Facebook: I'm lovin' it?

I can't believe I've gone a whole two months without a single mention of the genius that is FACEBOOK! Shame on me.

It's quite the hoot isn't it? What can you not do with it? Care to give the ego a bit of a boost by having a look at the number of friends you've accumulated? Find a childhood playmate perhaps? Or maybe even stalk an old ex (or a new one for that matter).

Facebook really is the 'social networking site' it brags to be; thanks to this Zuckerberg-send i've managed to track down a staggering amount of old friends I thought I might've just lost for good. What's not to love in all those groups, photo tagging options, and innumerable networks?  And the privacy options...what a treasure! Keeps prying extended family members at bay, and disallows creepy-stalker types from perving over your profile page. 

However, although most of us might possess the sanity to keep our 'FB' activity comparatively low-key...there are always those who take it to ridiculously new levels.

1,000 friends?? Nobody's that 'popular'! And what's with the gazillion applications?? Having to locate just plain-old 'wall' among the super-wall, fun-wall, and supercallifragelistic-wall is too tedious when all i want to do is say 'Hey! How've you been?'

And those random-out-of-the-blue friend requests!. 'Complete Stranger has just sent you a friend request.' If you've got mutual friends, it's probably just memory-lapse on your part..someone you've met once and can't quite recall, maybe? But when you've got no friends in common with this person from the Antartica network who's looking for 'random play'...the 'decline' button is clicked almost involuntarily.

But when it comes down to the nitty-gritty (pardon the ghastly cliche'), one or two facebook peeves are just as easily smothered by an avalance of it's pets, very much like that irritating jam-layer in your chocolate cake...you'll eat it all the same. 

Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a TextTwirl game pending.

Cheers.

 

 

The Green Goblin

Apparently there are some things that just aren't done. Ordering the Chicken Caesar Salad at Mc.Donalds for instance.

Frankly, I don't quite understand what the fuss is all about. I just felt like eating healthy for a change, and they did have the salad on the menu.

'I'll have the chicken caesar salad please!'

'The what?'

'The chicken salad??'

'Oh..yea..sure.' *looks at me strangely as he reaches for my order from the back of the refrigerator*

So I think my salad looks great..the lettuce is all fresh and crunchy-looking, and the chicken strips seem devoid of any trace of oil, fat, grease or any other lard'ish counterpart. Little did I expect that my fellow diners would 'look' a 'great' deal as well!

I started feeling the eyes on me as I walked my tray back to my seat. The curious 'watcha-got-there?' folks were intrigued to find out what was so astoundingly green on my tray. And as I sat down, the couple at the next table stared unabashedly for a good 5 minutes, then went on to whisper to each other oh-so-obviously. And I know those weren't 'sweet-nothings' they were exchanging.

Already feeling like I had broken some sort of code of conduct, I proceeded to scatter on my croutons, sprinkle my pepper and squeeze out half of my salad dressing ( I want dressing on my salad, not salad on my dressing!). And just when I was starting to get used to the occassional double-takes of tray-bearers passing my table, a sweaty faced kid, fresh from the play area decided to come to a halt just next to me..and stare.

She stared at my salad, then stared at me...and then back at my salad again. I don't think the poor thing's ever been exposed to anything that's not in a bun..or not fried. I might as well have been feeding on a horse carcass off my table..and grown horns to boot.

I obviously ignored the girl; I've learnt from experience that you can never out-stare a child. Either way, I began to question what was on my plate myself. Who orders a salad at McDonalds anyway?

But my dinner tasted as fabulous as it looked (a penny for everytime I hear that line in another conversation), and was worth every double take and curious glance it racked up. So the next time I pay a visit to good ol' Ronald, I might just order the same thing!

And maybe even..*gasp*..just the garden salad!!

Cheers.

Vanity Affair

It's true when 'they' (some sort of secret authority figure) say that you never realize the value of something, until it's taken away from you. Be it a pet, electricity, mirror....yes, mirror.

Having recently purchased a new cupboard for my room, i've had to detach my full-length mirror from the wall, and keep it aside until the handyman came around (it's a big job alright, holes have to be drilled and stuff!).

And oh, how deprived I have been! Putting aside the need for a reflective surface to pop my lenses in (I manage with my compact), what about all my other mirror necessities??

Where else am I am supposed to look while crooning along to Colbie Collait into my mike-slash-hairbrush? And how on earth am I ever going to find out if my ass looks big in that dress? Or if those shoes match with my purse? And that ghastly contraption (the weighing scale) is not always the best opinion when it comes to weight loss/gain y'know!!

So until that beloved looking-glass of mine finds it's way back onto my wall, i'll just have to assume that I weigh a 100kgs and that my tush is size of a planet in anything I wear!

Cheers.

Survival of the Fittest

I don't know the exact phrase, but apparently 'they' say it's money that brings out the worst in people. I say it's traffic.

Not that i'm a officially lisenced (yet), but being on the passenger seat is proof enough. Sort of a sympathy versus empathy thing happening.

Horns will honk loud enough to surpass the sound barrier, and fenders will not just touch, but merge into one!

For those on a schedule, or a hurry to get someplace there's a whole other story altogether. The most meek of individuals will discover they have a vocabulary so colourful that it'll put a rainbow to shame. As for the frequent swearer's, they'll accumulate enough swear-miles to buy themselves a house!

Chivalry dies a merciless death and road-courtesy is an extinct phrase. A certain finger is brandished as the weapon of choice, and the common temperament is enough to make the chirpy baby in the 'baby-on-board' sticker cry.

Mini-coopers give Hummers a run for their money, and fresh-faced motorists 'cut' past the veterans of the road.

Blood pressure's rise above doctor's orders, and even the cheery radio jockeys are too irritating to bear.

But once that bout of jam is surpassed, and only smooth riding is foreseen, we breathe again. A smile slowly seeps in, and that rock-solid exterior turns into mushy, pleasant again. Until the bell for the next round sounds..all's well with the world.

Cheers.

The Decline of the Personal Statement

Everyone's going on about how technology is making our lives so much easier; everyday appliances almost eliminate the term 'chore', and communication has bridged the divide on a whole other level altogether.

Before the advent of the telephone (let alone it's cellular equivalent), snail-mail was the popular choice (for lack of any other alternative) for keeping in touch. Much before that were the effective usage of homing-pigeons, but let's just not get into that.

So anyway, post; the good old pony express. For an 8-year old I don't think anything else can quite match the thrill of recieving a hand written letter from a pen-pal, or an actual greeting card on your birthday. Sifting throught the letters in your not-so-virtual inbox was like waiting for an acceptance letter...everyday. And seeing your name on the envelope was the cream on the cake.

And then came the e-mail. At first it was exhilarating, sure. But eventually the excitment died down. Typing in your password and waiting for the entire contents of your inbox to pop up on the screen could never be as exciting. The mystery of the letter's substance was exposed with the 'help' of the subject box, or the sneak preview. Much like the friend who couldn't wait for you to watch the movie, so did you a 'favour' by revelaing the end.

Birthday and congratulatory cards sent via signals were just viewed and not felt. Sort of like the 'Look, but don't touch' sign at an art gallery.

Concern is now expressed through mail-forwards warning you of cancerous products, and emotions have been substituted with 'emoticons.' 

Texting has replaced the need for actual calling, and now Facebook has replaced the need for actual texting. 

It's true when they say that one day this planet will be taken over and run by robots. Those automatons they're talking about...that's us. 

Cheers.

A Tribute To Levi Strauss

Jeans/denim (as defined by urbandictionary.com):        - a girls best friend; simple, comfortable, cute, classic, completely wearable and flattering on anyone.                                                                                                                                          - the working man's leather.

The title is an obvious give-away. But for those who haven't quite figured it out yet, this post is dedicated to the one man who achieved the impossible; combining fashion with comfort.

I think I speak for everyone (and I mean everyone) when I say that denim is a revolutionary piece of clothing. I don't think I know of anyone in my generation who doesn't own a pair (at least), and i'm quite sure the majority of the older folks have found them equally versatile. Even babies are made to don them, without even having learnt to walk!

I suppose it's the fact that they're so flexible (I mean jeans, not babies). We've really got it made. Skinnies, Bell's, Staright cut, Boot cut, Capri's and Shorts. It's almost as though Coco Chanel and Monsieur Strauss had some sort of a thing going on. And I'm not just speaking on behalf of womankind here; the boys get their empty palette as well. Choosing their size and shade of blue is quite the power struggle. 

I personally own 3 pairs; skinny, everyday wear and a pet pair that I wear at will. Pretty much everything else I own is meant to go with either of the 3 choices.

Emergency outing? Just slip into a pair (no ironing necessary) and a matching crease-free top will just as easily follow.Night out with friends? Glam top, a pair of heels, and of course..the darker denims. I'm not dishing out fashion advice here, I'm just trying to highlight the ease with which we are able to take for granted, owning a pair of those miracle pants.

The way we wear our denims have evolved over the decades. The hippie loving bell-bottoms of the 70's to the high-waisted ones of the 90's. And now the 00's have heralded in the crisp, snug-fit.

It's pretty fascinating...try doing the same with any other pair of pants. I highly doubt it.

Cheers

For Real!

Now that my exams are done with, of late i've been submitting myself to the idiot box quite willingly; I don't have a consience to answer to anymore.      

                                                           

So I was channel-surfing this afternoon when i came across this utterly rubbish excuse for a valid TV program. It was this reality show (shocker) that tested a group of worthy individuals and determined finally who was to be crowned the best..pirate!! Seriously..seriously??

I can't say i'm anti-reality television..they're quite the entertainment source. And I unabashedly admit that i'm a devotee of the likes of American Idol and Hell's Kitchen.

But of late it seems that the television production business is a rat race of desperation. Reality shows are getting more and more absurd by the day.                                                                       

I'm terribly wary of the concept of Wife Swap (self-explanatory), and the likes of The Apprentice and The Bachelor seem like very publicly blown-up examples of everyday challenges; in this case a job interview and singles-night respectively.

But then again..it's a reflection of the viewers isn't it? If a gazillion people show interest in the aforementioned pirate picker, then that must mean there's some sort of demand. Either that, or there are worse shows out there, and this one's the lesser of the two evils.

It's intriguing to see what they'll come up with next though. Watch out for the season debut of Knicker Knitter everyone!! 

Cheers.