Getting Stuff Done

One of my plans for September was to write a daily post to Nelly's Garden and it seemed to be going fine until the 17th of the month. On that particular evening I was feeling extra tired and the very idea of dragging myself into my private, secret sitting room to write was wearisome indeed. Instead I posted this to Facebook.

Was going to write a blog post every day in September but then I got this nice bottle of red and the craic was good and I realised the internet is not the boss of me! Well, maybe Facebook is - a little bit.

Of course I thought I'd just miss the one day...

Then I read Oliver Burkeman's column in yesterday's Guardian. This paragraph resonated with me for I am always making complicated lists and plans that never succeed in the way that I'd hoped. They actually make me feel like a failure most days.

When attempts at unbending discipline fail, I turn to a post the Buddhist teacher Susan Piver wrote in 2010, entitled Getting Stuff Done By Not Being Mean To Yourself. It relates her own frustrating attempts at rigid scheduling, and the approach she chose instead: asking what she felt like doing. 

So today I did keep asking myself what I felt like doing and at one point in the mid afternoon I realised that what I really wanted to do was go to bed and nap. Which I did, and then when I got up about an hour later felt really refreshed and did lots of things without once consulting a list. And I even updated my blog.

Earlier today...

Sister and daughter 

We all went to Waterfoot for a walk on the beach.

Dogs and daughter

Facebook Strangeness

Sometimes I am amazed at the kind of things that people post to Facebook. There was the woman who threw her husband out and then, feeling sorry for herself, had rather too many glasses of wine,  got on to Facebook and produced a misspelled and incoherent rant about how he hadn't paid her for her birthday present and he'd gone leaving her without milk in the fridge. Sad and strange. She took it down the next day but it was too late. I'd seen it. But I was ashamed to have seen it and now I don't look at her posts.

Then there are the people who conduct family feuds on the site. Not surprising that they cannot get on with their family. Disparaging an ex-partner on social media? Not cool. Especially if there are children involved.

Sharing content from other sites that spread bullshit? I've probably done that myself but I wouldn't make a habit of it. It's not difficult to do a little background research before you post and it will keep your more discerning Facebook friends (like me) from thinking you a complete eedjit. And unfriending you.

But tonight I came across a post that stunned me. It's a guy, I don't really know him, from America - friend of a friend. He's lying on his back speaking into his phone. He looks so strange, telling some people that he loves them and that he is having a heart attack! He thinks he might be dying. Facebook is a strange animal. There be me - sipping a coffee, nibbling on a biscuit and there be him, mortally unwell, an ocean away and filming himself on a hospital trolley.

I hope he recovers. I won't unfriend him. For as far as I know he's not a Trump supporter. And I certainly won't be linking this post to my Facebook account.

Oh I forgot to mention, the woman who makes vague accusations that her parents murdered her brother. I stopped looking at her posts too.

Like and Share

There was one of those happy/sad videos on Facebook this morning and I watched it, got happy/sad then shared. The video featured a young man in New York City going up to complete strangers who were scoffing pizza, explaining that he was hungry and asking for a slice. He got nothing but refusals.

Then the film showed another young man buy an older homeless man a box of pizza which the older man accepted with gratitude. The first man, the slice beggar, approached the homeless man as he was enjoying his pizza, sat down beside him, explained that he was hungry and asked for a slice. Without any hesitation the homeless man proffered a slice. The beggar sat down beside the man, thanked him and they ate together. When the beggar had finished he gave the homeless man a sum of money, thanked him and left. The homeless man put his face in his hands and wept. I almost wept myself. Then I shared. As did one and a half million other people.

Then I found myself thinking about the film, about how it was most probably heavily edited to make the point the film makers wanted to get across. And the point they were trying to get across was that helping others is a good thing for it makes everyone feel good. In the long run they just wanted the shares. The pizza beggar was wearing a shirt that advertised a film making company. It was a sweet message and a manipulative one, and one that did little actual good. It seems that nowadays sharing something on social media is even better than actually doing anything that helps. We get to feel good about ourselves without making the least bit of effort.

I wonder if the homeless man was even real.

Social Networking Gone Wrong

When the comedian Russell Brand was married to the pop singer Katy Perry, he took a morning photograph of her that showed her all bleary-eyed, tousle-haired and cosmetic free, and then he posted it on Twitter for all the world to see. It was not a flattering picture. I dare say Brand found it hilarious at that moment but he quickly thought again and took it down. But it was too late. By then the world had got hold of it and Brand had shown us all that Miss Perry looked pretty ordinary without the slap and that he was a first-class pillock. He shouldn't have done it. He betrayed his wife's trust. It's all too easy with instant networking to do the wrong thing, to make a fool of yourself, to trample over your own and other people's privacy.

Like lots of people I have friends on Facebook who aren't really friends. They are people I might have known for a long time that I don't see much of these days, people who I might stand and have a quick chat with if I meet them at the supermarket but not really people I yearn to socialise with. These are people whose numbers are not in my phone. And now I know too much about them.

Take the woman whose husband has left her - she goes on Facebook on a Saturday night, probably with a bottle of wine in her, and she has a ill-written, misspelt rant about him. She is addressing him directly and what she is saying is not for the eyes of  her Facebook friends. They might judge, they might decide that perhaps her ex was well out of it. They might cringe. And afterwards they'd feel soiled that they read this, this thing they never should have read. The next morning the rant was gone but it was too late.

Then today I saw a photograph on Facebook of a woman asleep. Her partner had published it without her knowledge. It was not a flattering picture. It was cruel of her partner to have posted it and I told him so. Soon afterwards I got a private message from him. It was rather cheeky. I used the private messaging to tell him exactly what I thought of his actions then logged out and went to call on a real friend, a friend who wouldn't have a clue what social networking is even though she's only 78 years old. I told myself if my Facebook 'friend' responded to my message in a rude or uncaring manner that I would banish him. I was looking forward to banishing him. When I got back I took a look and he appeared to be repentant. The photograph of his partner had been removed. But it was too late.

He didn't get banished today. But he will.

Be Aware!

Despite reports that Facebook is losing ground, especially in the United States, it still seems ubiquitous here in the Old Countries. Everybody, the world, his wife and the oul' Granny is on it. The young ones are mad for it with their weird txtspk (which I despise) and, if it used to be that people were cool if they were on it, now it seems they're even cooler if they're not. So obviously I'm not cool.

Social networking can be elevating and depressing in equal measures.

I was recently most depressed to find on checking out Facebook that a young acquaintance of mine had just been punched in the face by her delightful boyfriend and there she was on the internet telling everyone about it. I suppose there was an element of name and shame going on there but if that was the case it was lost on me as I don't know the arsehole. What depressed me was that she felt she had to go on the internet to look for support. Where were her family, her real friends? I'm afraid I did not comment and I may have to defriend. I feel real sympathy for her but I don't know where she lives, I don't have her number and I'm not her friend. What's the point of me knowing?

Then there was another young friend who status-updated her happy thoughts on her impending marriage. It was, and she admitted this, rather cheesy. I felt that other, less happy people might have been upset by her smug-about-to-be-marriedness and thought two things. Quit it! Learn to spell!

To balance out this negativity and blahness I had a private message from a young woman who I'd known as a child and the sentiments she expressed gave me a glow that lasted all day.

Finally, and this is something to beware of - if you die in a tragic accident, accidentally run over your mum, get arrested for murdering patients in a hospital or piss on a war memorial it will be that wacky profile picture from some social networking site that will find it's way into the papers. Think on.

A List

So. I did this application thingy on Facebook which computed the words I used most frequently in my 2010 status updates.

It was interesting.

1. Bert. Which is just as it should be. Blood ties mean a lot, an awful lot. But one’s life partner is the most significant tie of all, most especially if it’s somebody like Bert.
2. Martha. Back to blood ties. One’s children are delightful but there is a freedom and a delight about grandchildren that is different. Miss Martha – the most adorable, delightful person that I have met this century.
3. Bees – they are sleeping now.
4. Sleep. Something I don’t think I get enough of. Apparently people who sleep a decent amount are generally not as fat as those who don’t. Yet again that could be the junk food. I’m sure that eating properly would help me to sleep better. Hopefully will do better in 2011.
5. Honey. I do like honey but after two years of beekeeping still haven’t got any.
6. Forward. Only way to go really. In 2011 I am all for moving forward. This will mean leaving some folks behind. Somehow I think they will manage without me.
7. Pigs. What can I say? They taste good, they are good. To Zoe, Katy and Hannah my apologies for casting Swine before Pearls.
8. Love. I do. Love you. I do.
9. Hannah. And no mention of the other two despite Katy giving me a son-in-law in 2010 and Zoe a grandchild in 2009. See 8. Hannah was here. She got mentioned.
10. Evening. I’m normally a morning person but mornings were generally taken up with certain folks who paid me to give them up. Hence evenings were better, Roll on a time when Mornings are Mine!

Facebook Is For Messagin' Not Just For Wordscrapin'

I've only recently started to avail of Facebook's instant messaging application. I found myself having a laugh with the delightful Miss E of Vancouver town as recently as late last night. It was nearly bedtime for me - but she was fresh as a daisy for sure.

I also had a brief interchange last night with Beowulf (we talked dogs and Ikea furniture) and tonight I've been discussing lipstick and tattoos with Mr Damien Mulley.

So tell me this, experienced peeps...

What is the polite way to break off a real time exchange, bearing in mind that I'm only supposed to be on the computer a few minutes at a time (hah!) as I have dishes to wash, old ladies to attend to, cakes to bake, books to read and husbands to smile at invitingly?

Facebookin'

I owe Dan Tobin of Surgical Strikes for inspiring this post. In case you’re wondering he’s the only person I ever begged to be Facebook friends with me that actually gave in. What I like about Dan, apart from his awesome sense of humour, spot-on writing skills and innate decency, is his compassionate, kindly heart.

I have 60 Facebook friends. There are 24 among them that I’ve never met in real life. Thirteen of that 24 are blogfriends.

I suspect that at least two of the 24 I’ve never met don’t actually exist.

I’ve played Scrabulous with 16 of my Facebook friends.

Thirteen of my Facebook friends are also my Flickr contacts.

Eight of my Facebook friends are related to me by blood. Three more are in my extended family. One of the three is my ex-husband. All my children are my Facebook friends and two of my six siblings.

I’ve only worked with two of my Facebook friends although I am friends with my current boss’s wife. None of my former school or college friends are Facebook friends with me. Boo hoo! But one previous tutor is.

I’ve known 14 of my Facebook friends for over 20 years. Six of the 14 are my children, siblings and ex-hubby. Two others I found through Facebook after having been out of touch for more than 20 years.

I’ve babysat seven of my Facebook friends. This number doesn’t include my three daughters but it does include one sibling.

Nineteen of my Facebook friends have slept in my house. Of those seven have shared my bed. Six platonically as only one of those was married to me. None of my former lovers are my Facebook friends. Neither is my present beloved.

I’ve stayed with fifteen of my Facebook friends and shared a meal with 27 of them. I’ve had drinks or coffee with eight of the rest. I’ve taken drugs with 18 of my Facebook friends but it’s been a good while since that happened. I’m fairly sure some of them might still be up for it.