Five years ago (nearly to the day of this writing!), a fountain pen-wielding classmate in my freshman year French class remarked during a speaking exercise, “Tu n’as pas lefacebook-dot-com? Toutes les personnes importantes sont sur lefacebook-dot-com!” Translation: You do not have thefacebook-dot-com? All of the important people are on top of thefacebook-dot-com!
His grammar was not perfect and his French accent sounded like Seth Rogen trying to do a Pepe le Pew voice, but his antiquated writing utensils and general air of peculiarity were enough to charm 18 year-old moi. I created a profile on TheFacebook that night, cautiously filling in the little boxes with the things that I thought might impress my ink-stained friend: Simon & Garfunkel, writing, sarcasm, paisley, and that quote from To Kill A Mockingbird. I woke up to an email from thefacebook team stating that Fountain Pen Boy had requested to add me as a friend. With giddy excitement, I clicked the link to confirm that we “are, in fact, friends.” My first Facebook friend! I had no idea what I was getting into with that one little click. Fountain Pen Boy came and went with that semester, but Facebook has since been ever-present. Because I am naturally (self-)conscious of how I relate to others, I suspect that I am predisposed to a fascination with the way that social networking sites affect our relationships and interactions.
I am fascinated with the way social networking sites have so rapidly become an integral part of modern society, challenging our ideas of authenticity and identity as well as adding a new dimension to representation of race, class, and gender. My interest has evolved from thoughtless participation to critical engagement. As we find ourselves performing our selves in whatever little boxes are en vogue (Facebook, for the moment), striving for inclusion in a world where social networking sites pose a reality at once united and separated from real life, it is imperative that we question the social and cultural implications of these performances.
No further explanation needed.
“The plan we’ve come up with is to remove regional networks completely and create a simpler model for privacy control where you can set content to be available to only your friends, friends of your friends, or everyone.” —
markie z ya’ll
…
But seriously. I think the “friends, friends of friends, or everyone” privacy model is a little more realistic. Our real social networks are not bound by city limits or affiliations. While proximity does figure into a lot of friendships, it is not the only factor—not to mention, I think Facebook serves the purpose of maintaining proximity-challenged relationships.
I’ve read some speculation about possible upgrades to Facebook within the next few months and I think they’re really striving to create a user-friendly, accessible tool.
On that note, I can’t help but wonder why so many people are so adverse to change on Facebook. No other website gets the kind of attention that Facebook does when prominent changes are made (perhaps Tumblr, but I think the attention largely stays ON Tumblr). If no one ever changed anything on the web, this is what we would see (and hear, ugh) all the time.
500 Days of Summer: This scene was really powerful for me and that song—Vagabond by Wolfmother—is the most present song in my head, it’s always there. And then there’s this metaphor of a clean slate has stuck with me. It’s no one’s job but my own to clean my slate. And stuff.
‘Cause I’ll tell you everything about living free…
Basically, I’m getting my shit together. Googling ‘Zooey Deschanel AND “bad hair day” OR “cold sore”’ to no avail (hypothesis: robot).
Can’t stop thinking about Lady GaGa. The lyrics/chanting to Bad Romance remind me of made-up popstar songs from books, but I can’t think of the book or exactly why. It’s like it means something but doesn’t.
Rah rah ah ah ahh
Roma ro-mah-mah
Ga ga ohh-la-la
——
Parody of popstardom? Is there something literary about Lady GaGa? Hate that I have to go to work and don’t have time to write an essay.
(Yup, just said that. Officially—if not already—a dork.)
[video]
Ain’t got time for whole metaphors!
“[…] back to the radio now. i have no shame in admitting that i like miley cyrus, whoever is writing her songs are on point. like seriously, “noddin’ my head like yeah, moving my hips like yeah” is basically crap taken out of context, but inserted in that chorus? i am throwing my hands up like yeah, cause this shit is my song. this is everyone’s song. and i want to hate taylor swift, i really do. but fuck if that girl can’t write a crappy song that gets stuck in my head. i want to be fifteen again so that song really means something to me, cause when i’m fifteen there’s nothing to figure out, taylor you know me so well. britney spears i feel you girl, but what does peter, paul, & mary have to do with threesomes? besides being a trio? or well, not anymore (pouring one out for you mary). i say whatever, cause again it’s another pop song that gets stuck in my head and i grew to love it. 1, 2, 3. […]” —
DITTO @ the whole post, but I especially loved this paragraph.
As my iTunes top 25 has begun to feature mostly mainstream radio songs, I’ve thought now and again what accounts for my change in taste. I grew up listening to oldies on the radio (mostly 60s, early 70s—today Oldies radio is usually “the best of the 80s, 90s, and today”), but my first CD was The woman in me by Shania Twain which I got for my 10th birthday. I went through my boyband (NSync) phase, but by my second year of high school I got into Green Day, No Doubt, and Weezer who is still a favorite today. U2 and Fleetwood Mac and 70s folk-pop were in heavy rotations as well.
Back then, I dyed my hair all different colors and wore jelly bracelets. I bought secondhand clothing at the Salvation Army and got Buddy Holly glasses. They didn’t call what I was a hipster back then—it was “emo kid.” The high school mainstream didn’t really have anything to offer me—the clothes were too expensive, I didn’t play sports, I didn’t party, I liked to read and write, and I wasn’t particularly rebellious against my parents (despite my strange style which did attract emphatic looks once by a guest speaker at a rave drug assembly)—so, I declined to participate in most of it. What I needed from music when I was a teenager was understanding and reassurance. What I took from it was an identity.
I got more identity than I know what to do with these days (at least it feels like sometimes). Music is a more visceral experience than cerebral for me: I need a pulse. Times are tough and when I can’t get myself going, sometimes I need Lady GaGa to do it for me. I seek out good beats and catchy hooks and my greatest pleasure is driving with the radio up, the windows down, singing along with whatever I can find on the radio.
Forgetting Sarah Marshall on DVD at Target for $4
A crunchy taco and a chicken burrito and a Mt. Dew at Taco Bell
Black Friday is for rich people.
[video]
“The only thing I could think of was turkey neck and turkey gizzards and I felt very depressed.”
— Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
Hands down, my favorite episode of Friends.
I like working with my friend Sheena a lot. I feel like we’re both pretty earnest and maybe sort of unassuming (read: we find wit in the simple things), but also wicked sassy and we think we’re hilarious so we have fun.
Today as we were walking between buildings at work Sheena said to me “Hey did you dye your hair again? It’s darker.”
I said, “Hmm, [because obviously maybe I forgot?] nope.”
And she told me “Oh it looks cute today.”
And then I remembered: “Well, I haven’t showered in maybe like 3 days, so I think my hair gets darker when it’s dirty.”
Thankfully Sheena laughed and said “Me too!” My life is not nearly as demanding as Sheena’s but I was still relieved to hear that someone who sees me on basically a daily basis wasn’t aghast that I obviously don’t believe daily showers are an essential part of good hygiene.
I’ll be the first to say it.