Sock it to me

Some time ago I tried to organize my life. I got rid of old clothes, started re-wearing my wardrobe, bought a shoe rack and tossed all my socks with holes in them. I did this thinking that cleaning up my loft would inadvertently clean up my mind. I was at the backend of yet another misadventure of the heart and was trying to keep my thoughts off the ever impending “will he text” question that nowadays, for many, seems to be the meaning of life. To Text or Not to Text, the new moral dilemma, the never-ending cauldron of doubt and a multitude of technological mishaps only make for more confusion than ever before.

I was doing this with my friend and at the time we were having the never-resolved discussion of accountability, dating, what it all means, who we like or don’t and trying to appease the guilts or angers we had with a little organizing…and a lot of alcohol. He was two days deep into a texting marathon and mine was just coming to a crashing halt.

Anyway, opinions are like assholes. Everybody’s got one. A co-worker told me that pride is over-rated; if you want to know, just send a message. Another friend says she always holds out until she gets mad enough to call a spade a spade. Another friend says that her pride is too strong to ever message somebody where wires were crossed, and yet in the right mood she will put up with more crap from a guy than I ever would. My former boss once told me that if she had the balls 20 years ago she had now; life would’ve gone a lot smoother. There is no point in not saying what you want to say because people regret the things they didn’t do more than the ones they did. And that ass that blew you off? Well, whether you send one more message explaining your side or not, they still blew you off. Same outcome. Thought for the day guys and gals.

So, like my attempt to clean up and simplify dating, I tried to do the same for my wardrobe. When deciding between the no name 4-pack or the brand name 3-pack of socks, we decided to go the quality route. Maybe, just maybe my choices would rub off in all areas of life. Funnily enough, those more expensive quality socks? They tore a hole, after only one wear. Socks, like life, even with thought and exertion… can still let you down.

“Fucking socks. You put a little effort into getting a better pair and there are still holes in them…” – Anonymous

 

The Ginga Ninja

To Text or Not to Text

To Text, or not to Text, that is the Question:
Whether ’tis Nobler in the mind to Suffer
The rejection and heartache of outrageous Dexting,
Or to take Arms against a Sea of iPhones,
And by opposing end them: to Text, to Talk no More

Now, I felt it was about time somebody updated this little soliloquy.  This thought came to mind as a good friend of mine was asking my advice on to text…or not to text a guy she is dating.  How sad is it for us that our modern version of dating is now Texting?  She had been feeling under the weather and hadn’t heard from him in awhile.  I asked if he had phoned, or emailed, or even offered to come and check on her in person.  The answer was No, he hadn’t texted all day.

Isn’t it crazy?  Our new version of trying to get to know somebody is through a little screen and the speed of our fingers.  I know that technology has added an extra element of hardship to what is already a really difficult pastime.  Very few people really like dating.  Those that do either want to be unattached or have already found a really solid partner.  The rest of us?  We go up and down weekly, if not daily, as to whether or not it’s all worth it.  The madness we feel when we think we are being rejected, the anger we feel when they are playing games and the guilt we feel when we just don’t like them back.  Trust me, dating is hard enough without technology.

Once upon a time you talked on the phone every few days, perhaps had a date once a week and then as time marched on you found yourself attending major functions and sharing social lives.  It wasn’t easy to meet people, but the selection was smaller and the attention more focused.  I can still remember when MSN and ICQ were the new ‘it’ thing.  I spent HOURS talking to boys that I liked on the computer instead of in person, but at least then it was the best, cheapest and easiest version of real-time we could have outside of actual interaction.  But now..NOW I can peruse my ex’s photos, check out the friends of my new crush and stare endlessly at that Facebook message box praying they are “into me”.  Since when does not hearing from a friend in two weeks mean they don’t like you?  In this instant-gratification, reachable-all-the-time world is when.

Now…we all know what everybody is doing all the time.  Our iPhones tell us when messages have been read, facebook tells you when somebody is online and dating sites let people message you as you browse.  All this real-time policing is a bit scary…maybe the book 1984 had it right all along, but Big Brother just took a very different form than we imagined…social media.

And yet, here I am using social media to spread this word.  In many ways, even though I need it to house a blog, even though I need it to keep a job…sometimes I wish there was a technology implosion.  Sometimes, just sometimes I wish things were simpler and that godforsaken smart devices didn’t exist.  Sometimes, just sometimes, I wish we could go back to the old days where you had an answering machine, or better yet…a notepad.

The Ginga Ninja

For God’s Sake, Just Say it Already!

For anybody out there in a creative communications field, or even just very adept at the English language, you may have heard the quote, “I made this letter longer than usual because I lack the time to make it shorter”, as written by Blaise Pascal.  Well, it’s true because the mere fact that rascally devil Mark Twain tried to take that quote and shorten it to, “If I had more time I would write a shorter letter”, just goes to show you how poorly Monsieur Pascal did in the first place.  Then again, he was born 60 years after Shakespeare, so thou dost believe he may have foundeth extensive difficulties in this task.

I, for one fail miserably.  Funnily enough, at work I am currently mentoring my intern on how to write in simpler terms.  Write short?  Ya, right.  How on earth could I get all my witty andecdotes out there then? (kidding…well, sort of).  But, let’s be honest, it is incredibly difficult to do.  Why do you think there are so many brutal tweets floating in the digital world and why do you think all these terrible acronyms were invented “FML, LMAO, LOL, OMG”…or my brother’s favourite…”OMFG”? It’s because there are things we all want to say and cannot in 140 characters or less!  Also noted, when reading some of my friends’ texts, I swear I’m chatting (I can’t believe I just called it that) with an illiterate sailor who cannot spell or avoid swearing in a one-sentence message…they want to say so much more than they want to type!  C’mon, just give in, type YOURSELF and get over urself.

Once again, who am I to really judge anyone?  I am a recent iPhone owner and am incredibly guilty for shortening (you) to (u)…but the (u) is actually next to the (i) and pretty consistently I mistakenly hit the wrong one, COMPLETELY changing the message (oh HOW funny)…and more importantly I am now getting off topic. Butttt, more often than not I end up sounding like a narcissistic ass.  Somehow the meaning of “I suck” changes when it becomes “u suck ”.

But, back to the point…which, I inadvertently just proved.  It’s hard to stay concise.  My grade 12 English teacher (let’s call him Mr. Pretentious Douche) told my mother I would never achieve an ‘A’ in his class.  I was younger than the other students and he believed it took a certain maturity to grasp the English language.  What I soon discovered is that he believed in brevity.  Shorten your sentences, simplify your words, say more in less.  3 months later….I got an A.

Take that.  Short enough for you?

The Ginga Ninja

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Will you text with me? Modern Love.

So, there are times I think I am soooo witty and funny, or more appropriately, hope I am.  But, just like everything in life, almost every thought, every moment, every feeling, every job you have (which is monumental to you!) has all been had before.  As it turns out, this proof rears its ugly head once again, that I am in fact NOT as special as my mother made me out to be.

(Funny thing about that is as child I was told to reach for the stars and never settle, as an adult I was told that life was not meant to be extraordinary and that I must envision less…oh mom…how I love your mind-messing schizophrenia).

Anyways, have you ever noticed that today’s version of dating BY TEXT is somewhat equivalent to the grade school pastime of passing notes to one another?  It’s impossible to know whether you are actually “dating” anymore or just passing time… and so many people hide behind modern-day technology and cannot live without those little screens. We are all so afraid of actually talking to one another, wasting our oh-so-precious time and wanting to appear non-committal, we just seem to have resorted from one version of passing notes to another.

In the movie “He’s just not that into you”, the character Mary rants, “I had this guy leave me a voicemail at work so I called him at home and then he emailed me to my Blackberry and so I texted to his cell and then he emailed me to my home account and the whole thing just got out of control. And I miss the days when you had one phone number and one answering machine and that one answering machine has one cassette tape and that one cassette tape either had a message from a guy or it didn’t. And now you just have to go around checking all these different portals just to get rejected by seven different technologies. It’s exhausting. “

You know, she’s kind of right.  When this phenomenon hit a few years ago, I was somewhat taken aback that gone were the days of 4 hour phone calls, falling asleep on the line together whispering “you hang up…no YOU hang up”…and it was replaced by constant little one liners of “how was ur day?”, “what r U up to right now”, and “just out with friends 4 a beer, U?”.  I was frustrated as hell when I actually liked the guy that his cell phone didn’t seem to get coverage in a voice-to-voice conversation, yet somehow I magically received texts 24/7.  However, also elated about the ability to hide behind this little screen when I was busy, but still wanted to check in, or frankly just “wasn’t that into him”.

But, the old-fashioned days of actually meeting in person for coffee or having long and meaningful phone conversations appear to be gone.  We are now in the age of technology where only by the trail of little e-notes you carry around in your iPhone you can actually prove to your friends that you do, in fact, have a boyfriend.  Which is really, essentially the same as when you were in grade 5 and somebody asked you out by note.  Check the box, “Yes, No, Maybe” and there you had it.  You didn’t speak, you didn’t hold hands, you rarely looked at each other without giggling, yet the proof was there, clear as day…you checked the box marked YES and had a bonafide BOYFRIEND.

I wish, oh how I wish that dating was simpler.  That it wasn’t through phone, that maybe you did have the anticipation of talking to one another instead of the instant gratification of a text, and the WORST is when you know the text is read and yet they haven’t answered back (DAMN YOU iPHONE!!), but once again, it appears I am not original in these thoughts, nor am I alone.

My friend, the Single Girl says it here and says it well.  http://adventuresofasinglegirl.com/index.php/2011/11/e-t-phone-home/.  Don’t worry, someday, someone will find you important enough to pick up the phone and dial those simple, little, digits.  Someday my phone call will come.

The Ginga Ninja

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