The FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) Badge

This is how it happens to me. I'm bored. I log on to Facebook. I read. I read more. Then, depending on what appears on my wall ... it starts. It begins to creep into my thoughts. It becomes my filter through which I read all updates and view all mobile uploads. It compels me to keep perusing the pages. Finally, it forces me to close my computer. Now, I'm not only bored, I'm lonely, depressed, bitter.

Why are all my friends having more fun than me?

Where are they ... together?

What are they doing ... together?

Why haven't I been invited?

Do I even have any friends?

It is FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) -- "The sharp pang of envy that comes when someone you are following on the social networking site is clearly having a better time than you are — right now." I read about it several months ago in this NY Times article. It so perfectly articulated what I feel almost every time I look at Facebook.

"I'm having such a fun time with all my best friends today at the beach! Yay!"

"I can't wait to hang out with my favorite people tonight and have the most fun ever!"

"I am so excited about all the amazing things I have going with all my friends this weekend. I can't wait."

Mobile Upload: "Night out with the girls!"

What about me? Maybe if I was confident enough, comfortable enough, secure enough these updates wouldn't bother me. I'd be excited for my friends, thankful they have the opportunity to have a great time. While I hate to admit it, I'm just not there yet. FOMO has a hold on me.

Thinking back to high school, I remember my friends talking on Monday mornings about parties they went to or people they hung out with on the weekend. There were always a few inside jokes and some funny stories, but that was about it. The excitement faded by fourth period.

It's different now.

"Social media has made us even more aware of the things we are missing out on," writes Caterina Fake, co-founder of Flickr on her blog. "You’re home alone, but watching your friends status updates tell of a great party happening somewhere. You are aware of more parties than ever before...If you didn’t know that party was going on, you’d be home contentedly reading your latest New Yorker. But since you do, you hungrily watch each new tweet."

I don't just find out about social occasions after the fact. I read about them before, during and after. I see pictures before, during and after. All the while, I'm fully aware (sitting in my pajamas in my living room) that I'm not part of the fun. Ugh. When will that ever feel OK?

So what do I do? Quit my whining. Yeah, a little. Suck it up. OK, fine. Quit Facebook. No, I need it. It's how I organize my social life. Quit Facebook stalking. Maybe that will work. I don't have a solution. All I know is that it's an age-old problem (Hello, Moses and the 10th commandment? "You shall not covet your neighbor's house; you shall not covet your neighbor's wife, nor his male servant, nor his female servant, nor his ox, nor his donkey, nor anything that is your neighbor's."). And it's been wildly exacerbated by our desire to "connect" on the world wide web.

I'm not saying it's wrong to post about friends and festivities. That's what Facebook is all about, right -- "Giving people the power to share and make the world more open and connected?" It's just that this kind of social networking (voyeurism?!) has opened us (I'm speaking for dozens of girlfriends) up to a whole new level/kind of insecurity.

One of my good friends told me that whenever she posts a status, she always has one person in mind who has been through a difficult season of life (by no fault of her own). "I always think, 'How would this make her feel to read it?'" she said. I know I can't take that argument too far -- anything I write could upset anyone for any reason. But I like the sentiment. It's thoughtful and considerate, some quality characteristics that Facebook and its members could use a little more of.

The Kissing and Clapping Badge

Kissing and Clapping. I'm finding more and more that these two seemingly unrelated actions have more in common in my life at the moment than I ever would have thought.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised. After the first time Michael and I kissed -- like really kissed -- I started clapping and jumping up and down in my driveway (in front of him). Yep, I am that 16-year-old girl.

Well, I haven't noticed until recently the K&C combo making a comeback in my life. Don't worry. I haven't taken to locking lips with anyone new. My marriage vows are intact. It's just that I started this new workout class at the Y and I feel compelled to clap in it - a lot. My workout partner, Beth, is always smirking at me when I do it. That's because I'm always the only one. I just can't do a grapevine and not clap. It's the curtsy, the bow -- the finishing touch to the move, you know?

At first I felt embarrassed about my clapping and I kept it to a minimum. But lately I've just started to let loose. It's kind of fun and liberating. I am confident enough to clap and enjoy myself even if no one else does. Now I clap when we step side to side and when we rotate corners (Don't ask! You wouldn't understand unless you're an aspiring step professional like myself.). I've noticed that the more I've been clapping, other people are joining in, too. Beth can't seem to help herself now either. Having fun and not taking yourself too seriously are contagious. I think everyone would clap if they felt comfortable enough.

A few weeks ago I went to a U2 concert -- amazing. There was this lady a few rows ahead of us who was dancing crazy. I saw people pointing at her and laughing. At first I thought she was a weirdo. But the more I watched her, the more I felt like, wow, I want to be free enough to dance like that. I want to be free of any insecurities that would hold me back from fully enjoying myself like she was. I figured deep down everyone in that arena wanted to just let go like her (Michael argued that point and said he had no desire to dance similar to her in any way. Whatev.).

But it's hard, awkward, embarrassing to let it all hang out, right? Who wants to look foolish? I finally did decide to take my cues from the "crazy" lady much to the dismay of my self-conscious brain. I started dancing and screaming and waving my long gangly arms all over the place, too. It was so fun. I felt so free.

Now to the kiss part.

I rank average on the affectionate scale. I love hugs, cuddles and kisses. But I'm not known for that like some of my other friends. (One of my friends Andrea is the best and hardest hugger. She's so small and cute. You would never expect her to dole out these amazing bear hugs. She is from Alaska though. Maybe she was actually instructed by a bear how to be such a great embracer!!) Anyway.

Two of my very best friends, Matt and Laura, moved to Denver in April. It was such a difficult time for me. I seriously wore all black for a good week or two. Nothing else seemed right. While still recovering from the initial shock of their departure, Michael surprised me with a trip to meet up with our friends in Phoenix at a conference. Wahoo!

I was so excited when we finally arrived. I couldn't wait for our reunion. When they finally pulled up at the airport to pick us up, I was so overcome with emotion that I told Laura, "I just have to kiss you ... on the lips." And I did. Normally I would feel so ridiculous about doing something like this. But I felt compelled to.

I'm telling you, it was way better than just a hug. It felt like a more complete and sweet greeting. I walked away feeling like I want to greet everyone that way. The dilemma I face is how to introduce that one to my circle of friends? Do I just start going in for the kiss? I'm not bold enough. Maybe I should start with an air kiss, progress to a cheek kiss, work my way to an eskimo kiss and then move in for the kill. Let me know if you have any thoughts on bringing the lip kiss back. I'm all in.

All this to say, I have decided to start kissing and clapping more. Watch out world. I'm letting loose.