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.