Today, I miss blogging.
I miss blogging like I miss school, or university. That is, most of the time it's fine and I don't really think about it but every now and again, a memory will catch me out and then it's a bit sad and a bit wistful and a bit weird. My blog circle is entirely different now, I'm a mere observer most of the time and the tight community that developed early on and joined me through my formative years, well, I don't know where most of them are or what they are doing. Although, I do confess to having searched on social media to varying success.
Sometimes, I spy a pied wagtail and wonder what you're up to. I go to a city you live in and I remember meeting here for the first time, how strange it was. Somebody mentions something, and I find myself thinking of a throwaway comment you made, ages ago, candid advice that somehow has stuck.
I'm doing more; I'm thinking less. I still think too much, y'know. But far less than I used to and I've become better at not listening to the voices that remind me of things I cannot change.
Be patient. Be kind. Be positive. Be happy.
Showing posts with label Internet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Internet. Show all posts
Thursday, 20 April 2017
Monday, 7 November 2016
Finding Fireworks
Eleven years ago, I created an account on an internet forum.
In the midst of MSN spaces, MSN messenger and mySpace, I followed a link on a blog and ended up signing up to a site where comments and conversations were no longer limited to blog posts, but could be continued in discussions and threads. I had no idea how much that place would shape my next few years.
I made friends. Honest, true-to-life friends. I know it’s like, totally normal and cool and hip now to have internet friends, but back then, I was just the weirdo who declined a night out to spend a night in with people I’d never met. When I started university, the forum was my safe haven. There are many negatives of net relationships, but one of the plus points is that they are always there, wherever you are. At a time when everything was changing and everyone I knew was either too far away, or too new to know properly, the forum was there. I just had to log on to a computer to find my friends, to laugh, to moan, to offload and to interact with ease. For a few hours, I didn’t feel so lonely.
As the years went on, the people I’d never seen became more than that. A tight-knit small community of people, varying ages and stages of life, we weren’t brought together by a common interest but somehow, it worked. We shared memories, thoughts and in-jokes. We met up with each other, across the country, once or a few times. We hugged, we chatted, we ate cake and drank tea, coffee, wine. Some of us even dated. I never expected what could come out of simply logging on a forum, once upon a time.
In time, life improved, both socially and work-wise and I didn’t need that internet crutch as much. It was still there and a comfort, like a bowl of warm soup on a cold November night, but I didn’t desperately crave it as much as before. On balance, that’s probably for the best – it makes sense to live your life in the real world, a richer and more satisfying experience overall. But I do miss them and as lame as it sounds, I am so grateful that the forum was there at the time that I needed it most. I would have got by, sure, I would have been okay, either way, but collectively, those forum members helped more than any of them individually can really know.
Eleven years. It has often seemed odd that I’ve known them longer than anyone from university and yet, for a large part, there’s so much detail I don’t know about them. We posted opinions and anecdotes but personal information was limited. With the way the internet is now, I’m sure I could find them if I wanted to, re-connect, engage in a deeper sense, become more involved in each other’s ‘real’ lives, beyond the screen. The question I keep coming back to is – do I want to do that? Do I want them to be real people? Or am I content with the way things were and are, a step removed from reality, keeping a façade to hide behind. Would we even get on if we extended our friendship outside the bounds of the web? With anonymity comes the freedom to say what you like without the direct connection to the outward perception of yourself.
How different is the person you are to people around you, to the person you present on screen?
Flitterbox: Keane ~ Somewhere Only We Know
In the midst of MSN spaces, MSN messenger and mySpace, I followed a link on a blog and ended up signing up to a site where comments and conversations were no longer limited to blog posts, but could be continued in discussions and threads. I had no idea how much that place would shape my next few years.
I made friends. Honest, true-to-life friends. I know it’s like, totally normal and cool and hip now to have internet friends, but back then, I was just the weirdo who declined a night out to spend a night in with people I’d never met. When I started university, the forum was my safe haven. There are many negatives of net relationships, but one of the plus points is that they are always there, wherever you are. At a time when everything was changing and everyone I knew was either too far away, or too new to know properly, the forum was there. I just had to log on to a computer to find my friends, to laugh, to moan, to offload and to interact with ease. For a few hours, I didn’t feel so lonely.
As the years went on, the people I’d never seen became more than that. A tight-knit small community of people, varying ages and stages of life, we weren’t brought together by a common interest but somehow, it worked. We shared memories, thoughts and in-jokes. We met up with each other, across the country, once or a few times. We hugged, we chatted, we ate cake and drank tea, coffee, wine. Some of us even dated. I never expected what could come out of simply logging on a forum, once upon a time.
In time, life improved, both socially and work-wise and I didn’t need that internet crutch as much. It was still there and a comfort, like a bowl of warm soup on a cold November night, but I didn’t desperately crave it as much as before. On balance, that’s probably for the best – it makes sense to live your life in the real world, a richer and more satisfying experience overall. But I do miss them and as lame as it sounds, I am so grateful that the forum was there at the time that I needed it most. I would have got by, sure, I would have been okay, either way, but collectively, those forum members helped more than any of them individually can really know.
Eleven years. It has often seemed odd that I’ve known them longer than anyone from university and yet, for a large part, there’s so much detail I don’t know about them. We posted opinions and anecdotes but personal information was limited. With the way the internet is now, I’m sure I could find them if I wanted to, re-connect, engage in a deeper sense, become more involved in each other’s ‘real’ lives, beyond the screen. The question I keep coming back to is – do I want to do that? Do I want them to be real people? Or am I content with the way things were and are, a step removed from reality, keeping a façade to hide behind. Would we even get on if we extended our friendship outside the bounds of the web? With anonymity comes the freedom to say what you like without the direct connection to the outward perception of yourself.
How different is the person you are to people around you, to the person you present on screen?
Flitterbox: Keane ~ Somewhere Only We Know
Friday, 15 April 2011
Saturday, 11 December 2010
Online Exploration
"Imagine you're exchanging emails with a guy online, and he seems really funny and charismatic and you feel like you click, then you meet up for a date and he speaks like...he has special needs"
A friend on her first foray into internet dating. It's funny, because her account of the date began with this sentence and I can completely relate to the first part of it. I know what it's like to speak to people online who appear witty and chatty and clever...I just haven't had the opportunity to see whether that transpires to reality and whether I would receive the same surprise in person.
Sunday, 18 July 2010
Fiff Birfdee
Tomorrow, I will graduate.
Where will you be in five years' time? Five years ago, I was going all over the country, attending open days for university, looking at what I would study, to where I should apply. Five years ago, I was halfway through A levels: chemistry, maths, physics. I suppose my course was already decided by those choices.
Five years ago, on this day, I started a blog. I'm not quite sure why, really. I suppose I was feeling alone and unloved and looked to the internet to solve that. Did I think that five years later I'd still be here? I don't think I thought that far ahead, to be honest. I still can't. There's people with Careers and Goals and Five Year Plans and I'm stuck with a big fat I Don't Know on my forehead. Some may say it's a waste of four years of a science degree to not go into the field afterwards, or at least have some sort of graduate scheme or further qualification in mind. But, as everyone is aware, university is so much more than the academic side so if that's all you take from it, well you're not doing it right.
Never mind. Tomorrow, I graduate and officially become a Mistress of Chemistry. It sounds so much better than a Spinster of Science, don't you think? It's a wonder they don't use gender-specific degree titles...
Happy 5th Birthday, Flix
On the jukebox: Laura Marling ~ Alas, I Cannot Swim - work more, earn more, live more, have more fun.
Sunday, 11 July 2010
Chapter 2:1
Today, I have been a graduand.
I have the dress. I need the shoes. I have the haircut booked and the gown ordered.
This year has been tough, but also, terrific. The points at which I’ve felt most attractive have frequently combined with the points at which the academic side has suffered the most. I’ve no doubt that those two aspects are somewhat related, but I’m also confident that correlation does not directly imply causation and that many other factors contributed to the scholarly mess and social success that was my final year of university.
Never mind. Next week, I graduate as a Master in Science and that’s all that matters in the end. Obviously, not all that matters in the grand scheme of things. I have my health, I have my family and friends and I am ostensibly happy. Therefore, if - and this is not a far-away wistful what if, but a very real possibility were there one or two minor alternative outcomes - if I had ended up with a lower or higher class, it wouldn’t have been the most significant thing in the world, because I am not defined by my degree.
There is more to me than chemistry.
Sunday, 16 May 2010
Bridging Oceans
Today, I have reminisced.
You know when you recognise someone from facebook or a film or whatever and then you see them in real life and it's like, well, I feel like I know you from somewhere, even though we've never met. It was a bit like that.
I waited for the train to arrive at the arranged time. Many faces but no sign of the right one. So I waited half an hour for the next train, nerves escalating, pacing the platform like a wild...nah, I was just a bit apprehensive, but less nervous than expected, to be honest. The train eventually appeared and recognition was instant.
After greetings, we walked around for a bit. We went to the castle, 'cause you know, castles seem quite cool to foreigners. We took a picture by the statue. We talked. We ate food. He paid for the meal and opened the door for me, the sexist bastard! The discourse largely consisted of laughing at the discrepancies in our respective languages, as well as comments about the country in general.
Anyway, it was twenty to one odds of catching the train to the next destination if we didn't get to the station sharpish. We rushed back and it wasn't yet half past, so we sat for a while and discussed the encounter. We took a picture together. It was a bizarre experience, but it was well worth it. What have I learnt from the exchange? Details don't really matter; a name is not integral to a person. Conversations are what make the connection. Plus, I got an awesome birthday present out of it. And whoever said there's no such thing as a free lunch?
Chances are, we'll not cross paths again, not out of choice but due to circumstance. But you know what? I think I'll keep in touch. It's great what technology can do these days.
So...who's next?
On the jukebox: Estelle ft. Kayne West ~ American Boy
Monday, 26 April 2010
Okay Whatever
Today I have received a surprise package.
When encountering these kind of situations, whether it be a mystery parcel or a covert text, I tend to conduct an elaborate story in my head of how I should best go about the questioning of who it is from and why it has been sent. As all good liars know, it is best to keep it simple and not expand unless probed. Stick to a line that sounds plausible and everything will be fine. So I have this explanation which is mostly truth but may need to be embellished if inquiries delve deeper. Now, you may wonder wouldn't it be easier to just tell the whole truth, rather than concern yourself over exactly what to say. Well yes, perhaps, but I never did choose the open path.
The thing is, I always imagine these outlines of how the conversation could go if I were to be asked all these follow-up questions and you know, if they're persistent with the asking, it might have to eventually lead to the total truth. But rarely do I ever need to put the plan into place. Because the sad realisation is (and this is a snippet of wisdom that I first heard many moons ago), well, you have to remember: nobody really cares.
Wednesday, 14 April 2010
Time Out
Today, I have been led astray.
It is so rare that I give something or someone my undivided attention.
I turn on the computer in order to do work, yet I can't help but get distracted by this or that. How many tabs do you have open at the moment? I'll just briefly check this, while I wait for this page to load. Of course, that's counter-intuitive because the more pages I have loading, the slower each one will run. It doesn't require much incentive to quickly flick away for an instant, just for a 'break' only to find you've spent ten, fifteen, sixty minutes longer than intended.
Again, back to the hidden secrets of textual activity and internetworking. It's quite plausible to have moments where one is simultaneously texting three different people, whilst instant messaging another. No individual recipient need know about the others and the thing is, with technology these days, no-one actually expects you to devote all of your concentration to one task. You were working, but you had your phone on you, didn't you? Well, yes, but that doesn't mean I'm obliged to respond straight away. If I did that with everyone, replied instantly as soon as I received the message, it's quite possible I would never get anything done. Indeed, more often than not, that is the case.
(Incidentally, in writing this entry, I've turned away twice already to reply to a text. Point proven, eh?)
So, it's good you know, to be with someone, face to face and to be able to focus solely on that conversation with that person. It would be rude to get your phone out, those texts can wait. If it was urgent, people would call - I've heard that remains an option, even in these modern times. When there's two of you sitting in the car, or going for a walk, there's not much else to give attention to than each other. Sometimes I don't feel there's enough of a chance to do that, you know, just take some time out to talk. There's always something you should be doing, or even if there's not, television and computers provide enough entertainment to not be concerned with trivial confab. You don't have to have deep and lengthy discussions, of course, silence can be just as welcoming, but it's a relief to know that you can have a chat without diversion, not to be constantly flipping between different focuses and settle on a subject that could lead to interesting discoveries about a person, a history, or an opinion that you might not have realised had you not chosen to give the undivided attention that everyone deserves, sometimes.
You tell anyone who'll listen but you feel ignored
Nothing's really making any sense at all
Let's talk.
Nothing's really making any sense at all
Let's talk.
On the jukebox: Sondre Lerche ~ Sleep On Needles
Sunday, 4 April 2010
Words Worth
Today, I have only words, and words are all I have.
"Sixty percent of all human communication is nonverbal, body language; thirty percent is your tone, so that means 90% of what you're saying ain't coming out of your mouth."
The subtle and subconscious concept of body language fascinates me. The little clues, hidden meanings that are wrapped within a single twitch of the lips or displayed in a momentary lapse of concentration in which true feelings slip out involuntarily. It's quite astounding how much these signs, sometimes almost undetectable, can have an effect when making decisions on the basis of character, the difference it makes to people's judgement, the large part paralanguage plays when aiming to gauge a person's real intentions, contributing to the gut instinct you have about someone.
This is part of the issue with internet interaction. As you have nothing other to judge a person than what you seen on screen, it means it's easier to create your own concepts of what the person is like, why they're acting like that, what they're really feeling. Indeed, it's far simpler to overcome the initial barriers one may have when meeting someone new, there is less of the awkwardness, uncomfortable silences don't feature and often, quite readily, a false sense of intimacy is created. You are able to say things you wouldn't dare to utter aloud, you can test boundaries in a way you wouldn't be able to in regular communication. Without verbal or physical clues it's more likely that one could misconstrue a situation or a comment.
It's harder to convey raw emotion - pure elation, fierce anger, complete desolation... all reduced to nothing more than stark words on a page, it's harder to feel the pain, share the happiness with only words. Words are an insufficient medium for the expression of feelings. Without face-to-face interaction, it's not possible to show someone they're out of line soley from a raised eyebrow and steely glare; nor to enjoy a private joke with an exchange of a secret smirk. You can't dissolve tension, fear or sadness within a single hug of mutual understanding; wit and humour doesn't always translate as intended. It helps to be adept at using the written language, but really, that's not enough. When lacking the nuances effortlessly portrayed through body language, there arrives the necessity to derive assumptions from mere words. Words are not enough. But they are such a perfect place to start.
It's harder to convey raw emotion - pure elation, fierce anger, complete desolation... all reduced to nothing more than stark words on a page, it's harder to feel the pain, share the happiness with only words. Words are an insufficient medium for the expression of feelings. Without face-to-face interaction, it's not possible to show someone they're out of line soley from a raised eyebrow and steely glare; nor to enjoy a private joke with an exchange of a secret smirk. You can't dissolve tension, fear or sadness within a single hug of mutual understanding; wit and humour doesn't always translate as intended. It helps to be adept at using the written language, but really, that's not enough. When lacking the nuances effortlessly portrayed through body language, there arrives the necessity to derive assumptions from mere words. Words are not enough. But they are such a perfect place to start.
If you're born with a love for the wrote and the writ
People of letters your warning stands clear
Pay heed to your heart and not to your wit
Don't say in a letter what you can't in my ear.
On the jukebox: Johnny Flynn ~ The Wrote & The Writ
Sunday, 21 March 2010
Flix Whatever
Today, I have been a member of a forum.
It's in its fifth year of running, and I've been there since the beginning. When I was sixteen, talking to strangers online wasn't a very cool thing to do. I mean, I'd been on chatrooms and such, but the general consensus was always - why talk to strangers when you can have friends in the flesh? Now, it's considered more widely socially acceptable to network with people you've never met (see, for example, Chatroulette) and so it's not so odd to say so any more. Having said that, if I mentioned in Real Life that I write a blog under an anonymous guise, I'm pretty sure I'd get some askance glances and chiding comments. It is kind of a weird thing to do, really. But as long as no-one finds out, s'fine...
The Forum Whatever essentially maps my journey from the unknown world of endless potential net mates to a niche clique of a dozen or so regulars. If you take a click (and I'm pretty sure your curiousity won't let you resist, after all it's a given that you're inquistive by your very blog-reading nature) you'll see an alternative view of my online alias, with much of the same as you'll find here, except maybe more explictly stated in some cases. If you sign up as a member, you'll discover a new and fascinating way to waste time online, with discussions on everything from Cooking to Chivalry to Cheerleading and beyond. Plus, you can stalk me more frequently with better precision, and of course, that's the intention of everyone reading this, is it not?
Also, the leader of the pack said that if I manage to get three new members to sign up (that is, sign up, stay for longer than a day, and post more than once...) that the forum would be renamed The Flix Whatever in my honour, for a limited period of time and I'd get some cake. That may or may not be a lie, but it's worth a try, aye?
And so, guys and chicks,
Let’s all say together,
We like to mix
At The Flix Whatever!
Let’s all say together,
We like to mix
At The Flix Whatever!
On the jukebox: Fleetwood Mac ~ Go Your Own Way
Wednesday, 6 January 2010
Noughties Netlife
Today, I have looked back.
In 2009, I first met someone I had previously only spoken to on the internet. It's not such a big deal, it happens all the time nowadays. But for me, it is. I never planned to be this person and I'm not sure quite how it came about. One of the odd things about the internet interaction deal is that it's so very simple to go right back and see where you started. It began with a blog which grew into comment contact and then email exchange followed by msn moments until bam! Three years down the line and suddenly you're meeting up in person?
What I like most about the internet is that you can have friends whereever you go in the world. They may be friends you never see, but they are always there. A constant. And in a life where your path weaves all over the land, moving up and down, going out of your mind and growing into yourself, it's nice to know there is always a virtual home you can come back to, and it will be the same, whatever your surroundings or situation in reality. I have a blog and it's ridiculous to place so much emphasis on something so...inanimate, but golly, I don't know what I would have done without it, sometimes.
Because sometimes, when you feel like this, you need it. You just need to talk into the abyss, and know, that even if someone isn't nodding, or smiling, even if they can't offer a hug or a hand, they have read and maybe, they understand. And that's a comfort, that is.
On the jukebox: Butterfly Boucher ~ Life Is Short
The defining aspect of my decade? The internet. In 2000, I created my first email address. In 2005, I created my first weblog.I have lived these last ten years online in many ways. From arranging msn conversations with school friends, to joining a forum of web friends, to tagging faces of university friends, the internet has been an essential part of almost all of my relationships outside of family.
In 2009, I first met someone I had previously only spoken to on the internet. It's not such a big deal, it happens all the time nowadays. But for me, it is. I never planned to be this person and I'm not sure quite how it came about. One of the odd things about the internet interaction deal is that it's so very simple to go right back and see where you started. It began with a blog which grew into comment contact and then email exchange followed by msn moments until bam! Three years down the line and suddenly you're meeting up in person?
What I like most about the internet is that you can have friends whereever you go in the world. They may be friends you never see, but they are always there. A constant. And in a life where your path weaves all over the land, moving up and down, going out of your mind and growing into yourself, it's nice to know there is always a virtual home you can come back to, and it will be the same, whatever your surroundings or situation in reality. I have a blog and it's ridiculous to place so much emphasis on something so...inanimate, but golly, I don't know what I would have done without it, sometimes.
Because sometimes, when you feel like this, you need it. You just need to talk into the abyss, and know, that even if someone isn't nodding, or smiling, even if they can't offer a hug or a hand, they have read and maybe, they understand. And that's a comfort, that is.
I know I'm alone if I'm with or without you,
But just being around you offers me another form of relief.
But just being around you offers me another form of relief.
Happy 2nd Birthday, Flitterbee.
On the jukebox: Butterfly Boucher ~ Life Is Short
Sunday, 1 November 2009
Blogful Thoughts
Today, I have had time to ponder wonderfully.
A fair while ago now, I started a blog. It saw a substantial stint of writage, but hasn't had action for the last couple of years or so. It was open to the whole internet at first, until I belatedly discovered that the whole internet meant that people close to me were privy to my embarassingly honest inner thoughts. From then on, it became limited to a few people who were effectively strangers. And then I decided I wanted to know more strangers on the internet, so I started a new blog.
Of the sites I frequent, I realise I am unusual in one particular aspect - as far as I am aware, no-one I know or have met reads this blog. I gather from various mentionings that many of the people I read know another blogger in person or at least better than I would claim to know any of you.
It's part of the thing that makes this whole writing online deal a bit of a weird thing to be doing. I can't have a personal website where I let anyone know what I'm doing without becoming immediately contrived as I find that I simply can't be straightforward in what I write because half of this isn't really who I am. Who writes like they talk, after all? I can't have a totally anonymous blog without finding myself interacting with people to a certain extent, and anyway, as has been proven before, you can never be sure who is watching secretly...
I fall into the internet when I need a comforting crutch to support myself. It's so easy and so avaliable that it's hard to resist, and maybe there's a metaphor in there somewhere. But yes, I could become entwined in all of it, absorb it and feel all warm and fuzzy and full of big bales of yay. But then there comes a point when you're really alone. And no-one's posted anything today, and there's no new comments to make everything okay. Or if they do or there are, you find it doesn't really help anyway. And I think sometimes it's at that point when you realise that although it's convenient and fills a void partway, it's never going to fill your little world right up, and this is definitely becoming somewhat double meaning'd.
So I'm left in this kind of no-man's land. I write, but what I say is carefully guarded and somewhat - unavoidably - forced, in a way. It's not natural, because I don't know how to say it all without considering what people might think when they read it, how they are quick to draw conclusions and make assumptions before I so much as hit the enter key. I trip over myself with stupid analogies to dress up the regular confusion that comes with life.
At the end of it, I suppose it comes down to this latent desire to show off. I don't know what I'm showing off, exactly, but I'm pretty sure that's it. That's all it ever is. Attention-seeking drama queen; mistress of mystery.
Of the sites I frequent, I realise I am unusual in one particular aspect - as far as I am aware, no-one I know or have met reads this blog. I gather from various mentionings that many of the people I read know another blogger in person or at least better than I would claim to know any of you.
It's part of the thing that makes this whole writing online deal a bit of a weird thing to be doing. I can't have a personal website where I let anyone know what I'm doing without becoming immediately contrived as I find that I simply can't be straightforward in what I write because half of this isn't really who I am. Who writes like they talk, after all? I can't have a totally anonymous blog without finding myself interacting with people to a certain extent, and anyway, as has been proven before, you can never be sure who is watching secretly...
I fall into the internet when I need a comforting crutch to support myself. It's so easy and so avaliable that it's hard to resist, and maybe there's a metaphor in there somewhere. But yes, I could become entwined in all of it, absorb it and feel all warm and fuzzy and full of big bales of yay. But then there comes a point when you're really alone. And no-one's posted anything today, and there's no new comments to make everything okay. Or if they do or there are, you find it doesn't really help anyway. And I think sometimes it's at that point when you realise that although it's convenient and fills a void partway, it's never going to fill your little world right up, and this is definitely becoming somewhat double meaning'd.
So I'm left in this kind of no-man's land. I write, but what I say is carefully guarded and somewhat - unavoidably - forced, in a way. It's not natural, because I don't know how to say it all without considering what people might think when they read it, how they are quick to draw conclusions and make assumptions before I so much as hit the enter key. I trip over myself with stupid analogies to dress up the regular confusion that comes with life.
At the end of it, I suppose it comes down to this latent desire to show off. I don't know what I'm showing off, exactly, but I'm pretty sure that's it. That's all it ever is. Attention-seeking drama queen; mistress of mystery.
Thursday, 3 September 2009
Geek Girl
Today, I have sourced scientific artefacts.
I am not cool.
I am not cool. Conversing with people on the internet is not a cool thing to do. Insightful, interesting, and thought-provoking, yes, but not cool. Science is not cool. Intellectual, innovative and incredibly useful, yes, but not cool. Teetotal is not cool and drinking alcohol in moderation is disobeying the social commandment of students. I prefer photoshop to painting; I prefer books to tv; I prefer writing to talking.
I am not cool.
I am not cool. Conversing with people on the internet is not a cool thing to do. Insightful, interesting, and thought-provoking, yes, but not cool. Science is not cool. Intellectual, innovative and incredibly useful, yes, but not cool. Teetotal is not cool and drinking alcohol in moderation is disobeying the social commandment of students. I prefer photoshop to painting; I prefer books to tv; I prefer writing to talking.
I am weird, I am geeky, I am quirky, I am special. I am the kind of person who makes a periodic table out of post-it notes or knows pi to eight decimal places, I am the type of person who spends a free morning looking at chemistry-based jewellery or trying out different ways to wear a lab coat.
Sometimes I pretend to be cool for the hell of it, and hey, sometimes I get away with it. But really, pretending to be cool is just another way of being weird. And to be honest, I'm quite alright with that.
Friday, 8 May 2009
Crossing Over
Today, I have butterflies.
But hell, I have to tell someone.
Today, I am meeting a friend.
On the jukebox: OMC ~ How Bizarre
Today, I am meeting a friend, right here in this city. This is someone I've known for a while, but we haven't seen each other since like, forever. It's a bit of a weird situation. I'm not quite sure what exactly this whole meeting deal will entail or what it'll be like to see each other after so long, so I don't really want to talk about it to anyone I know; I don't think they'd understand.
But hell, I have to tell someone.
Today, I am meeting a friend.
On the jukebox: OMC ~ How Bizarre
Wednesday, 14 January 2009
Facebook Friends
Today, I have visited a social networking site.
It freaks me out how very easy it is to find out about people. By way of mutual friends, news feeds and subtle stalking a whole host of information is revealed, knowledge that can't be unlearnt, photos plastered all over the place without permission, comments that could be held against you at a later date...
Despite the logical probability of it happening, to think that someone I know in personface has at the very least spoken to someone who I have known only through blogface is a strange sensation; the realisation that the two of the parts of my life that are usually kept so separate can so readily collide.
On the jukebox: Smash Mouth ~ Why Can't We Be Friends?
Facebook is really quite odd.
It freaks me out how very easy it is to find out about people. By way of mutual friends, news feeds and subtle stalking a whole host of information is revealed, knowledge that can't be unlearnt, photos plastered all over the place without permission, comments that could be held against you at a later date...
A while ago, it came up on my home page that:
This shouldn't have come as such a surprise. The thing is, with knowing people from universities and homes all over the country, it's not exactly unlikely that there's an overlap in particular places. Add in the fact that the internet is international - the way we 'meet' people on t'web doesn't require being in the same geographical location at the same time - I suppose it'd be weird for there to not be some common aquaintance.
[RealLifeFriend] is now friends with [NetLifeFriend]
This shouldn't have come as such a surprise. The thing is, with knowing people from universities and homes all over the country, it's not exactly unlikely that there's an overlap in particular places. Add in the fact that the internet is international - the way we 'meet' people on t'web doesn't require being in the same geographical location at the same time - I suppose it'd be weird for there to not be some common aquaintance.
Despite the logical probability of it happening, to think that someone I know in personface has at the very least spoken to someone who I have known only through blogface is a strange sensation; the realisation that the two of the parts of my life that are usually kept so separate can so readily collide.
On the jukebox: Smash Mouth ~ Why Can't We Be Friends?
Sunday, 31 August 2008
Electronic Exchange
Today, I have sent an e-mail.
In terms of comunication devices, emails often aren't the top of my "used most often" list, despite the fact that I have four currently active email addresses. Well, I say active. The longest-serving is my first email address from my initial venture into the world of internet, which I think was around December 2000? Gosh, how time does fly. My cute_username_897@hotmail.com was used well for the first four or five years of its life, what with the MSN craze, forwarding quizzes to and fro closest friends, corresponding with far-away faces or everyday school mates.
When UCAS came along, sophistication was the key - lil_minx23 or sweetiepie88 weren't going to wash with those admission people, methinks. Alors, a more appropriate fullnamesurname@hotmail.co.uk was created, for official use only. Now it harbours iTunes receipts and HMV offers, plus some recruitment newsletter I signed up for about two years ago for no particular reason. Who knows, maybe one day I'll find a perfect internship I've been looking for or a fantastic price for the album I've always wanted?
The other two addresses are the ones I use most often: the official university contact address and the address you will find as contact on this site. Most others I choose to netchat to has long since moved on to facebook, and so I have little use for the first email address I created all those moons ago. Now I check it every couple of months, and it yields no more than the Windows Live Newsletter, which I receive in two other places, and never read.
So why keep checking?
In a similar way to letters, emails hold a vast amount of memories. In addition, unlike letters, emails hold both the sent and received message - whole conversations, in fact. Trawling over emails from years, or even months, ago is a somewhat weird experience, as now I read it through from a different perspective, see myself from a another angle. It's strange, being able to note the wheres and whys of when we just stopped exchanging mail, or at least slowed down significantly. It's probably not a good idea to persue an activity like this, as it leaves too much room for analysis and contemplation. Anyway, if emails are all you've got to show of a friendship, then can it really be much of a relationship at all?
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
Today has taught me: it's probably best not to revisit the past, unless it could somehow help with the future.
On the jukebox: Snow Patrol ~ You Could Be Happy
In terms of comunication devices, emails often aren't the top of my "used most often" list, despite the fact that I have four currently active email addresses. Well, I say active. The longest-serving is my first email address from my initial venture into the world of internet, which I think was around December 2000? Gosh, how time does fly. My cute_username_897@hotmail.com was used well for the first four or five years of its life, what with the MSN craze, forwarding quizzes to and fro closest friends, corresponding with far-away faces or everyday school mates.
When UCAS came along, sophistication was the key - lil_minx23 or sweetiepie88 weren't going to wash with those admission people, methinks. Alors, a more appropriate fullnamesurname@hotmail.co.uk was created, for official use only. Now it harbours iTunes receipts and HMV offers, plus some recruitment newsletter I signed up for about two years ago for no particular reason. Who knows, maybe one day I'll find a perfect internship I've been looking for or a fantastic price for the album I've always wanted?
The other two addresses are the ones I use most often: the official university contact address and the address you will find as contact on this site. Most others I choose to netchat to has long since moved on to facebook, and so I have little use for the first email address I created all those moons ago. Now I check it every couple of months, and it yields no more than the Windows Live Newsletter, which I receive in two other places, and never read.
So why keep checking?
In a similar way to letters, emails hold a vast amount of memories. In addition, unlike letters, emails hold both the sent and received message - whole conversations, in fact. Trawling over emails from years, or even months, ago is a somewhat weird experience, as now I read it through from a different perspective, see myself from a another angle. It's strange, being able to note the wheres and whys of when we just stopped exchanging mail, or at least slowed down significantly. It's probably not a good idea to persue an activity like this, as it leaves too much room for analysis and contemplation. Anyway, if emails are all you've got to show of a friendship, then can it really be much of a relationship at all?
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
Today has taught me: it's probably best not to revisit the past, unless it could somehow help with the future.
Tuesday, 29 July 2008
Knowing Me
Today, I have carried out a random act of kindness.
When A Year Of Kindness started out at the beginning of this month, I thought it was a great idea. Mainly because, as with many ideas that I think are great, I had considered doing something similar. I've often wanted a blog with a sole purpose; a specific structure; a reason to blog. The problem with restricting yourself to a particular style of blogging is that it doesn't leave much room for expansion or change and can end up becoming repetative or just plain dull. It does a blog good to be able to shake up the style every once in a while.
The entries are often better if based quite loosely around a general subject or format - for example "A Day In The Life Of A Student" type is fairly straightforward, as all it means is you write about the idiosyncrasies of student life - a snapshot of what it's like to be that age, being on the brink of adulthood can offer some of the most entertaining and perceptive moments of life before reaching the middle-age mundanities of mortgages and marriages. People like to read about things that relate to them, or insights into how other people live. Weblogs that I read have long been a source of inspiration or contemplation - raising ideas that may have discussed before, throwing new light on a subject, or simply a way to pass the time. If you asked me what I write about on my blog? "random stuff an' fings, like yeah...I dunno"
Hell, I go off on a tangent enough in a single blog entry - starting off with one subject and finding myself wandering over onto some unfocussed land of babble, as is so succintly displayed in this very example - I couldn't imagine keeping it based around the same subject for each entry I write. What I'm saying is, as long as you can articulate yourself appropriately, it doesn't matter really what you say, I'll read it anyway...
Today has taught me: Not to publish your blogs before they're finished, just to see what they look like. They will still turn up on RSS feed and make you look like a fool :oP
On the jukebox: Mystery Jets ~ Young Love
The entries are often better if based quite loosely around a general subject or format - for example "A Day In The Life Of A Student" type is fairly straightforward, as all it means is you write about the idiosyncrasies of student life - a snapshot of what it's like to be that age, being on the brink of adulthood can offer some of the most entertaining and perceptive moments of life before reaching the middle-age mundanities of mortgages and marriages. People like to read about things that relate to them, or insights into how other people live. Weblogs that I read have long been a source of inspiration or contemplation - raising ideas that may have discussed before, throwing new light on a subject, or simply a way to pass the time. If you asked me what I write about on my blog? "random stuff an' fings, like yeah...I dunno"
Hell, I go off on a tangent enough in a single blog entry - starting off with one subject and finding myself wandering over onto some unfocussed land of babble, as is so succintly displayed in this very example - I couldn't imagine keeping it based around the same subject for each entry I write. What I'm saying is, as long as you can articulate yourself appropriately, it doesn't matter really what you say, I'll read it anyway...
Today has taught me: Not to publish your blogs before they're finished, just to see what they look like. They will still turn up on RSS feed and make you look like a fool :oP
On the jukebox: Mystery Jets ~ Young Love
Tuesday, 3 June 2008
Passive Participation
Today, I have sat waiting, watching...
What I find particulary weird about this form of communication is how easy it is to be a passive participant. Often, blogs are more personal than simply views on topical subjects, and more guarded than a private diary. After all, it's open to the whole internet, it'd be daft to explain personal exploits in too much detail. Naturally, most people are aware of what they are saying to the world at large, and will censor their writing appropriately. But it's easy to underestimate just how much readers can gather about you from these words alone, and how it's possible to piece together a history from snips and slithers of information scattered about the place without you even realising they know. Of course, the fact that it's open to the whole internet doesn't mean the whole internet will read it. But do you ever wonder who actually does?
It's odd to think how many people could pass by without even leaving a mark. Oh, I know that it's highly unlikely that I have any more readers than the ones I am specifically aware of, but the point is, it's possible. If someone is following your conversations as you sit on the bus, you would know who could hear. If you see someone on the street, meet their gaze and immediately turn away, it would be obvious. Here, no change is seen - you could click, and click off, you could read intently and not respond. You could not read it all, and respond to only one part, and yet the assumption lies that you're always listening, you know, even if you've made no discernable signal that expresses that.
That's part of the problem. In conversation, you can judge, most of the time, whether people are listening or not - whether what you're saying is interesting, whether people have heard it before - by how they respond. You choose who to talk to, you hope that someone will listen, you give a little, you take a little. With this form of interaction, it's so easy to participate only one way or another. You could type type type and never know if people have heard, or think that no-one's really listening. You could read read read and people would never know how much you know because you never say a word. It's a bit strange.
Increasingly, I'm finding this kind of passive participation happening more in other aspects of my life. Before, you might rely on phone calls or messengers to relay vital gossip. Now, with facebook, forums and the like, you can find out intimate details about someone's personal life without ever needing to contact them directly. It's amazing how easily people give information away.
Most conversations are simply monologues delivered in the presence of witnesses.
~Margaret Millar
On the jukebox: The Feeling ~ Strange
What I find particulary weird about this form of communication is how easy it is to be a passive participant. Often, blogs are more personal than simply views on topical subjects, and more guarded than a private diary. After all, it's open to the whole internet, it'd be daft to explain personal exploits in too much detail. Naturally, most people are aware of what they are saying to the world at large, and will censor their writing appropriately. But it's easy to underestimate just how much readers can gather about you from these words alone, and how it's possible to piece together a history from snips and slithers of information scattered about the place without you even realising they know. Of course, the fact that it's open to the whole internet doesn't mean the whole internet will read it. But do you ever wonder who actually does?
It's odd to think how many people could pass by without even leaving a mark. Oh, I know that it's highly unlikely that I have any more readers than the ones I am specifically aware of, but the point is, it's possible. If someone is following your conversations as you sit on the bus, you would know who could hear. If you see someone on the street, meet their gaze and immediately turn away, it would be obvious. Here, no change is seen - you could click, and click off, you could read intently and not respond. You could not read it all, and respond to only one part, and yet the assumption lies that you're always listening, you know, even if you've made no discernable signal that expresses that.
That's part of the problem. In conversation, you can judge, most of the time, whether people are listening or not - whether what you're saying is interesting, whether people have heard it before - by how they respond. You choose who to talk to, you hope that someone will listen, you give a little, you take a little. With this form of interaction, it's so easy to participate only one way or another. You could type type type and never know if people have heard, or think that no-one's really listening. You could read read read and people would never know how much you know because you never say a word. It's a bit strange.
Increasingly, I'm finding this kind of passive participation happening more in other aspects of my life. Before, you might rely on phone calls or messengers to relay vital gossip. Now, with facebook, forums and the like, you can find out intimate details about someone's personal life without ever needing to contact them directly. It's amazing how easily people give information away.
Most conversations are simply monologues delivered in the presence of witnesses.
~Margaret Millar
On the jukebox: The Feeling ~ Strange
Wednesday, 7 May 2008
Love You
Today, I have ended a conversation with love.
How often do you (verbally) express your love to someone else? The internet has a funny way of enforcing intimacy in a way that wouldn't necessarily be the same in a regular exchange, this form of technology is similar to alcohol in that respect. A kiss on the lips is the informal handshake of young people. Love loses its meaning in being plastered all over walls everywhere, the number of x at the end of the message is obviously so significant in friendship heirarchy and determining levels of attraction, something that should be analysed to the max and used to assess the validity of suspicions.
One of my friends works with computers, sits all day in front of them, taking calls and such. What I find most intriguing, is the stories that I hear from the workplace, a suggestive snippet of conversation making it seem like that is all the workmates did all day - flirt, gossip, flirt and marvelled at the confidence my friend must have to make this kind of conversation, and gain that sort of attention with people who weren't much more than aquaintances in any real sense. Then I found out it was all conducted online, via messenger. It seems an odd thing to make note of now, but it made a big difference in how I saw the interactions between them.
To start up a conversation with a person online isn't hard to do, really. It's much easier to let your guard down when you're not actually faced with the person, or to present yourself using the more attractive parts of your personality. How can you pretend you've got any kind of real repore without actually ever speaking to them? Flirting online is just not the same at all, people say stuff online that they would never dare even hint at face-to-face. Love and kisses are thrown about all over the place "zomg, I actually LOVE you!!11!!xXxXxXx" without a second thought. It makes the whole boy/girl interaction thing a whole lot easier, in some respects. Indeed, I'm not denying there's something to be gleaned from that form of communication, of course you can learn a lot about a lot and perhaps a lot more than you might usually. But honestly, I can't have much faith in your womanising or - is there an equivalent for men? - manising? skills if online instant messaging is your main piece of evidence for them.
On the jukebox: Goo Goo Dolls ~ Name
How often do you (verbally) express your love to someone else? The internet has a funny way of enforcing intimacy in a way that wouldn't necessarily be the same in a regular exchange, this form of technology is similar to alcohol in that respect. A kiss on the lips is the informal handshake of young people. Love loses its meaning in being plastered all over walls everywhere, the number of x at the end of the message is obviously so significant in friendship heirarchy and determining levels of attraction, something that should be analysed to the max and used to assess the validity of suspicions.
One of my friends works with computers, sits all day in front of them, taking calls and such. What I find most intriguing, is the stories that I hear from the workplace, a suggestive snippet of conversation making it seem like that is all the workmates did all day - flirt, gossip, flirt and marvelled at the confidence my friend must have to make this kind of conversation, and gain that sort of attention with people who weren't much more than aquaintances in any real sense. Then I found out it was all conducted online, via messenger. It seems an odd thing to make note of now, but it made a big difference in how I saw the interactions between them.
To start up a conversation with a person online isn't hard to do, really. It's much easier to let your guard down when you're not actually faced with the person, or to present yourself using the more attractive parts of your personality. How can you pretend you've got any kind of real repore without actually ever speaking to them? Flirting online is just not the same at all, people say stuff online that they would never dare even hint at face-to-face. Love and kisses are thrown about all over the place "zomg, I actually LOVE you!!11!!xXxXxXx" without a second thought. It makes the whole boy/girl interaction thing a whole lot easier, in some respects. Indeed, I'm not denying there's something to be gleaned from that form of communication, of course you can learn a lot about a lot and perhaps a lot more than you might usually. But honestly, I can't have much faith in your womanising or - is there an equivalent for men? - manising? skills if online instant messaging is your main piece of evidence for them.
On the jukebox: Goo Goo Dolls ~ Name
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