WTF, Internet? Facebook thinks it knows me … and it’s so, so wrong

I’m in my mid-twenties and without a doubt the longest relationship I’ve had is with Facebook. Seriously. Zero breakups. What can I say, I’m a commitment kind of girl. I never even threw one of those “I’m quitting Facebook!” fits – not even the kind where you temporarily cancel your account because there’s some sort of huge work or school situation and you’re so weak you can’t make yourself stop looking at your cousin’s vacation pictures or clicking through your crush’s Timeline (do not like that photo from 2007! Do not!) but then you hop back on as soon as you can, like the obsessive little Internet addict you are.

The point is, you’d think after eight long years, Facebook might know a little bit about me. But nooooo. Oh no. Because this is what it thinks I’m interested in.

Yeah, kids are crazy, right? Man, do they get messy. I know this because of my children I have seen a human child before. End of my interactions with children, and my need to keep things clean for them. I can’t think of any time I’ve done any sort of search for cleaning products or anything kid-related. I know this says something about me and I’m OK with that. Also, am I the only one who sort of cringes at the word “healthing”? What the hell is that?

Oh good, more kids-related stuff. Dropping hints, are we? What are you, my mom? Lay off, Facebook. I HAVE PLENTY OF TIME. 

Or this. I guess since I’m a person with a job I do taxes. And we’re nearing April. OK, OK I’ll give you this one Facebook. But it sort of feels like when someone gives you flowers that they got for free anyway that day. “Oh … yeah! Yeah these are for you! This was absolutely planned in advance with you and only you in mind! Enjoy!” Not buying it.

Thanks for reminding me I don’t have a home to keep a to-do list for. I live in a tiny studio apartment. People over 5-foot-10 are not allowed to rent it. I would do some unspeakable things to have a house and say things like “Whew! Man! All the upkeep on this home thing, pretty rough, amiright?” Not the case.

Seriously?! I ALREADY HAVE GEICO. YOU DON’T KNOW ME AT ALL.

Oh good. Roof replacement. Maybe I could fix the Hobbit-level roof of my apartment. Except it’s a basement unit. Fan. Tastic.

I cannot think of anything I could care less about than video monitoring for my nonexistent small business. I’m going to try. No … nope, nothing. I actually don’t think I can care less.

… Uh. I have never searched for or bought flowers online. So I just don’t know.

I barely pay to get my haircut – actually, I don’t. I cut it myself. Seriously. What on earth would make you think I would pay to laser off hair? I can’t think of anything I would be less likely to pay for. Except maybe a new roof. Or flowers with some B.S. rustic charm (which to me, just sounds like “crappy”) vase. Or video surveillance for my small business. Also, “tired of shaving”? How tired do you have to be to be tired of shaving? You must be pretty exhausted. You must have just run marathons. Or maybe you’re a sloth. A ridiculously lazy sloth. Get this noise out of here. 

And here it is. The cream of the crop. An ad for the Dollar Shave Club … which is a monthly subscription for men to try and test new razors. 

Are you kidding me?! Is this because I thought the laser hair removal ad was stupid (I stand by that, but …)? Because the opposite of laser hair removal is not a men’s razor subscription. 

Just go home, Facebook, you’re drunk.