Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Twittstasnapface.

How can any person with an active life keep track of so many different types of social media accounts?  It's not possible.  People are choosing to socialize virtually, or be present in their physical existence.  Watching people get sucked into the many apps, and feeling them disconnect from me, as they connected further with the online world.  
It's craziness.  It's just craziness. 

The more apps people use, the more I stopped seeing eyes, when I wanted to talk to someone, and instead faces set aglow by screen light.  had any positive use:  as in, if it were never invented, we might actually engage with other people in more healthy ways.  Who needs more than email and instant messaging?  I've refrained from all that stuff for so long, though I have this blog, (which very few people read, I'll remind you... You, just you).  FB is okay, although it is also cumbersome at times.

I have only had a few gmail accounts, and FB for several years.  I didn't know how I could possibly keep track of anything else... My head would be spinning, I thought... 

Oh, and it did.

You see, I did end up trying out Twitter, and Instagram, in an attempt to understand these people around me, who barely put their smartphones down. (Snapchat just scares me.  Please, I just can't... I can't..).  Anyway, the purpose and appeal of the apps alluded me, but I decided I should investigate.

Aaaaaaa, it was insanity.  What the hang?!  Let me out!  

I resurfaced from the tide of 0s and 1s.  I got away.  I deleted the accounts for both T and I, within a few days of engaging in the activity each one required.  I commented on pictures.  I retweeted and tweeted.  It was terrifying. Twitter, was just a mess from the very first log in.  I found myself  talking to strangers about what is the best substitute for soymilk in a healthy smoothie?  I wanted to log out and get away from the madness.  I couldn't stop, though.  I ended up so frustrated by rapid-fire-rejections of Almond milk, that I suggested human breast milk. That was a turn that I wasn't prepared for.  "Just use freaking Almond milk, you know?"  I couldn't help but reply to rejections of Almond milk because of its "trendiness."  That's why I mentioned breast milk, and because who wouldn't just drink almond milk!  Yet, then I was being told that breast milk wouldn't be economical.  And I was defending what "we" were capable of:  I meant the female ability to make copious amounts when necessary, not that we would ever pimp out our boobs for smoothie stores.  
Yes.
 I'd lost control of that conversation.  
Get me out of here, I thought.  I had to remind myself that I was speaking to someone who didn't know me, wouldn't know me, and would not remember our twitter exchange about human mammary glands. 
Yes, I still felt exposed. 
Whew. 
Delete that account. 

I could now confirm the time suck these apps were.
I don't have a formal job right now, and I could barely keep track of all of that craziness.  How can anyone with a family, or who is employed full time maintain multiple online statuses?  I've even tried getting the heck off Facebook, a few times, but that never works out so well.  People think I've blocked them, or I'm dead, or people tagged in pictures I had posted suddenly don't get to have those photos in their album... or my comments on their photos are suddenly gone, so it looks like they had a conversation with themselves, and that's just awkward.

And I get it.  I've had that happen to me, the friend deleting her account, and her comments were deleted too.  It was awkward.   In that one example was under a photo Sam posted of my son and I pretending to surf on a boogie board on the beach a few summers ago.  I'm in a bikini. My friend commented: "Holy Abs, Joanna!" Then after I responded she said, "You're amazing.  You always look amazing."  However, when she deactivated her FB account, her comments weren't just grayed out, they were gone. 

I don't usually look at photos of myself, so it was quite a while before I came across that picture again, and oh my, it looked like I was just commenting on my own body: "They look more pronounced than they are.  I don't have a crazy six pack or anything," then, "No, you're amazing, lady."  You see how that's a bit weird to read those comments, written by myself, under a photo of me, which clearly seem to be stating I think my abs are worth pointing out, then I'm telling myself I'm amazing, third person.  Oh. 

Yeah. Luckily most of these social media sites are for individuals' personal egos.  If one has accounts on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook, who really is most closely paying attention to what that person is saying most of the time.  It's them.  They are the ones who are paying the most attention. I mean, really: It's personal time, (so much time), spent by individuals...  On their self-image.

Social media sites are encouraging (or more frighteningly not) people to consider how to phrase something, or think about what profile picture speaks to their mood or personality/yet also also makes them look attractive at the same time?  I mean...  It's really a lot of work to be charming in social media.  Charming in every way.  Every way charming.  


Like, right?

Look how clever I am in only 140 characters.

I can't sunbathe and not take a picture from my knees down, manicured feet included in foreground near the pool or on the beach, because, duh, that's a cute angle if I kind of point my toes, and flex my calves.  Nice.  



What's the freaking point of doing fancy, contortionist yoga poses just for my own health benefit? I'm going to Instagram that shit.  Everyone is going to tell me I'm unbelievable, and super hot.  That's right! Acroyoga, bitches! None of you can do this shit.  


Youtube!  Let me humbly sing in my bedroom with my guitar, and post videos...  But, um, yeah, I can sing!  Listen to me sing those covers!  I will get discovered and I'm famous!  Famous!  I can apply makeup so great.  Watch me and learn.  Learn and watch.  I  get free "hauls" from skincare and makeup companies, and test their products and tell you all about them.  I'm hilarious!  Oh, gosh, especially when my pet just jumps up in front of the camera.  It's so adorable.  Bad kitty.  Where was I? 

Aaaaaaa!  #Selfies!    


("My hair is sooooo cute today, and I'm driving, but look how cute my hair is!" Ducklips, and peace fingers at red light... So cute.  Love it!  Oh, not red light, I think... Oops, green light. My bad.  #caraccident. Love my new highlights!") 

"I'm an amazing parent! Watch this adorable video of me interacting with my children. I'll even vlog about it.  Being a parent is really tough, but you just have to love your children unconditionally and feel blessed that they are part of you.  Blessed by my amazing children." (#Ilovemychildren #amazingparent!).  


#Workingonmyfitness...  "Trying to get in shape for summer, y'all"  See my abs, and workout outfit? I'm totally not in shape, but I totally feel comfortable in a sexy sports bra, yoga legging ensemble.  


Sigh...

I bet most people wouldn't be motivated to do a lot of the healthy things we do, if we didn't get to digitally brag about it, and show how good we look doing it, or because we've done it, or just, like... You know. Who climbs Mount Everest and doesn't tell anyone about it?  How many famous people do humanitarian work in secret?  Remember that quote from The Catcher in the Rye?  Who doesn't?

It's actually Mr. Antolini quoting Wilhelm Stekel:  "The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one."
And no, Mr. Antolini does not touch Holden inappropriately, and he isn't a creeper.  I hate that analysis. Rubbing his head while he sleeps is something a parent does to their child, and you know, it doesn't seem like his mom or dad really made him feel safe and secure in the world.  Mr. Antolini seems to be the only person in Holden's life that actually understands the kid at all. Maybe I'm wrong.  I do think J.D. Salinger would tell people to stop analyzing and dissecting his writing at all.  That's right, it's as if J.D. Salinger wrote because he wanted to write, and he didn't give a damn what anyone thought about it, or want phony press or any press at all. He wanted people to leave him the Hell alone.  He wouldn't have "Twittstafaced" if he was offered hundred's of thousands of dollars...  Just never.  He never would have. 

But you have.  You did.  And you can't stop yourself, can you?  Admit it. It's true.  
Our society is dominated by a need for affirmation, (albeit, virtual ego-stroking), so individuals can feel self-worth? 

Self. 
Worth. 

Can we love ourselves, if we aren't constantly receiving "hearts" and "likes" and compliments from our online social circles?  (You know, "our friends.")   
Our friends should be openly appreciating us, right?!  Right!!!!  Of course.  Look at the pictures!  Look at those yoga poses! See how witty my words are!

"Terrible." 
 The current president of the United States, who shall not be named, is a Twitter, social-media-freak. What is this country/social reality coming to?  He-who-shall-not-be-named makes grammatical errors in his Twitter posts!  Often.  Gagging.  Blech.  Nooooooooo...

So, in this blog that somehow is public, (yet so obscure and impossible to find unless I tell ya how), I'll write that I couldn't possibly post 140 characters before I'd proofread it until my eyes crossed.  But, I realized I was wasting a whole lot of time on something that meant absolutely nothing in the scheme of human life--Not the living part. 

And, you know, I'd rather work on living in real life.  I need to work on that. 
And if that's what I should be doing, I'm thinking there are so freaking many other people who should be doing that too...

Do it. 





Look how clever I am in only 140 characters.