When in doubt, dither

I never got around to reading Proust, dammit. This morning I pulled a muscle getting out of the shower. Now I can't remember why I came into the den. And here's my Facebook news feed, where Mike from college has just run another marathon, Deb has posted pictures from Hawaii, and my son Alex—who agreed to be my "friend"—has set up some kind of privacy wall.

Feeling mired, tired, uninspired? You're on Facebook because everyone says you have to be—because, heck, your mom is on Facebook—but you'd prefer to make the minimal effort. Here are a few rules I've worked out, offered in the spirit of all Web expertise: anybody can say anything and you're free to sort it out for yourself, or not.

How do I get "friends"? Wait for them to come to you. Don't worry, they will, from deep in a past you thought you'd managed to forget. (If this doesn't happen, I'm afraid it means that while you may have had a past, you didn't have a life.)

What kind of profile picture should I post? Use something blurry and cryptic. That will give you instant cachet, and your high school classmates won't be able to see that you now look just like your father.

Should I accept a friend request from Margie Driscotti-Bellum, whom I don't recognize but who may have gone to high school with me, because she's Facebook friends with people I do recognize (or maybe they didn't know her either, but just blindly accepted her as a friend), and I'm intrigued because she looks happy, successful, and attractive? The best thing to do is pretend you're too busy, but keep an eye on what she posts to your friends' sites. This is the high-school equivalent of playing hard-to-get while leaving yourself an out, or maybe it's an in.

Which privacy settings should I choose? If, in your heart of hearts, you know you're past your prime, "reputation management" isn't an issue, so don't bother with this stuff, which seems too complicated anyway.

Is it impolite to ignore my Facebook friends' invitations to sign petitions, join activist groups, and give money to causes? Ask yourself whether you feel obligated to open, read, and respond to all your junk mail.

After I've finally accepted Margie Driscotti-Bellum as a friend, do I have to respond to the countless comments she posts on my wall? Yes, at the beginning. Then quickly let your responses taper off to verbal nods that give the impression you're paying attention, then don't bother. The implication is that you're too busy.

Should I "friend" my boss? Why ask for trouble? And if your boss wants to friend you, the best course of action is to dither. (Maybe he'll think you're too busy.)

Margie has just messaged me to say she'll be in town next weekend and maybe we can get together. What should I do? This would be a good time to erase everything from your Facebook page and post a dense quote from Proust. (You should do this periodically anyway.) It's a win-win: you avoid her while preserving your dignity.

How can I avoid spending too much time on Facebook? When you feel the urge to go on Facebook, read Proust instead. (Then, when you finally give in and get completely hooked by Facebook, you can post a notice on your wall that says, "Reading Proust.")

—Dan Laskin