Tag Archives: highschool

Social Media. Let’s stalk about it.


Me and my new boyfriend Netflix (no offence real boyfriend) have been having quite the affair lately. And oddly enough there seems to be a shit-ton of shows related to technology, social media, paranoia, needs and perceptions.

One of the shows I watch is about bullying in highschool and how technology makes it so much worse. In hindsight I guess I was bullied a bit, some rumours spread, some issues with girls, some issues with boys, some issues with girls about boys and ultimately some very poor self-esteem. Back then the rumours were spread in homeroom or late at night on a landline, if people isolated you, well you just spoke to nobody and if photos were taken you had to physically pass them around…nowadays it can be public, and messy, and graphic, and isolation is proven to you in so many more ways.

But, honestly, this post isn’t about bullying, it’s more about the technology involved and it’s effect on our lives. I’ve been watching the show Black Mirror recently, and each and every episode has some tie into advanced technology and how it does (or could) affect our lives. The episodes are dark, they are creepy, they are the modern day Twilight Zone and more scarily, some are a little too close to the truth.

One episode in particular has resonated with quite a few girls I know. Bryce Dallas Howard lives in a world where “likes” are a part of your daily interactions. And I don’t just mean a part, I mean the virtual equivalent of popularity IS their life’s work, their whole life. Every interaction they have with anybody…everybody…is ranked out of 5 stars. Your rating (think about your own personal Trip Advisor) decides not only how beloved you are, but what you can get in life. You can get a better car, better house, better flight, better price and hell, better man if you have a higher ranking. You spend your whole life obsessing over your perceived popularity with a fake little smile plastered on your fake little face.

Well, I’ve been Bryce Dallas Howard. I’ve been that person looking at somebody else’s photos, fiancée, new dog, new house, current trip and yearning. Yearning over their great career, their new car, their everlasting love and here I am sitting on my couch listening to the Cure. Okay, that’s a bit drastic, but movies, my music, my guitar and my Netflix. And so we’ve come full circle.

Tricked you again, the post isn’t really about Netflix either. Sneaky, sneaky.

Anyway. Did you know there are studies floating around stating that excessive selfies are linked to anxiety, self-esteem and overall intimacy and straight-up mental disorder? In fact, it’s called “selfitis”. No seriously. And though I am guilty of (let’s admit it) #awesome selfies, I can’t help but notice those people that post them 15 times a day. All it takes is 3 people…3 selfies a day can check you into the nuthouse. Read on, tis true.


It also turns out the stronger your relationship with social media is, often the higher your chances of depression are. The need to prove everything to the world is proof that something is missing, let’s call it a “virtual void” to be filled. Fake friends, fake articles, fake comments and fake likes on meaningless posts. “They” also say that the more you see other people’s shining, smiling, delicious, bright, filtered, deliriously happy photos, the sadder you will be….as you sit on your couch…and write your blog grocery list and feed your cat kids. #nofilter #reallife 


And the worst part about this post is that I know these things. I know that getting likes on my Instagram, comments on my selfies and followers on my blog (oh please, oh please) doesn’t mean I’m a better person. It doesn’t mean that I’m smarter, or prettier, or any more talented, it doesn’t mean that I’m thinner, fatter, richer, more or less loved. It doesn’t mean these things.

The sad thing is, I do feel a little bit prettier when 40 people like my new glasses, I do feel a bit more loved when my boyfriend likes my photos (and imagine if he tagged me too, lucky gal) and I do look at other girls photos and envy their lives. I envy their fake lashes, I envy their pet’s Instagram page, I envy their seemingly loving boyfriend who posts hashtag after hashtag about his goddess and their uber perfect life. I envy their expensive clothes, I envy their free housing and I envy their size 4 figure.

So, deep down, I know that comparing your life is the most useless activity in the world, and envying somebody’s need to post everything that has every happened in their world with at least one #hashtagged couple-selfie a day is sad…but let’s be brutally honest, my desire to look in and care is even sadder.

So many struggle with this. We hate online dating, we hate feeling unwanted / unliked, we know when somebody unfriends us, we panic when we think we are blocked, we post our feelings on the bad days and our best pictures on the good ones. We know that more likes means more love, right? Wrong. Those of us smart enough to know it is a mental disorder filled with narcissism, anxiety, depression and meaninglessness know it’s wrong, but we yearn anyway.

Life is now one big photo album of people’s kids and vacations. There is no avoiding it short of having the guts to go media free. But as most jobs are posted online, most business profiles are necessary, online education is a thing, digital music is a must, smartphones are the norm…odds of us going off the grid are poor. So, in the meantime we will do our best to love our lives and remember that the more wonderful things you post, sometimes the less wonderful your life actually is.

Now, don’t say you’re too afraid or that you don’t feel comfortable doing this kind of thing, because guess what? You spy on people every day. We’re always watching someone. Following someone. And being followed. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, they’ve made us a society of stalkers. And we love it. – Hannah, 13 Reasons Why

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

This slideshow requires JavaScript.