Saturday, January 31, 2009
And I’m aimlessly cruising Facebook; slightly bemused by the random nature of the Statuses of all of my friends living in that virtual community.
Actually, lately, I’ve been really considering the whole philosophy that lurks within the notion of the Status Post … is it really the idea that we are (culturally) amusing ourselves to death, or is there something more profound at work in our need to let everyone know what we are up to …
As I embark on a Twitter campaign for work – unpacking this voluntary-offering-up-a-GPS-of-self has me even more intrigued. But nonetheless, tonight I was scrolling through the Status Updates of my friends – the absolute variety of their experiences was stunning. A rundown is interesting —And I’m not saying this is profound, but I think there’s something more to say about …
XXX is going on a hot date tonight!!!
XXXX is wiped.
XX shoveled 18in of snow off the entire driveway, sidewalk, and deck. It is now clear to move in.
X was on tv. haha!
XXX wonders if there's a special prize if you get 2 seasoning packets in your ramen noodles?
XX is playing hide and go seek with America's economy, and its a good hider.
X is glad that his 3-yr-old daughter is finally home from the hospital after a long ten days!
XX is laughing it up.
XXX It's never too late to realize what's important in your life--and to fight for it.
And then … a student wonders if there is anyone out there for her, because she has this feeling she’s unwanted.
Well. That makes you stop and wonder.
The Facebook Status – the awkward, honest-yet-contrived overview of your cross-section of American-Global life, all in a matter of seconds.
Google it - and countless blogs are already pondering the theory - and countless authorities are already defining the update addiction so many Facebookers must be confronting.
I don’t know that I have anything to say about this – necessarily … but, it seems to me that the flocking of American culture to Facebook and the need to update one’s status on an hourly, daily, monthly, minute-ly moment is somehow akin to the classic “cry for help.”
That’s, too dramatic, but the question is: for whom do we post our status?
Self? Others? … I honestly am not sure about my own response to that question.
And I guess the deeper issue is, truly, is anyone actually paying attention …
Sunday, January 25, 2009
“Great idea. What about?”
“I don’t know.”
“Something funny happened this weekend.”
“How about you talk about our house hunt?”
So went the casual chat in the Jameson living room ... about 5-minutes ago.
I'm lounging here in my favorite chair, watching the (using Leon’s words) “Something Templar” on NBC; drinking a lovely glass of Estancia Pinot Grigio; and contemplating a bubble bath.
This is what I would call an absolutely ideal Sunday evening.
I wish I could say that I have more to … say tonight. But, I don’t’. And how tremendous that the Internet allows me to simply blabber on about nothing simply because I want to—ah, communications in the 21st century. There’s probably an insightful blog in there, but not for me tonight.
Truthfully, I have nothing of anything resembling an epic insight to share (not that I really ever do … but at least I put forward a good front).
Although, Leon just tossed out the "how about Sydney throwing her food for the last two days ... there's a blog in there." And he's probably right, but-again-not tonight.
I simply felt like sending out a hello to the “void.” Well. Not so much the void, but to those folks who often say, “I follow your blog.” (Leave comments – we like those!) To those folks, I feel a need to say something new – and what is that line from You’ve Got Mail … “The odd thing about this form of communication is that you're more likely to talk about nothing than something."
But all those somethings can truly add up.
At any rate, tonight is a peaceful, routine evening; and for that I am thankful and content. The week will start bright and early, and it’s moments such as these that give me the “umph” to tackle it with true energy.
Onward and Upward!
Monday, January 12, 2009
by Langston Hughes
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
Well. That's a bit morose for a Monday evening.
Not to be too terribly dramatic or melancholy about it all, but Leon and I thought we had our dream home in our sights—only to be thwarted. Long story, and it may still work out. Here’s to hoping this is a syrupy sweet story and not a rotten meat story. Yeesh.
I called the house the “Father of the Bride” house, and not only because it was this rambling colonial. But it had that whisper about it—"settle here and raise your kids and welcome them back when you’re old and grey". I'm a bit of a sucker for that whisper.
I’m trying to determine what has me so set on finding that particular house—“the” house as it were. I think it truly is wrapped up in that idea of rootedness, connection, and the allure of the familiar. I like those concepts, even as much as I love exploring new places, eating adventurous foods, and traveling to distant locations. It’s the knowledge that what is certain waits that makes the unknown so vast and compelling.