Facebook is a social staple. As much a force of habit as changing one’s underwear, it has made “friend” a verb, and has given birth to a whole new realm of cyber celebrity.

We live in a world of “me,” where on a scale of social acceptance, narcissism may as well be equivalent to having cats. Facebook serves as a personal profile, an outlet for every user to serve themself on a platter, and to hold the onions.

Some see Facebook as a passing fad, interchangeable with pogs or piercings. It’s all a matter of when “the book” and all its shimmer will glimmer and fade into the silly musings of our youthful days.

My older sibling along with countless other college graduates have long since lost interest in the social networking site, casting it off only for random checks when feeling wistful, reminiscent or simply in need of a good stalk. This may be the fate of our Faces as well, but maybe not.

Like a drug, Facebook begs the question: What makes us use? A cultural conundrum that will undoubtedly be discussed in years to come, the site satisfies the need of the nosey, the name-dropping and the needy. This could be seen as insulting, though anyone with a little common sense and humility would admit these qualities are – at least in part – human nature. Who doesn’t want to know what’s going on around them? Even nuns name names.

In a society so in tune with instant answers and easy internet, the real question is, why wouldn’t Facebook be held in high regard? With a simple event invite, it can be known who will, won’t, or might be at the Thirsty Penguin on this Friday or that Saturday, who they’ll be coming with, when everyone’s getting there, what should be brought and the level of fun to be expected.

Who needs a date book? Hell, who needs a date?

The funny thing is, a lot of users are just lazy everyday people who’d rather sit behind a bright screen than go out and carry on real conversations. Drop the f and the ok, add a couple letters and you’ve got placebo. Swallow that, and fool yourself into feeling like you’ve interacted with enough real live people in one day to fill your social quota. If anything, it’s a loophole in the good old-fashioned silent treatment, and Facebook has perfected it.

For our generation, Facebook has become a way of life. Like a common law, it has created a whole new book of etiquette for our text-messaging, video-chatting, “g2g”-ing, “lol”-ing crop. Wall posts constitute more analysis than a Shakespeare lit class, photo tags spark dining hall discussions far longer than it takes to digest a meal, and private messages are like second dates.

And poking? As taboo as tattoos.

The light blue Facebook silhouette is as well known as our president, and (arguably) far more respected. “A social utility that connects you with the people around you,” it is the self-satisfier of social life.

So what’s the future for Facebook? Where do we take our 1,247 pictures and 922 friends from here? With so many users in one generation, it is inevitable that the heart we put in our pages will beat far longer than our college years. Sure, people will get busy. They’ll taste success, flop careers, start families, move on, but it is likely that their Facebooks will evolve with the days of their lives.

The gossip, rumors, and scandals of the book may die down, the daily checks and updates may too, but the membership will remain. Facebook will become a social directory, a way to keep in touch like e-mail and a way to check in, like a twenty-four seven high school reunion. Those who used Facebook before us were merely guinea pigs spinning wheels towards the success our generation has given the site. It only makes sense for their loyalty to die out; they were the substitute teachers, taking roll and beginning class, waiting for our late arrival. We are the ones who show up every day, who devote our time, our lives, even, as the familiar face.

Solmaaz Yazdiha is a Collegian columnist. She can be reached at [email protected]