none of these things and apparently you’re still fine.

Perception vs. Reality

So, we have this friend. Let’s call her Swiss Miss. Swiss Miss played an integral role in our college experience, being a key player in some of the best and most of the worst memories from this time of our lives. We’re a little surprised that we somehow managed to go five months without sharing any anecdotes from this important character from our past (she spent a few seasons solidly in the the main cast, before the writers decided to reduce her role to special guest star), which we can only attribute to our doing our best to forget her.

Nobody’s perfect, but Swiss Miss has more than her fair share of flaws. We can look back now and (kind of) laugh about her numerous shortcomings because it is (almost) funny to look at them from afar (we can’t emphasize enough how not funny they are when living with her). By far and large, her biggest/saddest/most absurd problem is the extremely delusional disconnect between how she perceives herself and the reality of her questionable-at-best character.

You’re beautiful.

If you asked Swiss Miss to describe herself (but don’t worry, you will never have to persuade her to share her multifarious opinions with you), she would tell you that she is the full-packaged triple threat deal: pretty, smart, and nice (never mind that you can only ever, at most, maintain two of the elusive trifecta, of which Anya will tell you all about one day). Now, Swiss Miss is a pretty woman. Fine. We will give her that one. But smart? Not so much. And nice!? Girl has an ego and sense of entitlement that would cause her to fit right in with America’s Royal Family, the Kardashian Klan.

Never let fame affect what really matters.

We are all guilty of occasionally rating ourselves both higher and lower in specific areas, where a panel of experts would rank us rather differently. Maybe we’re extra harsh on the the state of our stomach fat or constantly insist that we are “such good drunks.” While this isn’t great, there is a huge difference between downplaying a weakness or playing up a strength (real or imagined) and having some kind of magical idealized version of yourself that exists ONLY IN YOUR HEAD AND HAS NEVER, EVER BEEN A REALITY.

That’s the worst thing about Swiss Miss. It’s not that she’s simply not a nice person. We’re not exceedingly genial people, but we’re also quite aware of this personality quirk (you say ‘flaw,’ we say ‘advantage,’ so... let’s meet somewhere in the middle?). The true issues arise from the fact that she operates on a level of cuntery and petty malice that even we can’t touch, all the while thinking that she is the greatest friend, daughter, roommate, sister, girlfriend, student, employee, and conscientious citizen in existence. She then spends an exorbitant amount of time lamenting on how unappreciated she is and how everyone in the universe is constantly taking advantage of her bottomless well of generosity.

Surely she’s not that bad you say. You’re just jealous because she’s got her life together (ha!) and you obviously don’t. She can’t be so bad that you have to make up a word like “cuntery” for her. FINE. You insisted. We hear you. Just keep reading.

Her deep-seated evil began in the womb, although it managed to hide itself rather successfully, not manifesting itself until Swiss Miss turned four, in what would infamously be known as “The Flower Incident” (alternative title: “Why Swiss Miss Will Never Be the Favorite”). On a lazy summer afternoon, young Swiss Miss was enjoying a snack of cookies. After finishing her reasonably-sized snack, Swiss Miss decided that she needed more. Her mother told her that she had eaten enough and that dinner would be served in another hour. Swiss Miss was unsatisfied with this answer and began to loudly protest, as children are wont to do.

While the beginning of the story may be a tale well-known to us all, this is where the plot diverges from the archetypal tantrum, fatherly intervention, and lesson learned, into something a bit... darker. Instead of screaming at her mother, running away, or throwing her toys around in a fit of rage, Swiss Miss quietly went into the living room. She climbed a chair, so that she could reach the top of the fireplace mantle. At the center of the mantle was a glass case holding a delicate dried rose that her father had given her mother on their first date. Swiss Miss took the sentimental flower out of the case and crushed it into a hundred pieces over the carpet.

Remind us again why we should have children?

Some of you might be apt to dismiss this singularly shocking and heinous behavior as “kids will be kids”. We might buy that if she hadn’t only gotten more diabolical with age. Also if she hadn’t destroyed something that she, as a four year old, knew was her mother’s most treasured possession, and purposely set out to punish her for limiting the cookie intake of a kindergartener. Therein lies Swiss Miss’s molten hot core of evil. Most of know people we dislike, or even hate. We have friends that hurt our feelings or siblings that make us seethe with white hot rage. What do we do about it? We suck it up, take a deep breathe, and dream up revenge fantasies that we never unleash in person. We type up vitriolic emails, wait twenty four hours, and delete them. We spend our lunch break bitching about the depravity, and then go back to work like professionals.

Swiss Miss does all of the former and none of the latter. Those awful, completely below the belt things you would never *actually* say to your parents/sister/boyfriend/co-worker? She lets it fly. Angry at your best friend? Sleep with her boyfriend to prove a point. Not happy with your meal at a restaurant? Steal the silverware, make a mess, don’t leave a tip, maybe even bitch at the waitress for good measure. Annoyed that your roommate has her boyfriend over too much? Stop speaking to her, stop doing household chores, and knock all of her towels off the rack.

The thing is, she honestly believes that all of that behavior is not only justified, but necessary. How do you get someone like that to look in the mirror and say “oh shit, I should change something”?

Answer: You can’t.

If you’re worried that this article applies to you, it probably doesn’t. These kind of people never let those pesky thoughts cross their minds.

Top 6 Looks from Mad Men S6 E5: The Flood

Boy, we sure were in a sea of blue for “The Flood” last night.  Once we started naming everyone who wore blue at some point, we couldn’t stop (Harry was a notable exception, OF COURSE). He’s really been moving steadily down in our favor, residing now toward the bottom of the shit list (see our flow chart of hatred here). In this episode, we got to see everyone deal with the tragedy of MLK’s assassination in markedly different ways. We see the people who refuse to deal with it at all (Betty), the people who focus their grief elsewhere (Don), and the people who are trying to deal with it somewhat reasonably (Pete, Joan, Peggy, Megan). This episode could definitely be broken down with an in depth analysis of the deeper meaning of eeeverything, but we’re more of the punchy “remember this great line” and “look at that fucking dress” people, because we do have jobs and we do need sleep. So enjoy our Mad Men recap!

Moments:

• Well, now we know why Ted’s trying to fuck Peggy. “Ted. Ted.” His poor canary clad wife never had a chance.
• We liked Ginsberg’s snappy date, but he wasn’t doing himself any favors with “I’ve never had sex, not even once.”
• Betty’s most mature parenting moment with Bobby ever!?
• Ginsberg’s dad, upset that Michael is home so early, “You. You going to get on the ark with your father?”
• Harry, when scumbag Pete is calling you out, you’re doing it wrong
• Joan trying so hard with Dawn, but still coming off pretty fucking racist (not that she was alone there this episode)
• Bobby’s reaction to the end of The Planet of the Apes, “Jesus.”

What happened in Mad Men’s fashion world (for us) this week:

6. Betty in Bed

Oh, Betty.  Henry tells Betty that everything’s fine (her favorite words) and she stops caring about the assassination and focuses on what really matters, her ex-husband’s parenting skills and losing the rest of that weight to become Senator’s wife sized.  Since her weight gain, Betty has had one dowdy look after another, until... well, another fairly dowdy look.  Still, we liked this cream cardigan and navy dress with the rope pattern (or, knowing Betty, barbed wire) and are also hoping from her late-night mirror gazing, that blonde Betty will come back to in the near future.

5. Trudy’s Assassination Blues

You won’t ever see us complaining about more Trudy.  After we saw her during the “Previously on Mad Men...” segment, we had a feeling she’d be back.  This look wasn’t anything phenomenal, we’re mostly featuring it because we wanted to talk about this scene.  Almost all the characters were wearing blue this episode, but Trudy’s simple blue dress helped us to remember the last time Pete and Trudy dealt with an assassination.  

 In 1963, the Campbells found a new unity following the assassination of JFK, but a lot has happened since then, and they are now separated.  We were glad to see Trudy hold her ground and not let Pete come over, but it was still a sad little scene.

4. Sylvia’s Smooth Safari

We’re pretty over Sylvia, in general.  We were solidly over Don trying to contact her in D.C./constantly watching the news coverage of D.C.  And we’re really fucking over that damn cross that she wears with every damn outfit.  Ugh.  Regardless, we can’t deny that we were taken with her clothes this episode, in her (thankfully) one brief scene at the beginning of the episode.  We’ll never see Sylvia mixing the wild prints from Megan’s arsenal, but this red and zebra-print suit was a pleasing, if fairly tame, combination.  We also liked her sneaky wave to Don, if only for the brief spark of personality it provided.

3. Peggy’s Attempted Apartment Purchasing Clothes

It was nice to have the episode open on Peggy, who was in her old power color of mustard.  The shot of Peggy silhouetted against the window of the Upper East Side apartment she tried to buy reminded us of the memorable scene of SCDP partners standing in front of their expanding office’s windows.  Peggy was not able to share that triumph because she had already struck out on her own at that point, so it was also appropriate for Peggy to experience her feeling of accomplishment here solo (thanks to Abe being late).  This might be a familiar look for Peggy, in terms of the scarf detail and the already mentioned color, but she looks good and we love watch her feel fulfilled (perhaps being the only character capable of experiencing that). A much better look for her than that strange watermelon mess awards dress.

2. Megan’s Recycled Awards Dress

Now, this is a new dress, but if you weren’t paying attention (like we obviously were), you might be asking yourself, “Didn’t she wear this extremely loud gold/coral dress last week!?”  She is really working that look to its limits, although we think her makeup is improved this week and we love the voluminous extensions.  Interesting to note that she whipped out her power color combo for another business dinner that she was again the focus of, being nominated for her work as a copywriter (which, if you recall, she had a natural talent in) at SCDP the previous year.  Also of note is the fact that Megan wins the award and nobody cares (including Megan).

1. Joan’s Promotional Picture Knockout

There was a bit of a debate about whether or not this should be the top spot of this week’s Mad Men article.  Anya was firmly on Team Joan, but Paul wasn’t completely sold (especially after hoisting her up to the top spot in the previous two weeks’ entries).  However, after screencapping and reviewing the season promotional pictures, Paul is ready to concede that Joan is shutting it down.  This sapphire dress fits her like her a glove.  The fit and color combined with her stellar earrings and the built-in bling of the dress make this dress a home fucking run.

Enlisted

We’re in the business of judgment here, but it’s not all because we’re self obsessed, or bored, or whatever other excuses people who are judging others for judging come up with. Don’t tell anyone, but sometimes we’re judging people for our own protection. A wise person on a reality television show(!) once said “Expectations in relationships are premeditated resentments”. Believe me that’s not the kind of insight I’m looking for on a Sunday morning when I just want to lay around and digest the banana bread french toast with peanut butter I shouldn’t have made or finished but it’s too late now, can’t escape those delicious calories or that stinging one liner.

It was literally the only thing on TV, I swear. Every other channel was broken.

As I soaked in other peoples’ pseudo-therapy and the wisdom (or results of a Google search for “therapy phrases”) therein, I thought about the way that we here at Mind Meld struggle heroically to keep ourselves from having expectations of people, because they obviously can’t actually be relied upon. Isn’t it always the case that people pleasantly surprise you by doing silly things like “being there” or “telling the truth” or “bringing you breakfast in bed” until your car/dog/grandfather dies and they decide you’re not fun anymore and then vanish and before you can turn around they’re in Aruba getting married to some trick they always insisted was too stupid to breathe consistently without putting sustained thought into it? Oh, just me? Great.

We’ve discovered the key to avoiding situations like that is to choose one of the following options:
1) Completely avoid all people, all the time (ideal, but nearly impossible)
2) Avoid meaningful relationships, cultivate shallow ones like the weeds that they are (one of us is really good at this)
3) Attempt to have meaningful relationships, but refuse to be surprised when they fuck up and instead just bundle them into a mental box put them on a list. (one of us tries to do this and occasionally succeeds).

He gets us.

When in the course of human events it becomes necessary for one person to dissolve the bands which have connected them with another, it is only right that they go on a list.  (Thomas Jefferson, if you’re reading this, I really think you should have said “bonds” not “bands”, it would have worked much better for me, and would have been just as touching and powerful). So Paul and I were eating lunch a couple of weeks ago, and I said “Ugh, he’s on my list. Isn’t he on your list?” Clearly looking for a “Yes, obviously, your judgment is impeccable and we are one in all things”. What I got was a fairly blank stare followed by a “List? Like is he one my shit list? No, I wouldn’t say that.”

A: Well he’s definitely on my shit list.
P: Wow, that’s pretty harsh.
A: What do you mean?
P: I just wouldn’t say that he’s that terrible. I mean yeah, that’s really annoying but I don’t think it warrants shit list.
A: What are you talking about? Do you even know what a shit list is? It’s not like he’s on the blacklist!
P: What is the black list? What are you talking about?
A: It’s like worse than shit list, but not quite “dead to me”. Like McCarthy era, you’ll never work in this town again, but not like FBI hit list.
P: Ok, what are all these lists? What’s the actual hierarchy? I need examples.



A lunch hour and a half later, we came up with Definitive Guide to Categorizing the People In Your Life Who Suck (All of Them), and it only took four categories! For your personal use:

Fallen Out of Favor: This list is reserved for the people in your life who you thought were okay, but have been mildly fucking up lately. The Overzealous Hire, who was a fun, young, breath of fresh air until she started inserting her rock climbing/hot yoga/art gallery trips into every goddamn conversation. Your co-worker who became pen pals with a convicted rapist. Your going-to-the- bar-is-the-extent-of-our-friendship friend who thinks sea otters eat nuts (like almonds! Honestly...).

"We are not amused."

These people have irritated you lately, but give them a few days and they’ll probably be fine. Maybe you just need to spend less time with them. Maybe after your ill conceived and ill timed diet week is over you’ll be less grumpy about their bullshit. But maybe (likely) it’s not on you. Maybe they’re just really shitty, and are going to continue to make their way down to...


The Shit List: This is the list people mean when they say “You’re on my list!” (Did no one else’s mother do this constantly?! How embarrassing for me). These people have moved past Fallen Out of Favor, and have been consistently ruining your day for awhile now. Your roommate who used the rest of your shampoo, and this is after she left ALL of her breakfast dishes just SITTING AGAIN, the fucking dishwasher is RIGHT THERE, and it makes your parents think that your apartment smells terrible and you’re an irresponsible child. And she and her boyfriend had that fight last night that kept you up the night before a final exam, whyyyy did you ever agree to live with her? These are the people whose constant habit of disappointing you is starting to get boring. You start saying “Of course...” in a tired voice. They could recover at some point, clamber their way out of this Shit List Pits and hike through the dense woods of Fallen Out of Favor Forest, managing to ascend the twin peaks of Respect and Love in the elusive Esteem Mountain Range. But more likely they’re working their way into the Valley of...

The Blacklist: These people are never coming back from what they’ve done. Maybe you’ll still speak to them when forced, maybe you even maintain the illusion of an acquaintanceship in the interest of politeness (happens to all of us), you may even forgive. But you will never forget.
Maybe they were supposed to be your best friend and they fucked your love interest. Maybe they just couldn’t promise that they wouldn’t, given the chance.

Maybe they told you that if you convinced your father to confess, he would just be sent to the Wall, but they beheaded him instead.

Regardless, they suck. They’re never allowed back in the inner circle, no matter what they do. You can’t trust them, you’ve learned your lesson. Maybe you had to be burned a few times, maybe more like six hundred times, but you’re done. You just keep them at a distance, they’re not like those other people. Those people are...

Dead to Me: I think most reasonable people have at least one person in their lives that deserve this designation. These people killed thirteen puppies in cold blood. They lied to you for months, they cheated on you and then dropped off the stuff you had in their apartment with a pair of the new girl’s panties wrapped around your toothbrush, as if you would have ever used it again anyway. You’re not necessarily out to murder them, but you wouldn’t save them at even a minor inconvenience to yourself. In fact, you might go out of your way to NOT save them. Your family and friends know better than to mention their name in your presence, because they fucked up HARD. You’ll never speak to them, you’ll never acknowledge them, they’re dead to you.

There’s your weekly window into my head! Feel free to vent if you’ve got anyone along the spectrum that’s killing you lately, and if anyone wants to develop a Levels of Anya’s Regard boardgame with the pits/forest/mountains, I’m totally interested.

-Anya