Fellow Boomer Feminists, What Have We Created?

What we've created, ladies, is an entire generation of Frankengrrrrrrrls. Yes, you read that right: Frankengrrrrrls. What I'm referring to is the wholesale slaughter of normal, female friendships by our "self-actualized", twenty-something daughters and their pathological need to SHOW THE WORLD JUST HOW DEEP AND MEANINGFUL THEIR FEELINGS ARE and as a subtext to that, JUST HOW IMPORTANT THEIR GIRLFRIENDS ARE TO THE CREATION OF THOSE DEEP, MEANINGFUL FEELINGS! I know what you're thinking: ABIB how sexist of you; why single out young women? My answer is that in my observation this is pretty much exclusively a girl thing that I'm about to rant about. Just sayin'. So, having said that, anyone who is on Facebook and has anyone in their friends list who is female and under the age of 28, when they appear to blessedly begin to age out of the phase, knows what I'm talking about. To wit:

Kaitlyn Rogers
I would crumble and disintegrate under the weight of the world but Alexandra you make me be able to be the kind of person I always dreamed of and I don't know what I would do if you were not in my life.

Alexandra Wilson
Awwwwwwwwwww...love you!!

OK, so after I cleaned up the puke I gagged out at this shameless display of overwrought fawning, fake "love" (should we call it flove?), I saw to my horror that eight, that is EIGHT fucking people gave it the little Facebook thumbs-up. We likey! WHAT THE FUCK? Who are these people and what is wrong with them? And before someone suggests that perhaps the status update was actually a message from one partner to another, let me just say that each of the girls upon whom these pseudonyms is based has a male significant other so its not a couple. I'm all about the gays, and this is NOT a gay thang. So, back to the purple prose declaration of devotion: first of all, nobody and I mean NOBODY actually has those feelings. EVER. Second of all, where did these little bitches get the idea that people actually give a crap that they're apparently sharing the most pure and ideal of all friendships? I mean, what's the deal with the almost fetishistic need of these young women to have others publicly witness and acknowledge the earth-spinning depth of their devotion to one another? I see it literally every day on Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr and probably Pinterest but I'm not a member of that little world-within-a-world and, friends, if I ever "Pin" to something, please alert my family that I've lost it. So, here I am daily bombarded with the literal definition of fake feelings and I find myself wondering just how these little empty-headed ninnies got this way. That's when I realized: US! Their mothers and aunts and cousins and dentist office Ms. Magazines and all the other well-meaning older women in their lives have successfully crammed their skulls full of the critical importance of women respecting and valuing each other. Then the little Frankengrrrrls went all Emeril on our asses: they took it up a notch. I mean, when I was younger it was considered a hostile act of aggression to cancel plans with a girlfriend to, say, go out on a date with a guy. It was clear to all of us from where that thinking arose: our mothers had spent too much of their lives in competition with their "sisters" for attention and validation from men. We boomers were more enlightened, we knew the power, the value, the ESSENTIAL NATURE of female bonds. Uh, yeah; well, guess what? Our little girls got born into that self-aware world and they listened. They really, really listened.

Fast forward to now: they're 16, 18, 25 year old girls who've grown up knowing that female relationships should be founded in loyalty, cooperation and the glow of the shared struggle and that expressing the daily realization of that is what makes life worth living. Add to that the Gen Y need to be seen and acknowledged BY EVERYONE ON EARTH and add to that the somewhat natural state of young women this age to be very, very drahmahtic about EVERYTHING, and finally add to THAT the 24/7 public floor show that is the Internet. Shake well and allow to leaven and what do you get? Thank heaven for little girls WHO NEVER, EVER FUCKING SHUT UP ABOUT WHAT THEY'RE DOING, FEELING, and THINKING. To quote them: O.M.G.

Who are all these little drama queens who need that continuous, electronic stroking to validate their existence? They went shopping, we get to see an entire gallery of the Old Navy drek they brought home. They went out to eat: we get to see an entire gallery of the food they're about to chew, swallow and eventually crap out. They're out with friends: we get to see an entire gallery of their drunk asses posing for everyone's cell phone camera. And just in case we forget for a nanosecond who the fuck they are they're tagged in every. single. last. picture. Fellow boomers we've raised an entire generation of desperate exhibitionists who have the world at their 1024X768-resolutioned screens. Unless they're in HD; even better. Yay.

So what do we do? ABIB, you say, this is not a problem, this is simply a manifestation of our culture evolving, an expression of how youth molds and is molded by it's environment, get with the new, let go of the old, quit bitching already. And my answer to that is: uh, no. Do I need to remind you that "bitch" is in my name?

In the movie "The Truman Show" Jim Carrey stars as a man who has unwittingly spent his entire life as the star of a reality show that has followed him since birth. In the pivotal scene near the end of the film, as Truman is coming to realize exactly what his life has been about there is an exchange between him and Cristof, the man who has produced the show since it's first airing.

Truman: (addressing an unseen Cristof who is off screen in the show's control room): Who are you?
Cristof: I am the Creator - of a television show that gives hope and joy and inspiration to millions.
Truman: Then who am I?
Cristof: You're the star.

Maybe all these girls want to hear is their Cristof telling them: You're the star. Well, guess what? WE are their Cristof and we didn't even interview for the job. Thumbs up if you like this.