So when I received an invitation to join a "Class of 99 Reunion" group, I ignored it. Mostly because I'm not really the reunion type: high school was not really an experience I feel the need to relive, especially in a crappy hotel ballroom in my hometown. But also, because the entire point of a reunion, to catch up with long-lost friends and find out what happened to So-and-So who used to eat his own hair during Biology class has been rendered a bit unnecessary, thanks to Facebook itself.

Almost every person I know has a Facebook account; it's hard to lose track of people, when they are constantly posting about themselves on a daily basis. I've actually locked my profile down, because I'm not really comfortable with getting friend requests from random high school people who are clearly in the biz of either "collecting" friends or using Facebook as a means to facilitate their own personal high school reunions, collecting random gossip and information about long-lost strangers (though I totally understand how fun that can be.)

However, there are a few people that I've connected with on Facebook for these reasons: curiosity has led us to find each other: we want to know what our second grade friends look like, if they have kids, if they ever came out or became a doctor like they said they would, or if they're still dating that jackass from Junior year. The point is this: the people you really want to connect with, you can, without having to travel back home for some giant event where everyone puts on their best clothes and prepares the story of their last 10 years. Facebook provides us with that facade as well: you only see what your former classmates want you to see: their best pictures, their carefully selected favorites, a vision of their lives that seems exciting and fun and perfect.

The invitation to my Class of '99 group is still sitting there; I haven't accepted or rejected it yet. I most likely won't end up going to the real thing anyway, and not just because a night of dancing to "Party Like It's 1999" and watching Drunky McFootball star cry over his glory days doesn't sound like my idea of a good time, but because I feel like our reunion has already taken place, and continues to take place, as we connect with each other not in some stuffy room in our hometown, but from wherever life has taken us in the past 10 years: we may not be the same people we once were, but the wackiness of the internet has allowed us to keep up with who we've become and who we still wish to be.

My mother loves the computer. She is obsessed with emails, particularly forwards telling me about the dangers of lemons, the truth about credit card scams, and how we can all find hope in the poetry of a dying child. She and I communicate mainly through AOL Instant Messenger, as both of us are somewhat phone phobic and prefer the safety of keyboards and emoticons. So I wasn't terribly surprised when she asked me about setting up a Facebook account.

"It just sounds like a lot of fun," my mother said, "Do you think I should sign up?"

My immediate reaction was OMG NO WAY NEVER, which I was going to convey to my mother in gentler terms, until she followed up with this, "It would be fun to keep up with you and your sister. But I don't want to look like I'm trying to be young or hip."

Sometimes, you get the kick in the face that reminds you that your parents, in fact, are human beings with lives of their own. All my mother wanted was to connect with old friends, keep up with her daughters, and send little dumb Christmas trees to her nieces and nephews. And yet the 15-year-old in me wanted to keep her from doing so, as if social networking is something that only young people can do, and lame old parents should just stay away from the universe and keep on using their antiquated land-line telephones.

Apparently, many people feel the same way: Alexa Davis of ABC News reports that "the Facebook group entitled 'For the love of god — don't let parents join Facebook' has 5,819 high school and college-aged members who want to stop the growing number of parents who are joining Facebook, the massively popular social networking site, from 'spying' on them." Russell Taylor, a college sophomore, admits that he rejected his mother's friend request, saying, "I don't want my mom commenting on my pictures. That would be weird."

Jeanne Sager at Strollerderby, however, thinks that parents and kids don't necessarily need to co-exist in the Facebook universe. In fact, Sager claims that parents might be better off denying their children's friend requests: "There's Facebook for kids. Then there's Facebook for the rest of us. (or Myspace or Twitter . . . or whatever social media you kids are using these days). Those of us who have opted for a "private" page, wherein we allow only those we've "confirmed" to see status updates and goofy pictures, have done so to keep out anyone who would judge what we have to say on there. For smart folks, that includes their bosses. For parents, it can also include their kids."

In other words, in the same way that you don't want your Mom reading about your drunken shenanigans online, your Mother may just want to keep you away from her personal life, as well. "I'm a fully-grown, responsible adult and mother," Sager says, "OK, according to my mortgage coupon book, I am. According to Facebook, where I just wrapped up a discussion with a friend about Pillow Pants, the vagina troll (Clerks ringing a bell for you Kevin Smith fans?), well. . . you be the judge. What my kid doesn't know won't hurt her."

As for my mother and I, we're currently Facebook friends. There are certain parts of my profile that are locked down so she can't see them; not because there's anything truly scandalous there, but because sometimes, as much as you love your parents, you just need to put up a wall to maintain your own sanity. And also, Mom, stop sending me Little Green Patches or whatever the hell they're called. I love you, but you're driving me insane.

Friended By Mom And Dad On Facebook [ABCNews]
Kid Won't Friend You On Facebook? Get A Life [Strollerderby]
Earlier: Grownups Of This World, Just Get Off Facebook Already

Facebook friending is awkward enough already: every so often, you get that random request from a person you went to school with many years ago, who suddenly wants to know what you're up to. It is through these kinds of online reunions that you learn that Suzy Whatsadoodle, your best friend from 7th grade, now has 8 kids, and she married Kevin AwesomeMcCar, who has moved on from his days as a paste-eater to become the vice president of a fairly respected company. Suzy Whatsadoodle-AwesomeMcCar sends you online plants and online candy canes, shows you pictures of her adorable children, and is generally a non-threatening blast from the past who just seems like a sweet person who really means no harm.

And then, the second after Barack Obama is elected President of the United States, you see this:

Suzy Whatsadoodle-AwesomeMcCar thinks she better hide her paycheck before our new Socialist leader comes to steal it from her. 2 min ago

Suzy Whatsadoodle-AwesomeMcCar hopes the babykillers of the world are happy. God is the ultimate leader, and he doesn't make mistakes, unlike the American people. 13 min ago

Your instant reaction is this: Aroo!? WTF, Suzy Whatsadoodle-AwesomeMcCar?! De-friend! Click!

But then something else hits you: the anger in her messages and the vitriol in her words must sound, to you, exactly like your anti-Palin/anti-McCain rants sound to her. And yet, she still sends you pictures of her kids, asks you about your job and how your mom is doing, and hopes to see you at Thanksgiving. And so the question becomes: does the political outweigh the personal? Do you owe anyone a friendship if their views run so opposite to yours?

Personally, I only have two very conservative friends, and they have posted status updates that aren't nearly as disturbing as the ones that some of my friends have come across. As we learned from our own commenters in this thread, racist rants, homophobic celebrations, and downright dirty accusations have all popped up on Facebook, causing family members to delete other family members, old friends to dismiss other friends, and acquaintances to reconsider who they allow into their online lives.

Facebook is designed to recreate the social experience online; and yet even though we can choose who has access to our profiles, our opinions, and basically, our lives, just like in the real world, we often find out things about people that we did not expect or want to see. So how are you handling the status update madness? Have you defriended anyone? Had any discussions with "friends" who have posted nasty notes? Or are you just avoiding the Suzy Whatsadoodle-AwesomeMcCars of the world and looking ahead to better days?

Earlier: Ms. Manners: How To Talk To A McCain Voter Without Gloating