I’ve heard the hype. I’ve heard the good and bad of it. I have even helped “skin” a profile on it.

MySpace.

Being a Web designer, people assume that I not only design and build websites, but that my life revolves entirely around the Web. They seem shocked (and appalled) that I don’t have a MySpace, Facebook, or whatever-the-latest-social-site-is account. Prompted partly by that and partly by curiosity, I took the plunge and got a MySpace account.

Less than a few hours after getting it, I got spammy mail from “friends.” Or at least that’s what they claimed to be. One seemed like an “official welcome” from Tom. Tom, by the way, took the liberty of adding himself as my “friend.” I don’t know Tom. And, Tom if you are reading this, nothing personal, but I will add my own friends should I become so inclined.

I also received one that was nothing short of a shameless promotion for a band, begging not only to be heard, but to be my “friend.”

And Kelly, she wanted someone for a serious relationship. To her credit, I noticed that my profile said I was single. I am not. I suppose that was the default setting, which I should have expected since MySpace seems geared toward those who haven’t finished puberty. At least it defaulted to “straight.”

When I did go on, I felt assaulted by the ads. Not just one or two—but dozens—flashing, blinking, and screaming for attention. This set up will give you A.D.D. for sure.

Anyway, less than 48 hours on MySpace, I pulled the plug and cancelled. I can’t wait for the next person to ask me if I have a MySpace account.

It wasn’t really my space anyway. It was theirs.