A couple of years ago, one of my friends announced that she was leaving Facebook. She had creeped herself out by how far deep into stalking people she'd allow herself to get. You know the feeling -- when you fall into a trance clicking on one person's picture, another person's name, someone else's location, and all of a sudden, you find yourself looking at a mobile uploads album of a total stranger. Who is this person? You only have one mutual friend, who you probably haven't seen since high school nor spoken to since middle school.
I don't fall into Facebook trances so much anymore as I do Instagram ones. On a related note, one of my biggest fears is double-tapping an Instagram picture posted by a guy I like but don't follow. Omg. So bad.
Recently, actually not that recently -- I've been doing it for ages, I've gotten into the habit of what a meme I once saw but can't find anymore called "falling eight people deep" on Instagram. First I'm looking at some girl I barely know's vacation in Palm Beach, then five minutes later, I'm looking at some Italian socialite's trip to Argentina. Where am I and how did I get here?
I had an odd moment a couple of weeks ago when I was in SoHo and passed someone I recognized. Where had I seen her before? It took me a minute before I had the sad realization that I recognized her from Instagram. I follow her but have have never met her. She's not an influential likes-are-a-currency blogger; she's just some French person who isn't a socialite but isn't a normal person either. I've seen pictures of her family's Christmas vacation to the Alps. I KNOW WHAT HER MOM LOOKS LIKE. Is the problem me, or am I just a victim of the social media world? I was creeped out but not enough to stop following her because she's a good Instagrammer in the sense that she makes her life look cool, and isn't that the point?
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