In an ever-evolving technological space and as our adoption and proliferation of new social networking media increases, so does confusion over what the correct terms of practice and engagement should be. Decades ago, the Emily Posts and Amy Vanderbilts of this world would have never suspected that correspondence would move into the digital realm the way it has to become our principal means of communication and interaction with one another. Long since gone to the big bridal buffet in the sky, good old Em and Ames can’t help us now, but that’s where your Agony Uncle comes to the plate by responding to some of your topical questions about that dreaded virtual book.

Access denied

My mother has just invited me as a friend on Facebook. I don’t want her snooping around my profile or seeing my photos as it would feel like I was a teenager living at home again. What do I do? Do I just choose ‘ignore’, and if she asks me, what do I tell her?

Peta Pan, Neverland

Social networking sites have a lot to answer for concerning the bastardisation of the term, ‘friend’. Though I might disagree somewhat with the adage, I was always raised to believe that you can count your true friends on one or two hands and all the rest are merely acquaintances. I prefer to include other body parts in the friend count (I’ll let you guess which ones), but I can understand the sentiment. The friend/acquaintance/nightclub encounter/old flame/person from the past who you would prefer to keep that way/stalker request and the way you respond to it has great potential to cause offence, division and outright hatred; however, you should remember that you are the one who has final say with whom you interact on your Facebook profile. Though you might have tenuous link with someone, say, your mother; giving them full access to your profile is like inviting a stranger in from the street and saying, “Please rifle through my underwear drawer and medicine cabinet, feel free to help yourself to any anti-depressants you might find, oh, and would you mind pouring me a scotch when you raid the liquor stash?”

Become acquainted with the privacy settings and what content they allow you to censor and start segregating your friends list like an overzealous team captain. Parents, friends’ parents and the conservative in general should be lumped together, limiting status updates, photos and anything particularly incriminating ie. everything. Those you’ve met only a handful of times, online or those whose request you have accepted out of politeness belong in a category of their own, by blocking personal information such as current and previous employment, e-mail addresses and IM accounts. Those who remain are free to experience your unabashed cursing, drinking, smoking and general debauchery from the comfort of their office chair. Now, wasn’t that easy?

Some points to remember:

- Carefully consider who you add before accepting their friend request. If you don’t like them in real life, why pretend on the internet?

- Don’t be afraid to block serial offenders – if they’re up to their third friend request and you’ve ignored the previous two, it’s time to relegate them to Facebook Hades.

- Create another more G-rated and parent-friendly profile using a separate e-mail account. It’s a great place to stash colleagues and family members to prevent them from witnessing your licentious lifestyle.

And here it is so beautifully illustrated by this clip from The Onion:

Too much information

I have a friend who updates their Facebook status far more often than most, which is of course fine if you have a penchant for a pun, a revealing reference to share or just plain something to say. However, no, this person is righteously dull. Even worse, said person’s friends have an equally tiresome tendency to reply. Twenty-seven responses to a vegan muffin update? Twenty-seven I tell you! The real problem is obvious; I have an abject obsession with the mundane updates. I both loathe and desire them. Help me.

Update Junkie, Provence

Facebook lends itself to an unrestrained forum for both exhibitionism and voyeurism. How much a user wishes to participate in the masturbine of blatant self-promotion is entirely up to the individual, contributing as much or as little to the orgy of self-aggrandisement. Most of us who have used the site have been guilty of self-indulgent over-shares, some more so than others. When someone reports of a startlingly large weekend in their status update, it’s concerning if not amusing. News of a recent sexual conquest might be déclassé but it sure is entertaining and general soapbox venting can be both inflammatory and informative. What disappointment ensues when the less imaginative amongst us opts for the perfunctory and tells us they’ve just washed their hair or worse, eaten a vegan muffin. Being a vegan is the last thing I would admit to in such a public platform, particularly when you have red meat-eating, fur-wearing, leather-clad, fox-hunting friends like mine. As for washing one’s hair, if it were not the hair on your head you were referring to, perhaps I would be more interested. Vote with your mouse: banish them to the catacombs of the banal by clicking the ‘hide’ button. Life is far more compelling without the dull-witted.

What goes on tour …

My mother always said you shouldn’t be photographed with a drink or cigarette in your hand: it cheapens your image on the permanent public record. The same can be said for the crackpipe, the rolled-up $100-dollar bill and the bong. Look at what it (allegedly) did to Kate Moss, Michael Phelps and more recently, Kerry Katona’s careers. It might seem frivolous now, but when you’re running for the Senate, incriminating images always have a way of resurfacing.

Think of it like this: should you suddenly be abducted, which images are The Sun going to run first? Surely they’d pick the ones of you looking glamorous (and airbrushed), languishing on a bearskin rug? Wrong. Expect to see photographs purloined from your profile of you looking at your worst: eyes in the back of your head; father/mother of your future illegitimate child draped across you scantily while you’re hosting an illegal cockfight. Avoid the London look and make sure you’re milk carton-ready: untag images where required; and request that anything particularly unflattering is removed and stricken from the record permanently.

Some handy hints

- Breaking up is never easy, so why make it harder by broadcasting it? If you must change your relationship status, change your publishing settings so that you won’t find your newly-single status advertising to your contacts that you’re back in business. Kate Price excluded.

- Never rely on the RSVP in an event for accuracy. With the glut of invitations to zombie and vampire wars, virtual farming and Myers-Briggs personality testing (we get it, your feeling, judging, painful and annoying!), don’t expect that your event invitation is going to get through. Create the event for the more technolgically-savvy and follow-up with an old-fashioned e-mail invitation, or even a ye olde-fashioned invitation in the post. Doing so will ensure that you’re entertaining a room full of people and not just your imaginary friend,  Milko.

- Keep your profile picture sanitary. Sure you might have an ample bust that could have your eye out if you stand up too quickly. Perhaps you fill your trousers twice or thrice over. Good for you! Don’t forget that future employers trawl your page when recruiting so unless you’re applying for a job in the adult film industry, put it away, moonbeam.

I do believe there’s more for you to read: