Hey you.
Are you the one from Oxford googling me?
Yeah I’m talking to you.
I don’t mind. Not yet, anyways.
But do me a favour and keep it on the down low, y’know?
Writing about all the embarrassing and humiliating stuff that goes on in my life is hard enough when it’s read by complete strangers.
Carry on, then.
Today, I did the unthinkable.
I did something I said I’d never do.
I joined Facebook.
Yeha. I did. I can’t go back and undo it now.
“Suddenly, when all your friends have been reduced to teensy avatars, canned quotations, and endless ‘favourites’ lists, they don’t seem quite as special as you may have once remembered them.”
The problem with Facebook is that it’s sort of like having a relationship with a cheap hooker. Or at least, how I always imagined it to be. It’s cheap, quick, and I suppose, the overwhelming sense of satisfaction afterwards is enough to override any residual feelings of guilt you may have had going into the whole mess.
On the other hand, there’s nothing particularly special about it. In the long run, it’s just not that satisfying.
There’s an uncomfortable disconnect when you use Facebook. For one thing, the site is designed to shed light on people’s personal lives. It’s suppose to reveal everything you’d want to know about your friend, your friend’s friend, or (more likely) that girl you met the other night. It’s supposed to connect people.
But because the information is so effortless and so unkempt, it fights against the very purpose it was designed to do!
It becomes impersonal.
Suddenly, when all your friends have been reduced to teensy avatars, canned quotations, and endless ‘favourites’ lists, they don’t seem quite as special as you may have once remembered them.
So I’m updating my profile and I see several options about Current Relationships.
I frown very slightly, check ‘Single’ (because I am), and check all the boxes under ‘Looking for…’, which includes ‘Friends’, ‘Relationship’, ‘Dating’, ‘Random Play’ (play what?), and ‘Whatever I can get’ (what does that mean?).
Hey, I’m not picky.
Immediately, a cutesy heart shows up on my profile along with, ‘Phil is listed as single’.
What the hell?
It’s not that I’m not single (I am), nor is it that I’d be terribly disappointed if I were to catch the eye of say, a gorgeous, leggy girl that mommy would wildly approve of. It’s rather the fact I want to be able to say, “Phil is listed as single but…”
I need that ‘but’.
That ‘but’ is the story of my life. That ‘but’ is so I can tell riveting stories about my tragic singleness and my unyielding search for Ms. Right.
The ’single’ part — pssh — that’s just the title. The ‘but’ part, that my friend, that’s the journey.
The bottom line is, we all have our own wants and needs. We all have intriguing stories to tell and life-defining experiences to relive. But what’s important is that we should all aspire to tell it our way.
Facebook is like that girl who comes to the party dressed in the low cut blouse, skirt showing off everything, and well, wearing nothing much else. You know who I’m talking about.
She walks in. We all gape. Eyebrows hit the ceiling. Jaws hit the ground. And that’s about it.
Because, really, it’s just a turnoff. When someone goes to such lengths to bare all, there’s nothing left of interest. There has to be an air of mystery. There has to be room for imagination.
Facebook, with it’s cheap, fast, easy, and naked virtues is that kind of girl.
So why — why in the world — would I do it?
Why would I join Facebook?
Because I’m a fucking hypocrite, okay?
Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’ve totally searched all of y’all.
So I know that you know that I know that you’re on Facebook, too.
Now go ahead and add me so you can entertain my pet polar bear, Sprinkles.
I was there buying coat hangers.
The total was £1.59, so I gave the cashier £2.09
She fiddled with the change and pushed back a penny, frowning.
“Did I give you too little?”
“No…it’s not that,” she said, “I just can’t take this penny. It’s…Canadian.”
Her emphasis on the word, ‘Canadian’ gave the impression that she was neither impressed by our easy-going charms, nor our prowess for winter sports.
I didn’t have another penny.
“But it looks the same!” I pleaded.
She shrugged indifferently.
“And you know,” I continued, undaunted, “the Canadian dollar is unusually strong these days.”
She shrugged again.
“Think of it as an investment,” I cajoled.
“Sorry,” she said, her tone indicating that she was anything but sorry. “Don’t you have a penny?”
The next customer in line rummaged helpfully in her pockets. “I have a penny for you.”
“Thanks,” I said, taking it, “And in return for your generous donation, you get this shiny, one-of-a-kind, Canadian penn–”
“–No thanks,” she said quickly.
I shrugged casually. Trying to hide my chagrin and disappointment.
I handed the penny to the cashier. Smirking.
“I’m really trying to infiltrate the British economy,” I whispered conspiratorially. “With Canadian pennies.”
She ignored me.
“Yep. One penny at a time.”
Nope. Nothing. Not even a smile.
She handed me 50 pence and my receipt.
“Thanks,” was all she said.
Tough crowd, these Brits. Really. Tough crowd.
Newton began developing his theory of gravitation before he was 20.
I’m 43, and I just figured out Heathcliff and Garfield are two completely different cats!
It’s been a good long while since I’ve talked about food.
And with school in full swing, there’s nothing students need more than a tasty home-cooked meal that’s not only dirt cheap, but more importantly, easy to make and absolutely idiot-proof.
Because we all need to save those precious brain cells for our math classes.
Here’s a classic chicken and potatoes ragou I enjoyed while growing up at home. Give it a try.
Ingredients:
1. 1 lbs of chicken (drumsticks, breast, whatever)
2. Salt, pepper, sugar, and garlic (powder or fresh)
3. 1 tbsp of vegetable oil or olive oil
4. An onion
5. Two or three potatoes
5. Two cans of (condensed) Tomato soup
6. One can of chicken broth (optional)
The Method:
1. Wash the chicken and dry it with paper towels. Then marinade the chicken for some time (overnight is best) with the following: 1 teaspoon (tsp) of salt, 2 tsp of sugar 1/4 tsp of pepper, and 1 tsp of garlic powder or fresh mince garlic.
2. Put 1 tablespoon (tbsp) of vegetable oil or olive oil into a big pot. Cut up the onion and add it to the pot. Finally, add the chicken and stir fry it all together for 10 minutes at medium-high temperature.
3. Peel and cut the potatoes in chunks and add it to the pot.
4. Add 2 cans of tomato soup.
5. Add 1 can of chicken broth or water (if you don’t have any chicken broth) and mix with the tomato soup so that it just covers the chicken and potatoes. Wait for it to boil and taste, adding some more salt if necessary.
6. Simmer at low temperature for 30 minutes until chicken and potato are tender to taste.
That makes about two big servings.
Enjoy with freshly cooked rice.
