Those of you that know me well may be surprised to learn that, for a short time, I was once married to a dude.
Perhaps a little history is in order: in the dark recesses of the beginning–otherwise known as the dawn of the Internet age–there was a site called MySpace, upon which I had a profile. Initially, it was just, you know, my space, but I decided to add my wife–so that, just as in life, we shared a space. In essence, we decided that if we were–as the Bible says–“one flesh” IRL, we should be virtually as well. (Cute, right?)
And it was cool for awhile. We connected with friends, updated our statuses, etc. Got annoyed by all the Mafia Wars messages.
At some point, I heard people at work talking about a Facebook. Being the cool, hip, with it guy that I am, a created a profile there, and promptly did absolutely nothing with it.
It wasn’t too long after this that we noticed two things:
1) Our friends were leaving MySpace for Facebook; and,
2) The aforementioned MySpace was being almost universally derided as the new “booty call.” (Being quite happily married, my wife and I were most definitely not down with the whole FWB scene).
Despite this, we still had friends on there. Or rather, she did. I began building out my Facebook profile, and stopped logging into MySpace altogether. Like life, I invested blood, sweat… er, time in building out my profile, uploading pictures, networking with friends and family.
And what did I hear?
Yes, as with the now “butt end” (MySpace) of the Internet, I added my loving wife to my Facebook profile. The two were again one.
And it was bliss.
For about a year, or so.
Then I began blogging, discovered Twitter, and subsequently linked the two to my profile. I’m sorry–excuse me–our profile.
And therein, ladies and gentlemen, as Hamlet said, lay the rub:
It was no longer just my profile–but ours. Thus my wife asked if perhaps I could setup a separate profile for the goofier things I tended to post (read “links to blog posts, tweets, etc.”). I thought this a reasonable request.
At the time.
If you’re thinking “That Chad just can’t see the forest for the trees,” you’d be absolutely right. I never saw it coming:
She asked me to please extricate myself from her wall. Her wall! She asked me for a “Facebook divorce!”
I was shocked, saddened, angry, but despite my best attempts to reconcile, it wasn’t meant to be:
Despite being married quite happily, it didn’t work out virtually. I skulked off to my own profile, continued posting sense and nonsense.
And I had my revenge!
You see–every time between then and now–that she updated her status, I would get a notice, saying “Lisa Jones” has updated his status. Yes, that’s right, because I had, you know, originally created the profile for me, Facebook thought my wife was a man!
Now, truth be told, I could’ve gone in and fixed this little snafu quite handily, but (to me, at least) it was just too darn funny to do that.
Why ruin a good thing?
Things were humming along swimmingly, I would get my daily chuckle(s)… Until, one day, my wife asked me why my profile didn’t show a relationship status.
In essence, why didn’t it show that we were married? She wanted to know. There were two reasons, I told her:
1) You “Facebook divorced” me; and,
2) I never finished building out my new, solo, profile. I was “Facebook batching” it. And I got caught!
So I did what any loving, responsible husband would do: I sent her a relationship request–call it a “Facebook proposal” if you will. Which, despite the “grief” she gave me, she promptly ignored.
For several months.
I stopped bringing it up. I, as a husband, had done my part. The ball was in her court. Sure, she said for some reason she couldn’t acknowledge the request (now, to be fair, she only gets on Facebook via her iPhone, and maybe there was a glitch there, or something).
I let it go. Until this past weekend:
With her permission, I:
1) Reset her password;
2) Logged into her account; and,
3) Acknowledged the request for her
You know where this is going right? I think I’ve already established that I’m a little slow. In any case, I was quite thrilled that we were again married (despite the grief I’d endured on the road to that wedded bliss). I was quite thrilled for about, oh, say half an hour.
When it finally dawned on me:
Facebook still thought my wife was a dude! Which meant, however virtually, I was now married to a guy!
I gave my wife the fastest gender reassignment surgery in the history of ever! Lisa Jones was no longer male, but female.
And it was good!
That it is my “sordid” tale of a Facebook divorce, and subsequent “gay” remarriage.
What weird things have happened to you in navigating the sometimes murky waters of social media?
(PS Come back tomorrow for the “Last Thing I Ever Expected to Hear at the Hospital”).