Day Eight!

So, I fought with my inner conscience and cravings, and while I desperately urged for some facebook, did not give in.  Hallelujah.

But I really want to.  It's not about the thirty days any more.  I desperately miss writing stupid things on people's walls, posting photos, and commenting on the photos.  Gahhh.

That's about it.  I'm hoping that my cousin's visit will keep me distracted enough.

Day seven... what am I doing here?

I had a good friend nearly beg for my return to Facebook today, with the promise that she'd make sure that I didn't get out of hand again.  This made me contemplate what I'm actually doing here:  yes, I've quit cold turkey, but if I return after a thirty-day hiatus, and return to being just as bad as I was before, was this experiment worth it?  Am I learning anything different about myself that I wouldn't have learned while being on Facebook?  Am I keeping up my promise to myself of using this spare to time to do other fun things?  Not really.  I now blog, I now stalk my pretty much dead Myspace, and I now text more often.  Okay... so I texted a lot before, so I don't think that has changed.  But I'm still spending all of this time not on Facebook, still online, AND missing the opportunity to wish other people Happy Birthdays.  And  I LOVE wishing people celebratory birth wishes.

Perhaps I'll discover what I've been missing.  I guess the question I'm pondering is:  should I have just restricted my facebook use rather than tossing it out the window?  Does this pattern emerge anywhere else in my life (crash, hardcore calorie counting diets with no failure allowed, perhaps?).  Is this a pattern I want to continue?

Day seven.  Hrmph.

Not really interesting...

Nothing really to report here on Day 6.  I had the general cravings... and I actually had a friend call me in the wee hours of the morn’ (close to midnight, I believe) to report the comments that followed my new ex’s facebook status of our break-up.  For some reason people feel that I still need to be connected to this world, although it was my choice not to be.  They seem determined to keep me updated, either by reading posts via phone or telling me in person.  Very funny.  Though, I must say, the comments were quite delightful.

Day five... I may not go back.

It may be rather early in the game, but I'm quite happy without the book of faces.  I had a discussion with a friend last night about how addictive the social networking site really is, and how it's even worse for those who can access it on their phones.  The iPhone makes it all too easy to check it daily, hourly, every twenty minutes... etc.  We talked about how often we checked it (well, how I used to check mine) and he admitted that he probably couldn't give it up for even a week.

Makes me feel pretty good.  I really may not go back.  It doesn't bother me not knowing what other people are doing every minute of the day, and it doesn't bug me that they don't know what I'm doing.

I really am going to have to get an online album, though.

Day four... feeling good.

When life gives me lemons, I promptly slice the lemon and stick a quarter in my mouth, grin as though the peel were my teeth, and suck the sourness out of the fruit until all that remains are the rinds and that slimy, acidic taste on my chomps. “Simplify, simplify, simplify,” chants the author who preached a great word to many about living independently and then went home for dinner and cookies at his mother’s house. Granted... I love my mother’s dinner, and I love cookies. I just don’t preach simplicity... except in lemon rinds. My point in this: my simplified, free from Facebook life, plus the idea of a random adventure tomorrow equal one very happy, lemon-sucking womanchild. If life were my lemon, I’d quarter it and share it with as many friends as possible. And then I’d go home, eat dinner at mumsy’s, and bake cookies. That’s how I’m feeling about life currently.
Day four without Facebook is glorious. My co-worker and dear friend has launched the threat that I either return to Facebook or risk my mother getting friended. I told him to go ahead and friend my mama, she’ll like it. More status updates. I do miss being able to share photos, so I may create one of those free online albums. That way people can still enjoy the photos and take from them what they will. I’ll loophole a ladder into social networking; I just won’t call it Facebook. I also find that my iPhone battery lives a lot longer without me using the Facebook application nonstop: ultimately giving me more bang for my charge. Other news: I have I purple hair. Granted, the box said “black cherry.” In certain lights, black cherry is what it is. The woman who cut my hair called it “eggplant.” I like it. Sometimes it looks red. Sometimes it looks like I sucked a little too hard on a purple popsicle and the color shot up my roots like trees pulling moisture from the ground. Despite the mixed feelings from my mother, I like it. If I stop liking it, I’ll get a buzz cut. Simple. Hair is hair. I’ve got bigger fish to fry.

I apologize for the scowling appearance.  When my face relaxes it gives the impression that I'm frowning.  It was post work, I was tired, sleep deprived, and just wanted a decent picture to demonstrate color.  But hey, sort of looks black cherry in this lighting!  Woot.

Day 3 done and a pamphlet under wing

Minutes ago I finished completing the dry, painstaking pamphlet for my father. I managed to ignore the temptation of signing on to Facebook and scatter the social network with irked status updates and whiney wall posts.

I have to say, still at this point, the most irksome thing about not having facebook is not that I don't know what people are doing, but that still that my friends feel that I'm more likely to unfriend them than delete the beast. Sheesh. Was I really that much on addict? Probably.

I've had two requests to join up again, but I'm sticking through this sludge. It's quite freeing to know that only those who know me well or who care to ask know what I'm doing. Sometimes I just don't feel like sharing. As for not knowing what my friends are doing: well, that's a little irksome. But mayhaps I should just pick up the phone and inquire in person.

I am now off to get a hair cut - I am beginning to resemble a sheep dog... except less cute and drooly. Okay, maybe just less cute.

The first real struggle

I'm sitting here, attempting to edit this extraordinarily boring piece of pamphlet for an organization my father is part of (and which he volunteered me to do it before I agreed), and I’ve realized that I am now facing my first real anti-face struggle.

In the past, when I tried to delve into writing or editing, I'd open the word processor and type a few craptastic sentences, and then open the web browser and play on Facebook until I figured out which direction to take with my paper. Through this venture, I’d learn which other classmates were doing the same thing I was as I was via status updates, and in return leave panicked wall posts about not doing the work. I’d read what I could be doing and the fun I could be having if I would just finish the damned paper/project that I’m not working on. Sense the pattern? It was sort of a motivational and joint support group for procrastinators. Le sigh.

NO FACEBOOK. So I turn to blogging, not only because it’s helping to loosen my fingers, but because this is a prime example of me needing the Facebook. Gah.

And now I sit, staring at boring, almost unreadable pamphlet full of confusing history with no chronological sequence, contemplating an additional cup of coffee and a frozen Reese’s peanut butter egg.

A day without a Facebook, day two, delayed

Well, the good news is my lack of Facebooking has led me to have more of life. Or, rather, I had more of a life yesterday and had no time to pine over the loss of social networking, so I haven't missed it as much. Actually, since I decided to give up the beast, I haven't had a full day of doing nothing with no potential plans(which is odd because I generally have no life): when this hits I may be in trouble, because that's when I rely on the book for entertainment.

The most curious thing to occur with the lack of Facebook is the number of people that think I unfriended them rather than deactivated my account. I suppose this accurately displays how much time I've wasted on Facebook: if my friends, who are my main reasons for being Facebook, feel as though I'd delete them rather than deactivate... eek. It makes me feel like doing this was all for the better.

Yesterday, rather than blogging, was spent at my undergrad college with a friend, seeing The Curse of the Starving Class by Sam Shepard; depressing play, though the actors did wonderfully well. I was catching up with friends and former professors when I mentioned my hiatus of Facebook and my creation of a blog to talk about it. My professor then said "So, you gave up one social networking for another? Makes sense." My defense: "It's working on my writing more than a status update would."

And honestly, I do feel like each day without this addiction will help me in the long run... or at least strengthen my self control and lack thereof.

"I improve on misquotation. " Cary Grant

The first day without Facebook

As well as being a self-admitted coffee addict, I have a terrible, nearly incurable attraction to the social networking gig called Facebook. I waste a great many hours on there doing absolutely nothing. Granted, it does assist me with keeping track of my college and work buddies, but I spend time just staring blankly at the screen and obnoxiously posting on friend's pages. Not at all helpful for my productivity.

This lead me to start contemplating "what could I be doing if I wasn't on Facebook every free moment I have?" I came up with the following: reading more, writing more (writing at all, actually), exercise more (at least move around more), etc. Almost as if I were a smoker who realizes when she doesn't inhale as much, running is easier; a breath of fresh air filled my lungs and the free time that became available gave me a hug. The possibilities seemed endless, or at the very least promising. I then deactivated my account cold turkey and decided that I'd write about the challenges of facing this break-up. It's not easy to give up on something that has been part of your life for hours each day for the past five years.

The goal is 30 days of Facebook-free life. Granted, I don't know what I'll do when I find a good picture of me (as past reactions were "new profile pic!"), and I don't know if I'll actually use the new time given to me for anything appropriate (this is up in the air), but it's a challenge and I'm sure it'll be interesting at the very least.

This is Day 1. I've managed to repress most needs to go to the most visited website on browser, but it hasn't been easy. Safari has placed it at the top of the URL bar because it is sadly my most visited site. I've had to text funny things to friends rather than posting it on their walls. I've had to deal with my mother asking me why I've blocked her, my friend asking why I defriended him, and the disgruntled opinion of a friend who asked "who's going to post texts from last night?"

But, on the bright side, I now relish in the idea that no one knows what I'm doing. Just as I cannot stalk them, they cannot follow me, comment on my thoughts or on other people's thoughts on my wall. This part I could get used to. It's almost like forgetting my cellphone for a day. There's a peace in knowing that no one can contact me.

Take care!

Nice to meet you

I feel as though the first blog should always be an introduction, because we haven’t been properly introduced. It’s rude of me to just jump right in, as if we had talked before, and assume our kinship. You may dislike me from the beginning, but it won’t be from rudeness.

Names aren’t exactly as important as they’re made out to be - who actually uses their real name, save for important official documents? I’m more concerned with what words will find their way from my brain, travel down my nerve-endings, and sprout out of my fingers to the keys on the board and on to the screen. Blogs have always seemed like an interesting concept, if one has enough to write about.

I worry that my writing will turn from interesting to terrible, if it even started off as interesting. I’d like to carry some sort of rhythm, but that may be too much to hope for. The fact that I’ve actually selected a name for my blog shows yards on my decisive principles.

I’ll just say a little about a book I just read, by Eve Ensler, called “I am an Emotional Creature.” It’s a compilation of Eve’s work, depicting herself and other women, and the emotions that being a girl in 2010, in any country, calls for. Some individuals would have women give up their emotional backgrounds in place of a firmer, harsher view of feminism. I, however, agree with Eve. Keep your emotions. They’re what makes us different from the beasts at our door, the men that try to harm us, and they aide us in the situations we must deal with, whether or not we want to.

Anyway, I feel as though my blogging will graze the topics of Barista, Feminism, Books, Photography, Weight Loss, and Exercise. I’m not particularly sure which topic will come first, or why, or when, or if any of the previous topics will even make an appearance. Just some ideas. They’re things that I deal with on an everyday basis; it doesn’t make them interesting, but I feel as though I blabber on about them.

Alright, I best be off to start the day and step into the rain as it’s falling. I may be lucky to save a few drops from a disastrous introduction to the ground; as I wish someone had saved you from my introduction to blogging.