It is completely normal and reasonable to social media stalk a little, right?   I am sure that there must be evolutionary reasons for human nature nosiness, like that early humans needed to know if a hunter was cheating on a gatherer, so that they could be prepared for the inevitable dip of hunting and gathering for the rest of the tribe when the shit hit the fan.

There are upsides and downsides.  The upsides include that it’s fun, mostly harmless, and a great way (especially if you live abroad) to keep tabs on people you care about just enough to be interested if it looks like they are moving out of the home they shared with the father of their kids, but not enough to regularly email or chat to them.  Downsides include infuriatingly cryptic statuses (seriously, I think that Facebook should instantly delete the accounts of people who post, “just when I thought I could have faith in people again…” and don’t elaborate, on account of the pain and suffering it causes to other users).  The main downside, however, is that you often stumble across snippets of stuff you were better off never knowing.

Take the infamous Friday night when Hockey Girl and ABBA Girl blew me off.  If I just hadn’t heard from them, I would have been pissed but maybe assumed one of them had to work late and the whole thing got canceled, but because I actually had to see a photo of the two of them yukking it up in a bar without me, it was so much more real.

Or take this morning.  I was happily scrolling through my newsfeed, mildly wondering why my old high school class seem intent on single-handedly doubling the population of California with their astonishing rate of reproduction.  On a brief sidenote, can I just say how pissed I would be, if I was all knocked up and exhausted, puking my guts out every morning and my boyfriend was posting. “WE’RE pregnant!”?  I’d be like, no, dude.  Unless you are down here hugging this toilet bowl with me, you are freaking well not pregnant.

Just as I was grouching about that to myself, it popped up.  ABBA Girl was tagged in a photo, with her arms wrapped around… “Jenny”.  Even though I am genuinely feeling chilled and over all that, my heart gave a little somersault at actually seeing her.  I clicked on the picture, of course I did, you think I’m super human?

She’s beautiful, let’s just get that out of the way right off.   Stunningly, flawlessly, Swedishly, beautiful.  In fact, she is almost comically, stereotypically, unbelievably, the worst nightmare ex girlfriend.  I guess that surprises no one, right?

I clicked on her profile – of course I did, you think I’m super human? – and though it was one of those annoying über locked down ones, I could see the photos she is tagged in with our mutual friends, and there were lots with ABBA Girl, and a handful with Hockey Girl and Asterix.  None with the Viking.  I guess it’s pretty normal after a break up, especially if it was bad, to untag your ex in all your photos, but you’d think she (or he, I guess) might have missed one or two of them together – but not-a-one.

One of the things I’m not especially insecure about is looks (though I’m the first to admit I’m a neurotic mess about other things 😉 ).  Presumably because of my Grandma’s influence: as an early feminist she drummed it into me that physical looks do not have bearing on a person’s worth whatsoever, so while I might kid around about feeling like a squat troll in a land of human Barbies (and Kens), truly it’s something I just note in passing and move on.

So it’s simply an observation that, not only is she gorgeous to start with, she seems to be a professional-blow-dry-every-day kind of gal.  A more makeup than clothes, kind of gal.  I guess I just can’t see my Viking fitting into her world.  He’s hot, as I ‘ve said, but is rarely out of his uniform of jeans, a plain T shirt or soccer top, and Converse sneakers.  Okay, they’re skinny jeans, he can’t help being Swedish, but he’s goofy and stubbly and drinks huge beers and giggles about stupid stuff.

While I don’t – and will never probably – know exactly why they broke up, I guess I can see one theory for why it didn’t last, so I’ll take it as reassuring… and step away from the Facebook 😉