So I had my birthday and we went to The Deep in Hull (and will probably go a lot more in the next year since if you hang on to your tickets you can visit free as many times as you like. We saved ours- in the little mirror pouch of my go kart and I reckon if we’re ever stuck for something to do or skint we’ll visit!) For now, life is a little too manic to take a spur of the moment day trip between manic day jobness and house move on the horizon (finally). I say on the horizon, we haven’t got a definite date yet nor have we started packing. It’s all on the ever growing to do list, this weekend i’s clearing out, trips to the tip and boxing up what belongs we can [must source boxes first].
So, before all that I felt like I needed a little time out and dashed off on a weekend meditation retreat (spot the deliberate oxymoron)- I’ll be writing about my experience in a popular Lesbian/Bi girl mag in the next month or so and will make sure to remind you when (and where) to pick it up. I was offline for a whole weekend and, boy, was it good.
Except, when I came back to the land of the living, social media bugged me.
I was so sick of Twitter and the reviews of lipsticks, the humble bragging, the spam, the people that are so negative about every part of their life.
And it inspired this post.
I feel like I have a difficult relationshiip with social media, I’ve blogged about it a couple of times before. I quit Facebook (temporarily at first, then properly when I realised how much I truly hated it). People tell me I should be on Facebook, if only for my blog but even if I did create a new account with a pseudonym [like the pretentious pricks I really can’t stand or the one whose real name’s Jean who only shares minion memes anyway], where do I draw the line from ex-colleagues then ex-schoolmates, ex-bullies, exes and then before I know it we’re back to the whole sorry saga of finding out someone who I don’t even know has died because of an attention seeking status or that that on-again-off-again relationship is off. Again.
Truth is, much of social media is boring.
But then, there’s nights like the Brits when I can hashtag how much I love Justin Bieber’s jacket or how, quite frankly, Lorde was fucking fantastic. People can like what I’m saying and agree with me and it’s like and extension of the actual real world.And I love it all again. (There I go with my constant need for recognition, again. That extends to real life and Twitter just lets me feel validated by strangers. Which apparently we can admit to in 2016).
My problem with Social Media is I can’t live with it or without it!
What do you think?