Facebook: our own personal brag book?

I was reading the Vancouver Sun this morning in my favourite local coffee shop (The Laughing Bean, it's awesome) - and stumbled across an article on Facebook. I found this metaphor humorous... and very true:

[on comparing Facebook to our mothers]
"There it is, monitoring our every move, always watching over our shoulder and puttering around the edges of our personal space, trying to improve us with yoga and nutritional supplements, telling us where to shop and eat and play, always wanting to change our look and always, always introducing us to new friends we don't always want to know, much less date.
"Even when it's off, it's on, working away in the shadows, moulding our profiles and, like a yenta on a matchmaking mission, constantly nagging. Join this. Like this. Post this. Link to that. It's a Nosy Parker, disrespectful of privacy and barging into our rooms without knocking.
"Like our moms, Facebook knows too much about us, and shares too much of our privacy with perfect strangers. It's one thing to voluntarily be an open book, the architect of our personal brag books, but it's another to have your mother in charge of marketing and distribution, to have your photos of the family reunion instant fodder for target advertising."

Maybe I would have agreed with this mother-Facebook metaphor when I was 15, but now I just find it hilarious.

What stuck out to me is this: "It's one thing to voluntarily be an open book, the architect of our personal brag books..."

Brag books. WHOA. Again, a total conviction of something that's been festering in my heart for a number of weeks now. How we (I) only post our accomplishments, attainments, perfectly instagrammed photos, to what? Prove that we're cool human beings? That only great things happen in our lives? That we're worthy human beings because we got a new couch, are on the front of a magazine or the sun is shining in Vancouver (just scrolling through my last few days' worth of posts).

I'm convicted, I'm guilty, and I'm addicted. Addicted to only showing the great.

So let's be honest.
Also this week?
I was a crappy wife.
My house got filthy and I didn't clean it.
I'm sometimes unmotivated and do things just at face value.
I prefer to have days off than to work... often. (Lazy!)
I'm terribly undisciplined when it comes to prioritizing things like sitting and being still with God.
I got disappointed with people. Then I realized I am disappointed in myself, that we're all sucky humans, and then I stop judging people and am thankful for grace for my (and their) sucky-ness.

Yet all you saw was a sweet couch, my bike commute to work and Vancouver sunshine (which was 1/7 days this week probably). Blegh.

So, all that said... I don't know what to do about this.
Is social media somewhere where we only share the good stuff? And the real/crappy stuff is reserved for the close-real-life people in our lives?
Is Facebook a facade for convincing others (and ourselves?) that we have everything together? ...which would be reinforcing a lie because we sooooo do not.
Is Face[brag]book a breeding ground for pride?

Maybe this is just a weakness for me.
Maybe it's not bad to post things and share the little gifts and joys in your life, from the new couch to the sunny weather to the urban bike ride.
Maybe I need to check my motives every. single. time I post anything.