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

Telly Talk

Today, I have not watched television

This is not a ban, it is not a plan, it is not something I am proud to have managed. I have not watched television because I do not own one. 

It was an unessential expense at the time I moved in and would not be a cheap choice now. I can afford a television and it was always my intent to purchase one, but given that I've survived many months without it, I am increasingly doubting that I do require one after all. 

"How...can you not have a TV? What do you do in the evening?"

That's not to say I am any less sedentary or more productive as a result. Or even that I don't watch series or programmes that are shown on television.  People seem to forget the modern convenience and technology means you don't actually need a proper TV to be able to catch-up on your wanted watching. I have a laptop, I have Netflix access, 4OD, iTV player, BBC iPlayer. Having said that, I don't tend to watch that much; I spend screen time on the internet instead, or I listen to the radio. There's so much information out there, so many people's opinions, thoughts, reviews, suggestions that you can't possibly tire of it completely. There's not much room to be bored, these days. 

A television isn't a necessity for me, but it would be handy for guests and extending social invitations. As much as I love the idea that friends come over to chat, drink, eat and play games, that's not always the case. Sharing a film or show together can be as much a bonding experience as any other way of passing time,  It would be great to be able to say "come on over, let's watch this at mine". To curl up on the sofa with duvets and popcorn and see a film together. To arrange to have a weekly wine and Strictly session. To order-in pizza and consume an entire box-set back-to-back. 

So, as the new year and January sales roll around again, I am wondering - should I bite the bullet and buy a TV? Or save £300+ and spend that on a holiday instead? 

Flitterbox: The Buggles ~ Video Killed The Radio Star
Flitterbook: The State We're In ~ Adele Parks

Blank Faces

Today, I have spoken on the phone.

I am currently in a job role in which I have only a handful of people that I deal with on a regular basis. It is mostly contact by email, although I will speak to them on the phone if appropriate. I am the singular point of contact for these people, they know me by name and I them, the same. 

So, I know their names and I've heard most of their voices. But I've never met them. I don't know what they look like. It's slightly weird. I kind of imagine most people to be older, or more experienced, or more senior than me. I don't really know why that is. There's no reason why the person on the other end of the email isn't just as young as me, or have equivalent experience to me. There's a necessity to be professional at times, but sometimes I find it strange to speak so professionally with someone who is essentially, just like me. Hey, we could even be friends? 

It's weird, to think that the person I am speaking to is not some Big Corporate Person, but could just be a graduate girl in her twenties, someone I could have known at university, someone I could bump into on a Saturday night.  It's weird, to think, that I could encounter these people and not even know that they are the person I speak to on a weekly basis. It's not unreasonable that I could be in the same bars or shops if ever I were in the area. I wouldn't even know it. I could pass them in the street and not even know it.

Isn't that kind of odd? So for work, as for the internet. It's the bizarro world we live in, getting to know people before you meet them. Very strange. 

Flitterbox: James ~ Who Are You
Flitterbook: Jacob M. Appel ~ The Man Who Wouldn't Stand Up

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

White Noise

Today, I have listened to the radio.

As I do most mornings, for about twenty minutes or so. Sometimes during the day. Rarely in the evening.

I like the radio. You don't have to chose what music to put on and maybe you'll find something you enjoy. I like the radio, because it tells you the news and offers views. When you spend every day with the same person, who has nothing new to say, it's a welcome break to listen to someone who chats about something other than words and pages and formatting. I like the radio, because you don't have to look at it. When you spend every day sitting, staring straight at a white computer screen, trying to find novel ways to explain that "well, it just didn't work, okay?" it's a nice change to be able to collapse onto a bed and absorb information without needing to look directly into a square of stark bright light. I like the radio, because you don't have to concentrate. When you spend every day with your brain struggling to process, well, anything, it's refreshing to not need to read, or watch or pay close attention. I like the radio, because it doesn't expect you to respond. When you spend every day, in between people, in between problems, in between dreams, it's a relief to have company that doesn't require a reply; that won't get in a huff if you choose to switch off.

Because sometimes, you just can't stand to hear someone singing the same tired tune, because sometimes, you just want to say, oh won't you please shut up and go away?

On the jukebox: The Pipettes ~ Stop The Music

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.

On the jukebox: Sondre Lerche ~ Sleep On Needles

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! 

On the jukebox: Fleetwood Mac ~ Go Your Own Way

Facebook Friends

Today, I have visited a social networking site.

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:

[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?

Special Surprise

Today, I have received a package.

A belated birthday present. Though, in all fairness, it had further to travel than most of my other birthday gifts, so I guess I can overlook the tardiness of its arrival...

It has occurred to me recently, that in the past few months I have spent more on my postal expenses than on my phone expenses. This isn't a huge revelation in itself, given that I am not a big fan of the talking thang, but knowing that some people haven't sent so much as one letter or card in their time at university, yet will yabber on the phone for £50+ a month, it could be seen as somewhat odd in this world of technological advancement. But a birthday card is better than a birthday text, and a tangible, colourful letter with stickers and glitter brightens up the day more than mere typeface on a screen. It takes more effort than an email, and that effort is always appreciated. It's nice to show and know people care.

Little "happy birthday" or "good luck" messages through the letterbox are great. A catch-up-pick-me-up-just-a-note-to-say is also ace. Unexpected parcels from places far away are absolutely fantastic. Post is always necessary. I wouldn't want it any other way.

Awesome.

Exams finish in two days.

On the jukebox: Smash Mouth ~ Hang On

Friend Finder

Today, I have been told who I could be friends with.

Honestly, if it wasn't enough for my existing "friends" to know and stalk my every move, you're now suggesting who else I should extend my circle to? Does it not occur to you, that if I was actually friends with these people, I would already be "friends" with them. It makes me wonder who's lists I'm popping up on as "we have mutual friends, I've possibly met you once, therefore you should add me and make yourself look more popular?"

Truth be told, I do "know" most of the people that come up, but that doesn't mean I need to add as a friend as there is absolutely no reason to invite them into all my conversations. Not that I tend to openly hold conversations on social networking sites, I've had some none so pleasant experiences with misinterpretation and that's only when it's come out in the open, who knows what people twitter about "did you see on her profile it said such and such...!"and to be honest, I don't need or want everyone to know what I'm doing on Friday night or who I talk to most often. It's worrying how much detailed information some people give, and how impossible it is to control information about yourself - photos popping up anywhere, conversations eavesdropped upon, being able to check up on ex-girlfriends simply because they live in the same area as you, even if you've never met....

The stalking potential is huge, even if you take all the strictest privacy options. The only way to escape being followed is to not become involved at all. However, then you're taking away a wealth of procrastination and socialisation opportunity in one quick snip. It's a tough life for students these days, eh?

The only thing worse than spending all your time on Facebook, is spending all your time talking about Facebook.

On the jukebox: Penn Masala ~ The Facebook Skit

Casual Conversations

Today, I have been concerned by a lack of contact. 

It's strange, when the only form of contact you have with someone is the internet, how disconnected you can feel when they are disconnected from it. I suppose, in a sense, it's not strange at all, seeing as it is the only form of contact, not having that form of contact means not having any form of contact at all, which while doesn't ultimately alter your daily life as things stand - and truth is, they're probably doing ok, too -  it is still a bit rubbish. 

On the jukebox: KT Tunstall ~ If Only

Justification Required

Today, I have discovered I can justify a blog entry.

I like straight lines. I like neat paragraphs. I am a perfectionist. Justification of blog entries is a technological revelation that I have always wanted, but never thought to sought out how to achieve. Though I'm pretty sure I could have found how to HTML it, I somehow never saw that it was in the tool bar all along! I am an idiotic loser, there's no need to tell me this, just pretend you didn't notice. ;o)

On the jukebox: The Lighthouse Family ~ Lifted

Square Eyes

Today, I have stared at a screen.

It's unavoidable. Computer. Television. Mobile Phone. Music Player. Digital Camera. Powerpoint Presentation Projection. Almost every part of my life involves looking at a bright electronic screen. Even the parts of my life that used to be limited to simple old-style "black and white" screen - you know, like the first mobile phones, and ancient mp3 players - are now brilliantly white and colourful shining, filling the room. It's annoying, when I just want to rest my eyes for a while, I can't even listen to music without the light loudly announcing it's presence.

Similarly, lectures. What happened to the good old whiteboard? It is more convienient and clearer to have the notes on powerpoint, I know, but it adds another screen to cope with, a further strain on the eyes, all the time.

Then there's this talk of electronic books. Now, I don't find much time (or money) to buy newspapers these days, I've already succumbed to the internet for that information. But books? Part of the joy of reading is the physical flick of the page, being able to get lost in the story, the words, forgetting that you're in possession of a tangible object and allowing the imagination to take over. The concept of electronic books, where you download your novels to an object the size of an iPod, seems to siphon much of the joy out of reading, I feel. Just because the technology is possible, doesn't mean it is necessary. Reading is about the one thing I can take solo pleasure in that doesn't involve staring at a screen, I'd like to keep it that way. A break from the constant bombardment of electrons to the eyes. (Don't quote me on this, I don't actually know how the screens work in any sense.)

Having said that, given that I spend most of my spare time glued to the computer with little purpose, I suppose I don't do myself many favours.

On the jukebox: Kelly Clarkson ~ Behind These Hazel Eyes

Pretty Patterns

Today, I have played with Komputational Kaleidoscopes.

From Enormous Eye:

To Perfect Petals:

Sunday Evening = Goodbye Respite; Hello Hell.

On the jukebox: The Verve ~ Drugs Don't Work

Photo Flicker

Today, I have clicked through photographs.

Isn't the internet a wonderful invention? You take a photo, upload it and within literally a few seconds, it can be screened to anyone across the world.

Of course, that doesn't mean you should do that with every picture you take. Digital cameras are fantastic - duff shots can be instantly deleted. Disappointment at not getting the perfect pose is rapidly diffused with the knowledge that you can immediately rectify the situation, and take another one, or another 7894 or so.

People were always so much more cautious with film cameras. A photo actually meant something, no flippant taking of anything all the time. Now, despite the clear advantage of being able to delete rubbish pictures, few tend take advantage of it. Many people appear to be quite vain creatures, and while unwilling to have a photo that shows them in a slightly less than favourable light, will be willing to forgo that possibility for the chance that they could have 12 more than might be just perfect.

For me, photos should be connected to memories, not be the memories themselves. Understandably, if it's a one off occasion: a birthday; a themed night; a party of old friends; it's nice to have photos as a reminder of happy times. However, scores of photos of a usual night on the town, when these events aren't exactly irregular occurances just seems fairly futile. Sure, the people who feature may be interested to see their own smiling faces x 202, but otherwise - why would you want to look at the same people pulling the same mundane poses. It serves to show nothing but "oh, you were drunk, again"

I prefer to capture the moments that mean something - snap the odd exchange with the perfect expression, people caught unawares in a way that totally demonstrates the essence of the interaction. Endless perfect poses are boring to take and to look through, the only reason to show them to the world is to show your face to the world, make you feel like you're important to other people.

Indeed, I do like nosing through photos and as the cliché goes - a picture tells a thousand words. But I do wish people would be more selective in deciding which ones to display; showcasing only the particulary decent ones, and not every misaligned click of the camera.

On the jukebox: Babybird ~ You're Gorgeous

Net Nerd

Today, I have figured out why I started a new blog.

Everyone who I have never met in this peculiar little land can be traced back to my orginal blog face. Some indirectly so - I followed a link to a link to a link and somehow end up absorbed in some of the most fascinating pieces of writing, or sharing laughs and memories with people who have never even seen me smile.

What a freak. You have friends that you met on the internet!? Gasp, shock, horror, that’s just not normal. No offence, but you’re a bit wrong in the head. Go and get laid, dear, get out a bit more, spend time with that nice young lad, speak to some of your real friends.

Perceptions can be misleading. Okay, so there’s a lot to be said for body language, tone of voice, actual conversation or whatever. But still, I think I can judge the character of someone I’ve known for two years better than some people I've known for two months..

Over two and a half years ago, I came into existence. Today, instead of studying and stressing for an oh-so-important examination that will mean nothing to me in two years time, I am stalking someone in particular. The me of two years ago. It's embarassing, to say the least. But it's also it's surprisingly heart-warming. Strangely so. The advice, opinions and seemingingly insignificant remarks that people have made over the time I've been around are interesting to look back on, and some specific comments made by certain people have meant more to me than they will ever know.

It's weird to think of some people who, for both of you, the chance meeting was a fleeting blog hop that perhaps turned into a blossoming banter between two people - one that could flourish or finish just as easily and abruptly as it came about. It's weird, it's different, but sometimes, it works. I lost a sense of that a bit when I made my space private and so, though I know it won't really make much difference, as it will be the same wonderful people who visit here as did there, there's still the option to open more doors, you know?

On the jukebox: Petula Clark - Downtown