OK, first go to the box on the left-hand side of their page, under their revealing profile picture and clever tagline. Then click “Add to Friends.”
That’s your part, but it’s not over yet. They still have to approve your friend request. But once they do you are so in, bro.
What’s that? Oh, you’re not talking about MySpace? Oh. Yeah, you’re right. MySpace is so played out. I haven’t checked my page in a dog’s age anyway. My bad.
So, to make friends, you go to the search bar, type in ‘”Eastern Washington University,” and click the upper tab “People” to narrow your search.
Once you find someone rad, click the “Add as Friend” link off to the right of their profile picture. To accurately tell if someone is rad, check their profile picture to see if someone has an arm around them. Yes? Good. I wouldn’t want to half-hug a non-rad person, would you? No. Case closed. Rad equals add, so add that friend.
Huh? You’re not talking about Facebook either? Oh, I guess I totally misunderstood the goal here. I thought we were talking about making friends in college.
Oh, you mean actual people? I see. You’re talking about post-cyber flesh-ships.
It’s way old-school to use the word “friend” to refer to anything other than the relationships fostered by Tom. Not old-school in a throwback-jersey-and-retro-Air-Force-Ones sort of way. I’m talking dated. So please, use the proper nomenclature of the day, and now I’ll tell you how to pursue the world of post-cyber flesh-ships in college.
First, don’t do anything you read about in college guides. Honestly, nobody responds well to the guy who knocks on their dorm door and says, “So. What’s up? Did you… um, want to go to the Tanakawaka Commons and grab a Chai?”
Get serious bro, and also learn the proper name of this historic campus landmark. It’s Tawanka Commons, and there’s more EWU nostalgia in one smoothie there than your entire college experience will provide. Seriously.
If you really want to pursue post-cyber flesh-ships in an authentic way, just trust me: You have to take your time. Especially on your hair and face.
If you don’t have a mysterious amount of tousled bangs obscuring one eye at all times, then forget it.
If you’re a girl, your eye makeup should weigh more than the cream cheese you put on your bagel. It’s just a rule of thumb. Don’t laugh, fellas; guyliner is a real thing and no one has to know. Make those eyes pop, everyone.
It might be helpful to think of your face as your own personal fleshy profile picture. It’s the image you’re putting out there to the world, asking them to click on you. By “the world,” of course, I mean Cheney. And by “click on you,” I mean “approach you and give you a disinterested chin-nod.” Can you imagine: A stranger-peer acting annoyed and snarly in your general direction? This is the first step in a great college relationship.
While spending time with the person who finally gives you that disdainful, reluctant attention, try one of many activities together.
IM-ing, for one. Even in the same room or public space.
If the world sees you both clacking away on your respective laptops, they won’t know you’re having an engaging conversation about, say, which bands have sold out that particular afternoon.
The screens guard you from putting yourself verbally out there, thus protecting the image of fierceness you’ve been showing on your fleshy profile pic, and preserving the possibility of future post-cyber flesh-ships.
Just as you do on social networking sites, you’ll want to rack up as many flesh-ships as you can, with relational depth being a (distant) second priority.
So, your public interactions are not really between you and your companion. They are between you and everyone in Tawanka: how is this public association with Person X affecting your overall profile?
We live in a cold, hard, mostly virtual world, and these concepts will help make your college experience warmer.
I’m talking about real, friendly warmth. Like, warmer than your laptop-covered thighs after a four-hour sesh of tagging yourself in Facebook photos.
This sort of warmth is what we’re striving for, people. Oh, I’m sorry, not “people,” I meant “flesh-sites.” I think that’s the right term now.