Sometimes I just don't care about every little thing you have done.

Recently I have noticed that a scroll through my Facebook news feed no longer updates me with important milestones of my friends, or amusing or interesting comments and observations.  Now it has become an hour-by-hour run down of the lives of people who feel the need to record any activity they have participated in.  Are we now in a world where something only actually happened if it has appeared in someone's Facebook status? I am beginning to see lives as a series of short statements, check-ins or still shots (and the occasional video) rather than a discussion or dialogue.  I am beginning to feel that a gym class is only calorie-burning and rewarding when five of your 'friends' have congratulated you for it.  That a dinner and conversation with friends at a nice restaurant is not really happening unless Facebook friends (who I only ever 'see' through a news feed) know where I am and what I'm doing.  That I shouldn't feel like I'm looking 'pretty good' unless I have been validated through 'likes.'  If I have accomplished something (like cooked a delicious meal, finished a shift at work) I now realise it is really only an accomplishment when I have recorded it on my status (and maybe with an accompanying photo).

Life, it seems, is now being seen through the news feed and profile pages of Facebook (and increasingly, Twitter).  When people plan on going for a nice romantic evening with their husband they are not enjoying the private and intimate time together, they are thinking about how they can write a status of how wonderful their husband is and let everyone in on their intimate evening.  Instead of ringing family and friends with some good news, they are hoping 100 other people they never speak to or see will 'like' it.  Watching a gorgeous sunset is an opportunity to take numerous photos and to post the best one.  As people witness something amazing, devastating or amusing, they are immediately wording a witty or emotive status in their mind.  We feel that 'liking' someone's status or photo is valuable communication and makes us feel we are connecting to that person.  If someone doesn't 'like' our status or photo we feel insulted or miffed at their snobbery.  

I guess I see some advantage to a status-rich life.  It saves actually having real conversations with people.  It has taught me to be economical and bland with my words - not enough characters to create an image or proper description.  It allows me to be selective in what people see I am doing with my life (and how I look - I would never post an unflattering photo of myself).  I also don't have to waste my time in expressing my moods.  I just need to write it in a status and people can then deal with it.  And a few 'we're here for you,' or 'we love you' from 'friends' can be enough to shake me out of any sad or depressing mood.  I think my problem is that I just don't think anyone wants to, or needs to, know so much about each other's lives.  Many of the things people put in statuses should be reserved for people who you see or speak to regularly.  Or maybe a yearly newsletter of your life if one must publish their daily movements.  

That witty, observant or major milestone status seems to be a thing of the past and I miss them.  They are lost among recordings of exercise, good and bad moods, complaints, bragging, cheering on football teams, what is on TV, what time one wakes up, when one can't sleep, how hungry one is, how thirsty one is, what one has drunk (and how much), how cold or hot one is, how fantastic one's husband/boyfriend is (usually for things every husband/boyfriend should, or does, do)...it goes on.  

However, these I can deal with.  I can skim and scroll past them.  Sometimes even appreciate them (with a lazy but effective 'like').  What I find hardest to read, what really does concern me, is the rise in 'Mummy Statuses.'  I'm not labelling them - they do enough of this themselves through their constant, hourly updates of what they and their child is doing.  Quite often accompanied by a photo (or series of photos).  I am seeing a world of mothers who a 'mothering' through Facebook.  It seems that whenever their child does something their mother is planning how it will be presented on their Facebook page.  There is no need to share milestones like first steps with those close to you, the whole Facebook world needs to know first.  It seems these mothers need to remind the world that they are a mother, that they are raising a child (usually a brilliant child) and that every little thing a child does is special and amazing.  And of course it is important that they remind us all how wonderful it is to be a mother and how much they love their child.  In case we weren't sure about it.  Those discussions that have long been reserved for between mothers (and I am sure are important and necessary conversations) such as how much sleep or number of naps throughout a day, how cute they are holding a book and how much they weigh are now opened up to all of us, even if we do not want to be a part of it.  The solidarity between mothers has extended beyond the mother's group or specific online forums to include everyone and anyone.  This may seem cold and heartless but I am blaming an increasing desensitising of excitement over the children of my friends on a saturation of these child-focussed statuses.  I am reading so many of them that those that really deserve a status mention get lost among the trivial and the bragging.  

I am not suggesting that people don't write statuses (I still write them) but I am just suggesting that people refrain from being so quick to status update everything.  Just take a moment to think about why you are posting a status.  Who would really want to read it?  Can they receive the message via another form (SMS or in person)?  And think, if someone else wrote that same status, would you want to read it?  A little bit of filtering before posting would ensure that statuses have more purpose and relevance.  And then maybe we go back to enjoying the moment for what it is, not what it'd read like in a news feed.

Blog Guilt vs Freedom from the Internet

I've got so many musings I want to post on this blog..one of course is the fabulous subject of "Winning" (you know the one, you break up with someone and you're never really free because at the end of the day you want to 'Win').  So I suffer from Blog Guilt.  Yes, although I WANT to write on the blog, I find it hard to get the chance (which I will explain why in the next paragraph) so I suffer from the guilt for not contributing.

On the other hand, I don't have internet at home...hard to grasp the concept I know.  The only time I access the internet is in my lunch breaks at work (two days a week) - if I have time.  Now this is choice.  Last birthday hubby said he wanted to get me a laptop and internet for my birthday.  I thought about it and it really hit me how much I love the freedom of NOT having the internet ie. feeling like I 'should' check Facebook namely (I also really wanted a pair of not necessary leather boots so opted for that).  I love that I get in contact with Friends, old and new, if I need to via Facebook and other mediums.  However, I am also enjoying the old school of not having the internet at my fingers and information overload.  Ignorance really is bliss!

So I suffer from blog guilt due to restrictions on when I can write something, but at the same time love the freedom of not having the internet close at hand....its a strange balance!

Childhood memories

This anecdote to me symbolises the laughter between friends.  Then, now and always!  It is a true story.

A puddle.  Small and shallow but unmissable.  In the middle of the trampoline. 

The trampoline had been a great source of entertainment since my sister and I had received it as a Christmans present.  Large black rectangle, surrounded by springs that either gave you an electric shock or caught the hairs on your legs if you dared get on or off.  Certainly no safety padding.  The skill was getting on and off without slipping between the springs and bars and 'knackering' yourself.
Hours were spent alone or in pairs (sometimes braving groups of three) jumping, doing tricks, double-jumping (a cruel but funny tactic against your fellow jumper).  Unintentional exercise.  My cousin Naomi and I would spend endless hours on the trampoline.  Jumping till our legs were jelly then sitting in the middle, quietly bobbing up and down while we chatted.  And laughed.  Telling jokes and stories that would set us off into uncontrollable fits till we were breathless.  Then we'd stop, look at each other and start all over again.
One of these particular days, as the trampoline was growing old with visible fading and stretching in the middle, we were once again caught in the grips of laughter when Naomi suddenly stopped.  Her face went from a wide grin to one of shock and slight panic. 
"Uh-oh."
"What?" I asked, coming to a slow chuckle.
"Um..." 
She didn't have to say anything.  The reason for her shock and panic became obvious as she slowly stood up (clumsily - it's hard to stand up gracefully on a trampline).  Underneath her was a puddle.  Shallow but unmissable.  A slightly yellow tinge starting to spread across the surface.  Towards me.
"Ewww...."  a combination of repulsion and laughter.  "You peed on the trampoline!"
We scrambled off that trampoline like it was a sinking ship.  No thoughts or cares of electrice shocks or knackering.  Only when we were safe on dry land were we free to let our emotions free - and the laughter flooded out. 
"Careful, we don't wnat a second puddle!"
Tne minutes later the puddle was washed away and Naomi was wearing a new and dry pair of my underwear.  No one would ever be the wiser.

Until now :)

Freckle fraud

Reporting from Turtle Bay Resort, North Shore, Oahu, Hawaii.

I do believe that I have not seen one other freckly person since I've been in Hawaii.  Did I somehow make it through some secret screening process that weeds out the 'unacceptable' skin from the others before you enter?  Did my makeup work well enough to fool them into believing I have smooth, clear skin with no freckles?  I do believe that I am a bit of a fraud here.  There are some ridiculous skin colours here.  When I say tanned skin I am talking about a whole different type of tan than the golden, healthy-glow-type of tan that is synonymous with Australia.  This is a deep, I've-spent-hours-in-the-sun, leather-looking, glistening with oil and in twenty-years-I'll-regret-this-and-look-like-an-old-handbag kind of tan.  And the worst thing is - they look fantastic!  No matter what size they are they look toned without any cellulite in sight.  They look like they belong on the beach.  They look like the sun has dropped on them softly a silky, caramel coating.  Then there's me.  For whom the sun has seen my pale canvas and just thrown the caramel at me, flicking speckles of caramel over me randomly.  Flick, flick.  Missed a spot there.  Don't forget the chest and hands.  Some larger, mole-like splotches will break it up a bit. 
As an aside, I am also in the minority by wearing hats.  They seem to be an optional extra for beach-goers here.  Especially for children.  I haven't gone further than five metres from the hotel room without some sort of hat (it also helps to hide the top-frizz of the beach hair).  On the beach this afternoon there were approximately 60 people.  I counted maybe four or five people wearing a hat.  And that is not an exaggeration.  It seems the sun-smart message has not reached these people (most who are tourists from mainland US).
Aloha!

Helpful?

I realised today that men seem to feel the need to offer solutions or solve our problems - even when we're not asking them to! 
Today I was telling a friend (and PE teacher) how sore I was after doing a Body Pump (weights) class yesterday for the first time in months.  Just sharing the pain.  However he felt the need to;
1.  Tell me why I was sore (which I had sort of guessed!).
2.  That it isn't an effective source of exercise when done once-off and is why those classes are no good (though I did point out that you have to start sometime - there is always going to be that first class).
3.  Explain to me the 'right' way to do weight training. 
I feel a bit nasty writing that because he certainly wasn't doing it a condescending way - he actually was trying to 'help' me.  But all I wanted was a little sympathy :)

Technology Peer-Pressure

Is there such thing as technology peer-pressure?  Or, more specifically, iPhone peer pressure?  I believe so.  And I believe I have succumbed to the pressure.  I had found myself at lunchtime discussions with colleagues feeling ostracised and as if somehow I was 'out-of-the-loop' with technology (is this maybe how my Mum feels all the time?  Although she has just learnt how to text...but that's another story!).  Discussing their apps, pulling their phones out to show photos, check emails, google the answer to a discussion we were having.  And they all had one.  Except me.  I could only sit there and politely nod and act as though I knew what they were talking about.  But half the time I didn't.  They were speaking another language that I could only slightly decipher.  But certainly couldn't speak myself.  I had always been fascinated with the smartphone and impressed (if not a little sceptical) of the things it can do.  However I had never felt the need to have one.  I believed I could live without it.  And then I realised that maybe I did need it.  Maybe my life wasn't complete without one.  Or at least, maybe my life could improve with one,  So I succumbed.  I bowed to the peer-pressure.  I got an iPhone.  And for the first day I had it I was the 'popular' kid at lunchtime - pulling my phone out to show them, others crowding around to show me which apps to get etc.  
I do love it (have had it for three days now) and am marvelled by the technology (my favourite is an app in which I scan the barcodes of the books I own and it catalogues them for me) but I am finding that I am spending hours searching for apps, playing games, fiddling with settings.  And I'm not sure quite yet how it has improved my life.  Maybe it has added some enjoyment (like all new toys) and apps like 'mapmyrun' and 'calorie counter' will add something to my exercising but it's not like I wouldn't still be able to do those things without the iPhone. 
I guess I shouldn't question it's need in my life but just enjoy it.  And feel satisfied that now I can contribute to lunchtime conversations - I am no longer left out!

Facebook ‘Friends”

They really should have another name for it, or at least divide the people into categories.

When I found out I was pregnant, my husband and I saw a friend of his in the supermarket.  His wife was heavily pregnant at the time, so heavily pregnant in fact, that she was a week overdue and he had commented that she had gone for long walks to try and bring the baby on.  She then came around the corner of the aisle.  I said 'Hello' and shared with her our exciting news, expecting her to be excited too.  I commented to her that hopefully their baby will come soon.  She replied with ‘I don’t want to talk about it quite frankly’ and with that walked off, leaving her husband to try and explain her rudeness.

I decided from then on to not give her any of my time.  Now this may seem harsh but I didn’t know her that well and the times I had met her she wasn’t overly friendly anyway.  It was an easy decision for me, especially as being excited as I was about such a life changing experience for us, it was quite deflating. 

So the next few times I saw her I didn’t smile, didn’t acknowledge – nothing.  I didn’t think anymore about it.

Then recently, almost a year and half later, I get a friend request on facebook from her.  What the?!

1. I’m not her friend
2. Why would she even want to be a facebook friend after the way I treated her?

Of course I added her anyway, as you do.