A World Without Jerks?

Generally speaking, we're a bunch of jerks. We really are. I don't know if it's because I've experienced a terrible couple of incidents over the last few hours, but right now, I've got a general distaste for humanity.

A few months back I noticed a new ad campaign become prevalent on TTC billboards in Toronto. The campaign, featuring simple graphics and text, is part of this movement encouraging people to do good. It's called the People For Good project.

When I first stumbled across it, I couldn't help but smile, because I thought, "Wow! Here's a group of people who truly want to do well by this world. What a refreshing use of ad space!"

As time went by I began to notice more of these posters, and not just on the TTC anymore. The campaign had spread to the street, stores, and to bus shelters across the city.

I never really thought Toronto was a bad city, you know? I never thought it was filled with people who turn to anger before kindness, and selfishness over simple human consideration. I mean, I understood the point of the campaign, but I didn't think we needed to be reminded of it everywhere we went... to choose good.

But after my experiences this evening hit a boiling point, I realized just how essential it was. The sad reality is that we NEED to be reminded to do good. To be good. To choose good.

Today was a good day. After a stream of not-so-good days, I welcomed the end of my working hours, and headed to to the subway for my daily ride home. I stopped off to pick up my October metro-pass at the TTC booth, and after paying with my debit card, I asked the collector for a receipt. This request was met with a series of angry remarks from him, along with demeaning comments at a very loud tone:

"You already have your debit receipt!"

"You already have a receipt in your hand, why do you need another one? Can't you see what's already in your hand?"

"What the hell is wrong with you? Are you stupid? Woman, just get out of here!" 

My request was simple: I asked him to provide me with an additional receipt to go along with my purchase, because another TTC employee had informed me in previous months, that this was needed for my own accounting purposes. But the employee from today's incident didn't want to hear it. Instead of explaining it to me simply, or asking me for my reason, he chose to yell and humiliate me in front of a growing line of customers.

If I didn't need an additional receipt, he simply had to tell me. If he didn't understand my request, he simply had to ask me. There was no need to yell.

Anyway, I walked away feeling about two feet tall, and completely embarrassed. All because I made a simple request. And for the record, I always pay with my debit card, and when I ask for a receipt, other TTC employees always provide a written one... that includes their signature and employee number.

*Deep Breath*

So suffice to say, my good day did a 180 and turned utterly horrible from this single incident. An incident that could have been avoided with simple customer service (that the TTC prides itself in delivering), active listening and understanding.

Then, while I was getting on the train, I saw a young man standing in the doorway while people were trying to get on. He was blocking the entrance, and making people walk around him, while he stood there with his backpack.

After a number of people squeezed through, one older man said, "Do you mind moving in a bit please? There's people trying to get on."

This simple comment made the young man so angry. The audacity that someone asked him to move in and show some consideration to the people trying to get on the train.

He smirked and responded  with, "Show some respect! Why do you care where I stand?"

Really? Show some respect? You're saying this to an older man who is asking you to show some consideration. The way I see it, you and your 15-year-old self have a lot to learn about respect. And of course he cares where you stand. We all do! Especially when where you choose to stand is making it difficult for other people to get into the train.

Most days, I just really don't understand people.

And then I got to thinking about this campaign. Wow! How desperately do we need it? How desperately do we need to be reminded that life doesn't have to move at a thousand miles a minute? That we don't need to be so quick to jump to judgment. That a wee bit of understanding can make such a huge difference in situations, and in life all together.

What's to gain out of being mean? All you're doing is hurting someone else. I understand that some situations warrant quick wit and rebuttal, because let's face it -- some people deserve what's coming to them. But in everyday behaviour? What do we have to gain by being rude? Unless you're some sort of sadist who thrives on the misfortune of others and from making people feel beneath you. If that's the case, I feel sorry for you. Life is about so much more than sitting on a high chair and looking down your nose at people.

There's something to be said about really connecting with people. About listening. About paying attention to things that don't necessarily involve you. About having points in your day, week, month, where you choose selflessness and kindness.

Doing good and seeing the reaction you get from your actions -- the smiles, the aura that changes from one of darkness and doom to hopefulness? There's nothing quite like it. It fills your soul and it becomes contagious.

So try it. Choose good. Do good. And watch how the wave spreads and takes over humanity. There really is no catch.

Call me a hopeless optimist, but I truly believe (down to my toes) that it's possibl/




xo
Simi
Images Courtesy of Google Images

Wasted words

Sorry for the silence. I've been up to my eyeballs adjusting to the new job, which is going well so far (thankfully!). But something heavy has been weighing on my mind lately, and I figured it's time to let it out.

First off, let me start by saying this post isn't reflective of one person in particular, but rather of observations I've made over the past few months.

There are moments when I genuinely feel I should start charging people for the hours upon hours I spend listening to how stressful their lives are.

Now, here's the thing: I don't mind it. Truly, I don't mind lending an ear to people when they want to get something off their chest, or decompress their thoughts. Sometimes, when something has been floating around in your mind for so long, it loses value until you speak it out loud. Everyone deserves to be heard, and I've always been a better listener than a speaker. So generally, I don't mind it.

But what bothers me is this: People seem to walk around with this idea that they're the only ones (on a planet of close to 7 billion people) who are suffering from the problems they're encountering.

They're not complaining about unemployment, they're not complaining about sickness, they're not complaining about abuse, they're not complaining about malnutrition, they're not complaining about death.

They complain about things they shouldn't be complaining about. Silly, trivial stuff.

And then they ask for advice. Someone once told me never to give out advice for free, because chances are it will fall on deaf ears, and you'll find yourself repeating it a thousand times over. I didn't really believe them at the time...  but sure do now.

It seems to me that when people ask for advice, they only want to hear one thing -- confirmation that what they're doing, feeling, experiencing and considering is right. And if you tell them it's wrong, I think they block it out. They choose to intentionally not hear it. So you're left with wasted words... words that you'll find yourself repeating again the next time they come knocking for advice. And  the next time after that.

People, if you're able to kick back and read this blog, your life can't be that bad.

Sometimes I just want to scream when I hear the complaints. I often tell people to stop measuring their lives with someone else's yardstick. We need to stop looking at what we don't have in comparison to others, and start being grateful for what we do have. Not everyone in the world is so fortunate.

Have you read the newspapers lately? Have you watched the news? You should.

We are all dealt a different deck of cards. No one knows if someone else's life is better. What you see on the outside might very well be a show.

I'll admit, I'm guilty of complaining too. I mean, it's human nature to wonder if your life is as good as it should be. I often wonder if my life will change. If perhaps just one of the dreams I had as a child will come true. Who doesn't?

But it's the people who do it day after day.... come on! Take a step outside of yourself, and have a look around. You'll see that things aren't half as bad as you imagine them to be.

Look, all I ask is that you sit back and look at the positives in your life. You'll realize how blessed you are in comparison to a lot of people on this planet. You may not have what your neighbour has, and you may certainly not have what your best friend has.

But you do have. And you should be grateful for that.

We can only control so much in our lives. A lot of what happens to us is a result of external factors. When things get bad, you just have to keep looking forward, and remain hopeful. We're human... and are hopeful by nature.

So try to wade your way through the bad muck, and hold on to the good. It's all anyone can do.

And when all else fails, remember these wise words...

'Everything's gonna be alright.' - Bob Marley
(Sage advice from one of the most hopeful men in history.)

xo

Image courtesy of Google Images

Is it just me?

I'm feeling pretty rattled tonight, in the wake of all this sadness in the world.

Since the start of 2011, birds are falling from the sky, fish are washing ashore, floods are drowning out life down under, and a massive winter snowstorm has pretty much blanketed most of Canada and the US. And those are just the natural disasters.

In addition to all this, the media hasn't failed to provide up-to-the-minute coverage of the shootings in Tuscon, Arizona, which took away the lives of so many innocent people this past weekend.

And just this morning we were given a local shock in Toronto, after a man went on a rampage through the city on a stolen snowplow, and killed a police officer in the line of duty. The officer was just 35-years-old, and a father to a toddler.

I'm breathless just from writing all that out. It's sometimes too much to bear, isn't it? And mind you, all of this is happening while the world solemnly watches the attempted reconstruction of Haiti, a year after a brutal earthquake shook that entire country.

I feel this post is going against everything Straight From The Curls stands for, and yet I can't help but vent. I understand we have no control over the natural disasters (sort of), but what about the man-made problems in our world? Is there any reason for this self-inflicted chaos?

I was forced into a makeshift media blackout during my year in Korea. I had a television, but the news was always in Korean, so I never really understood what was going on. And I didn't mind it. It was rather nice not knowing about all the happenings in the world at every minute. When I felt like it, I'd go on the Internet to look up information.

But these days it seems like we can't escape it. The media is everywhere -- even on the go, with mobile phones and wireless technology. Every waking moment we're subjected to the going ons on either ends of our world. And it seems like in recent times the bad news has been outweighing the good.

Actress Whoopi Golberg's latest book is aptly titled, "Is it just me? Or is it nuts out there?" It's pretty appropriate, don't you think? I especially love the image on the cover.


We as a species really need to take another look at ourselves and about the ways in which we interact with each other. There's just so much unnecessary hate out there, and it really has become a big, bad, scary world. Instead of looking after one another, we're pitching lines in concrete. Instead of promoting peace, we're encouraging animosity among faiths, races, ages... and all this while toting a loaded gun. Why?

And what's with all these politicians encouraging such behaviour? I've always said words are a powerful medium. People absorb words, even if it's subconsciously. So why is it that instead of using their platforms to encourage communication and open-mindedness, most politicians are encouraging barriers and violence?

At the end of the day, when it's our time to leave this planet, we go without our material possessions. So why is it that even with this valuable piece of information, we're still living our lives like it's us against the world? Shouldn't we be valuing life and the limited time we have on this earth?

It seems to me like people have lost their sense of humanity. Values and morals have been replaced by this idea that life should be a free-for-all, rooted in greed and ignorance -- it's us against you, and you against them. And this is the very attitude that's brought us to the global predicaments we find ourselves in.

There's a lovely Persian proverb that reads, "We come into this world crying while all around us are smiling. May we so live that we go out of this world smiling while everybody around us is weeping."

We need to reevaluate how we, as human beings and fellow citizens of this planet, are living our lives and about what our priorities are. I'm not saying we shouldn't have goals and dreams of bettering our lives... that's fine. That's good. But it shouldn't come at the cost and lives of others.

We need to have hope for a better tomorrow. But we should also be proactive and spread messages of love and peace with whomever we can, whenever we can.

"You must be the change you wish to see in the world."

- Mahatma Gandhi

Image courtesy of Google Images

Toronto is the unhappiest city in Canada

Yes, it's true.

According to a 2010 study conducted by the Canadian Centre for the Study of Living Standards (CSLS), Toronto is the unhappiest city in Canada. The happiest city is Sherbrooke, Quebec -- but not by much. According to the study, on a scale of 1 to 5, Toronto scored 4.15 and Sherbrooke scored 4.37. So in hindsight, it's not by a large margin, but it's still an interesting fact to explore.

An article in the Toronto star said there could be a number of factors influencing the figures that showed up in the study; but one of the main reasons is because Torontonians generally suffer from “less of a feeling of community because of the large concentration of population and trend towards skyscraper living.”

I kind of believe this. From my experience it seems that unless people live in the core of the city, it's quite difficult to feel part of a community.


A commenter over at Reddit responded to this study by saying it's harder to be happy in the suburbs, because priorities are different. If you're someone who likes going out and meeting new people and you live in the suburbs without constant access to a car, it can be quite easy to fall into a desperate case of the 'blahs'.

That said, it would be interesting to see the survey results sorted by suburb dwellers and urban dwellers.

Toronto is a city that's quite spread out, so it's difficult to just 'go out and do something' without planning well in advance. Especially because transportation options are so bad. I live on the subway line, but quite far east. And if I want to go out and enjoy myself, I feel more inclined to head downtown. But when I do decide to go downtown, I have to plan in advance and figure out what time I need to leave in order to catch the last subway home. It does make me quite upset, and I know a large number of Torontonians share this sentiment.

Another key point brought up in the Toronto Star article focused on Toronto's immigrant population and the state of employment (or the lack of it) in the city.

When people immigrate to Canada they tend to head to bigger cities like Vancouver and Toronto. The idea is that there will be greater opportunities to assimilate within 'multicultural' communities, and find employment. Sadly, this isn't always the case, and the culture-shock leads to greater unhappiness and stress within immigrant communities.

All that aside, I do enjoy living in Toronto. But the results from the study speak for themselves.

I'm not shocked to find out Toronto is the unhappiest city in Canada. It may be a mosaic of many different cultures and it does have a lot going for it, but in my opinion, Toronto definitely doesn't have a sense of community. There's a lot of comfort in smaller communities within the city, but as a whole, there's something missing.

Well, except every time the Leafs lose. Everyone commiserates together then.

xo




Image courtesy of TorontoLife.com

An open letter to the Toronto Transit Commission

Dear TTC,

After years of defending you to to my friends and family, I think I've finally reached my limit. I don't normally use this blog to promote rants and thoughts that I know will lead no where. But I really need to get these feelings off my chest.

For the longest time I figured it was pointless for me to vent and complain about you because a.) There isn't an alternative form of public transportation in Toronto (and I depend on you far too much to go cold turkey), and b.) I thought it was wrong to let my feelings toward the misgivings of a few employees dominate the entire system.

But here I am... annoyed as hell. In the past two weeks I've experienced two incidents that I could have easily done without. Two bad experiences with the TTC in two weeks is two too much!

Let me enlighten you.

Every morning I catch the same bus to work. And for the most part, it has the same driver every time. Instead of walking to the subway station, I wait at the bus shelter by my house -- this is the first stop once the bus leaves the station. Last week, while caught in a downpour, I ran to the bus shelter and waited for my ride. I saw the bus coming down the street and walked out into the rain, only to have the bus drive past me, and stop beyond the intersection. I ran up to the bus and knocked on the door, which the driver opened -- much to his annoyance.

"When the weather gets like this, you cannot be in the bus shelter," he said, with an annoyed look. "You should walk to the station and wait there."

Really? I didn't see a sign up that said I needed to do that. And besides, another bus that went down a different route stopped at that same stop and picked up four people who were waiting with me. I conveyed this information to the driver, who just glared at me and repeated himself, warning me that if he saw me do this the next time, he wouldn't stop.

Wow. I didn't think they were allowed to make up their own rules. If he had simply let me in with a nod, I would have been fine. If he had let me in and apologized for overshooting the stop, I would have been better than fine. But he didn't do either of those things. Instead, he made it seem like it was somehow my fault. What? Waiting at a designated bus stop in the pouring rain became a crime while I was out of the country for the past year? News to me.

I was steaming from this incident, but I let it pass, chalking it up to a possible bad day for the driver. We all have those from time to time, and I figured he'd be nicer the next time I saw him.

Today I had the misfortune of having the same bus driver again. This time I wasn't the victim of his verbal aggression, but rather, a friendly older lady. The incident took place about 20 minutes into the bus ride. He pulled up to one of the bus stops and let a young man on. In fact, it might have been one of those 'rolling stops' where the bus is still moving while people get on and off.

The young man asked the bus driver to wait for a few seconds, because an elderly lady (with a cane) was scrambling to get to the front of the bus. (Keep in mind, this was during the first snowfall in December).

Once she boarded the bus, she casually joked with the driver and said, "Oh, you almost got away from me." It was cute, and I could tell she was trying to make light of the whole situation. His response to her was rude and absolutely uncalled for, and it's one of the reasons I'm writing this blog post tonight.

The driver turned to the lady who was trying to take out her bus fare and curtly said, "Pay your fare and take a seat." That's it. He could see her struggling to find her money (or tickets), and continued being mean to her. It seemed as if those few seconds he had to wait for her were so inconveniencing, he couldn't hold back his wrath.

The lady reacted kindly and said, "If you don't mind, I'm rather unsteady right now, please give me a few seconds..." Again, his reaction? "I said take a seat!"

The lady eventually paid her fare and wobbled over to one of the poles and stood for her journey -- which, as it turned out, was two stops down the road, so she didn't want to sit.

I wish I was the kind of person who could have gone up to that driver and given him a piece of my mind. I wish I had the nerve and courage to tell him what I really thought of him. Instead, all I did was sit there and fume over everything that had led up to these feelings. And I cursed him out in my mind.

When I came back to Toronto in September, I had to adjust to paying three dollars to simply enter TTC property. In Seoul, three dollars would get me from point A to point B and back. Actually, less than three dollars.

I understand that while I was away, the TTC decided they needed to revamp their whole attitude towards their riders, and began this campaign to focus on 'customer service'. Really? If this is what you call customer service, then I can't help but laugh in your face.

Again, there's this huge part of me that's screaming -- I shouldn't judge the entire Commission based on the actions of a few disgruntled employees. But really, when I see this same disgruntled employee day after day, driving the same route day after day, meeting the same patrons day after day, treating the same riders like scum... day after day, I can't help but feel that same spite towards the entire organization.

I don't think saying 'get your act together' will solve anything. All I know is this -- when Torontonians say they hate the TTC, there's a reason for it. Fares keep increasing, while employees sit with their unionized jobs, treating riders with such disdain and spite. And for what? Because we get upset when you treat us like we're not worthy of a hello (in return) or a legitimate pick up from a designated bus stop?

Perhaps if you start following your own rules, then your riders will follow suit. Perhaps if you stop threatening to go on strike and taking the city hostage every time you don't get your own way, then your riders will respect you and your work more. We know we can't live without you, and you know we can't live without you. The only difference is, you make sure to remind us of this every time you want something done your way (the better way?!).

That's all I have to say on that. For now.

SC

P.s. To further justify my irritation, I just moved back to Toronto from Seoul, Korea. With all the problems they're having on that peninsula, they sure have one thing right -- their transportation.

-You can take a train from Seoul to Busan (respectively, from the north of SK to the south) in under four hours.
-With the Korean won and Canadian dollar almost at par, it still only costs approximately 90 cents to get on a train or a bus.
-You can get wi-fi AND use your cell phone while riding the subway (which, mind you, is much further underground than in Toronto).
-Seoul has nine (NINE) subway lines. And they're building more, as I write this.

So... perhaps increasing fares and not having anything valid to show for it is a good enough reason for people to be steaming mad at you.

Image courtesy of Google Images

Dear Life

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."

- Mark Twain

Dear Life,

You've been keeping me on my toes for almost quarter of a century now. Literally, you had me convinced I could run before I could walk. What's with that? I guess it's what set the whole 'you're older than your time' issue in motion.

But, I'm grateful to you. You've never left me for lack of entertainment. Just when I find myself getting bored, you always manage to throw another adventure into my path. Even if I'm tired and want to sleep for days, you manage to keep my mind racing with thoughts and ideas at a mile a millisecond. Sometimes they lead to massive brain cramps, but mostly they inspire me.

You've taught me lessons after the fact. I've tripped, stumbled and bruised my way to this moment in time, but I've (mostly) learned from the falls. You've made me stronger with each obstacle and have ensured that I have the power to overcome even my deepest and darkest fears. Don't get me wrong, I'm still nursing some of these battle scars, but I know I'll get through... because of time.

Life, you've taught me that time is neither linear or infinite (I guess I'm stating the obvious here, huh?). I have a few windows to jump through and a handful of doors to open in my adventure on this planet. And the most recent lessons have taught me that I HAVE to take chances and fly through them. Doing so will ensure that I'll always know I tried and trudged forward with faith, regardless of the outcomes.

I've learned the importance of having hope. It's the fuel that humanity runs on. If there was no hope, we would have all given up on just about everything by now. Even doctors, engineers and scientists - people who mostly work with definite answers - will admit that they believe in possibilities. Thinking positively about the future means that hope is a key ingredient in their thought processes. And it should be... for all of us.

I've learned to be grateful for moments of love and blissful perfection - even if they're momentary. Experiences where you feel like you're floating on clouds of happiness and can touch the sky mean such moments do exist. And if you've experienced them, you should be grateful, because not everyone does. I guess I'm one of the lucky few... even if just by moments.

I've learned to appreciate your sense of humour, Life. Seriously, you're a regular clown when you want to be. I mean, just when you have me believing I'm on a steady and sturdy path, you decide you're bored and put a boulder in my way. And what do you do next? Well, you watch while I work my way around (and mostly through) that giant rock. But I'll give it to you, you somehow always provide me with solutions on how to get by. So thanks for that, I guess. I'm glad you're amused at my expense!

Lastly (for now), thanks for making me into the kind of person who feels truly, honestly and deeply. You've given me senses that are triggered by the heart over the mind. I sometimes wish it was the other way around because perhaps my journey would be easier that way. But as it stands, I'm happy with the way things are for now. Living like this lets me see and experience the goodness, beauty and love in this world with genuine light.

I love openly because that's the only way I know how. And thank you for bringing kindred spirits into my life who also see things the way I do. But mostly, thanks for the ones who think differently, because they've taught me a lot as well. They've definitely made the journey that much more interesting.

So, here's looking forward to what you've got planned for me next. Bring on the lessons and adventures, because really, who ever liked taking the straight path anyway?

Cheers!

xo
SC

Image courtesy of Google Images

I wish I could go back to middle school...

... just so that I could kick some 'mean girl' butt!

This entry's going to be long... but please read on, as I'd love to hear your comments.

I am steaming right now. I haven't been this angry in ages, and go figure, all it took were a bunch of ignorant little tweens and their twisted realities, to send me flying over the edge.

I teach the equivalent of grades 7, 8 and 9 at my middle school in Korea. The ages in the classes range anywhere from 13 - 16. This particular incident involved my third graders... the supposed leaders of the school, by Korean standards.

One of my classes (that I see twice a week) has a special needs student in it. She's absolutely brilliant in terms of speaking, reading and writing English. I've been told she has 'autistic tendencies' by the teachers here, but they do nothing to help her, and force her to socialize and deal with the wrath of her peers in regular classes.

A couple of weeks ago, this student - let's call her J - was playing with a blue plastic mirror case. It had the design of a pig on it, and it seemed to amuse her to a great deal. With a few minutes left for class to begin, I approached J and asked her what she was so happy about. She pointed to the blue pig case and said, "This is a gift from my friend. I am very happy!"

I asked her if I could see it, and proceeded to open the case... only to be shocked when I found a broken and fragmented mirror inside it.

"Who gave this to you, J?" I asked. I was absolutely concerned about her safety at this point.

She simply smiled at me and said it was a secret. "I am told to keep a secret. I can't tell you!"

This made me angry, and I started to look around the class to see who would deliberately give someone a broken mirror, and call it a gift! This person clearly wasn't a friend.

A few minutes later a girl walked in, sending J into a fit of giggles. I looked at the front of the class, and saw a thinner, more petite girl, giving J the sternest look a middle schooler could muster.

"It had to be her," I though.

Following my instincts, I approached the girl and asked her why she'd give someone a broken mirror as a gift. The girl looked at the case, then at the broken mirror, and let her jaw drop to the ground.

"Teacher!!! What happened? This is dangerous! Oh, what about J? Is she OK?" she asked, in a breath.

"Yes, she's fine," I said. "What I want to know is why you'd do something like this? What's wrong with you?"

The girl proceeded to feign ignorance and said she had no idea the mirror was broken. She then walked up to J and exchanged some seemingly sweet choice words with her. Although, now that I think about it, it must have upset J a great deal, as she was quiet for the rest of the class.

FLASH FORWARD TO TWO HOURS AGO

J walked into our class after lunch and told me right off the bat that she hated coming to school.

"What's wrong? Why are you upset?" I asked her.

She said she couldn't tell me (again) but that her homeroom teacher knew.

I figured the bullying had something to do with it, but I let the topic drop after she insisted on talking to me about the weather. Still, I decided to keep an eye out for the student who'd given her the mirror in our last class.

Within minutes, this student walked into the classroom, seemingly angry about something. she took a seat in the row ahead of J and shot her a vicious look that I'm sure everyone caught. Yet no one said a word... including my co-teacher.

I proceeded to start the class as usual, working on the date and weather for the day, when I saw this student pull out a plastic mirror from her pocket and hold it back to J. The frame stood on it's own, with the missing mirror replaced by the photo of a pig.

I lost my restrain!

I called the girl out on it in front of the class, while taking the mirror and shoving it into a drawer in my desk. Once again, the girl - and her friend, who just so happened to be one of the smartest students in my class - feigned ignorance and said she was clumsy and broke the mirror before class.

J's face gave the situation away. I knew these girls had something to do with J's sadness, and I looked at my co-teacher in desperate hope that he'd intervene and do something about it.

He, as expected, did absolutely nothing, choosing to ignore what was happening right under his nose.

This is the third time I've encountered the same experience with the same students. What I can't wrap my mind around is how twisted these girls are, that they can think of bullying in such a way.

From what I gather, this is how it goes down:

They approach J and make her see her reflection in the mirror. They then proceed to taunt her, telling her she's ugly and that she looks like a pig. Next, they smash the mirror in front of her, telling her that it broke because of her face. So she should never look into a mirror, because the only thing she'll see in it, is a pig.

I hate this. I absolutely hate it! There's NO reason that anyone should be treated this way. It's also sad to say that the girls who are doing this have admitted to undergoing plastic surgery on their faces... in middle school!! Why on EARTH would a young teenager have access to cosmetic surgery at such a young age? Is their view of beauty and what's considered 'normal' in this world, so twisted??

I've done what I can to fix this situation, from confiscating mirrors, to yelling at the girls, to punishing them in class. But because neither their homeroom teachers nor my co-teachers think this situation is severe enough to need more attention, there's nothing else I can do but wait and watch as this time-bomb ticks.

It's moments like these when I'm reminded how limited my resources and means to make a difference are in this country. I can only go as far as they want me to go, as long as they're watching. It's only when they're not watching, that I'm able to take small leaps ahead.

xo
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Just another Sunday thought

A few weekends ago I got thinking: It’s amazing how sometimes in life you get more than you bargained for. Some days, you might feel as though you’re in complete control of your present – your ‘here and now’. You have all your ducks lined up in order and you are conscious of all your next steps. But then, something happens that throws you off, and all of a sudden, everything you set out to do or planned, either ends up on the back-burner or destroyed all together. It just goes to show, you can never be too prepared when it comes to life.

John Lennon said, "Life is what happens when you're making other plans." I guess he wasn't kidding. When we plan our lives, we create it in our view of perfection. We take steps, measures and precautions to ensure that by the end of the journey, we’ll feel the least amount of hurt as a result of those around us. We build bridges to those who make us feel loved, strong and happy, while creating walls, closing us away from those who make us feel pain, hurt and anger.

In some cases it’s a defense mechanism, but for others, it’s just the way they’re built. Some are born with the ability to compartmentalize and disconnect emotions from reality, while others need to learn the techniques along the way.

But what are we to do when someone builds their own bridge to you, sneaks past the wall when you’re not paying attention, and ends up hurting you anyway? Or, what are we to do when we don’t build bridges leading us towards the ones who will undoubtedly make our lives better?

I guess, that’s the ‘life’ part, isn’t it? You can’t really ever know these things, or when they will happen. It’s the risks and gambles we have to take when we play the game.

Sometimes the risks we take come at far greater prices than we bargained for… but we take them anyway, because we think, “Let’s live a little and make this journey a bit more interesting...” And because it’s a risk, we know from the beginning that the outcome can end up in one of two ways. But isn’t it funny how we’re never prepared for the negative one?

Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love, said that people come into our lives with purpose. In knowing them in time and place, we are forever left changed. And this change can be for better or worse… and we usually don’t figure this out until it happens.

But I suppose the point is to embrace it all – the goodness, the negativity, the pain, the happiness, the anger – all of it, in hopes that we can grow and understand a little more of ourselves, through the experience.

Life is an ongoing journey, and it’s not always a steadily positive one. Sometimes it’s pretty accurate to say, “Life just sucks!”

But the point is that if we can get through the experience, for better or worse, and come out on the other end (which, we usually do – give or take a few scars and bruises), we can grow in understanding that this is what it means to truly feel alive. That, despite the walls around us, or the bridges to our support systems, we can allow ourselves to feel pure happiness, pain, joy and sadness, and still be OK.

The only goal is to ensure that we don’t become slaves to our feelings, and let them run our lives. Because when that happens, we’re not living for ourselves… we’re living for those who ignited the feelings in us. And doing that, well that would really make life suck!

xo
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Thinking about life

I hate to think I'm jumping on the bandwagon, and I hope you won't think I am. But I must say something.

These feelings I'm experiencing, they're the exact same emotions I feel when I find out a loved one has passed on. They're the same symptoms that take over me when I feel like I have no control over something. These are the same feelings I had in December 2004.

When those fatal earthquakes and tsunamis in the Indian Ocean destroyed thousands upon thousands of lives... I felt helpless. And despite my helplessness, I couldn't stop sitting at my computer, crawling websites that listed the names of loved ones... lost. Gone. I would sit there, reading the pleas for help. I'd look through the traumatizing photographs of the reality at that time. I'd feel ill... and then I'd become numb. I did this for close to a month.

It wasn't sadistic or because of some weird sense of satisfaction. Not at all. I just couldn't stop looking, even though my heart was breaking. What was happening there was real. No news medium could ever make something like that up. The lists posted on these websites... the photographs... they were compiled by loved ones... who lost loved ones. This was reality media without the editing. Photojournalism at its best.

And today I find myself doing the same with Haiti. Not more than hour ago, I clicked a link posted on Facebook by a friend of mine in Japan. He mentioned that the link contained images that weren't for the faint of heart. I clicked it anyway. As I scrolled through the images of the devastation... the chaos, those same feelings began to surface. Some images were so graphic that they came with a warning, before you could view them. I did it anyway.

So... I started wondering what was wrong with me. Obviously, something had to be, if, despite getting upset, I found myself still clicking for more. But I realize now what it is about these photographs that draw me to them. It's this whole idea of fighting for... life.

This is a photograph of a search and rescue team made up of people from Brazil and China - countries from opposite ends of the earth, working together for a common cause... life.

This is a photograph of a Russian emergency worker rescuing a young child from a building, down to rubble... she's alive in his arms.

These examples are similar to what happened during the 2004 disasters as well. And it happens with mostly every natural disaster that takes place on our planet -- the whole world comes together to fight for life.

So I guess I'm wondering... why is it okay to bond together and fight for life, when we're battling Mother Nature? And why is it not okay to do the same, if we're fighting against ourselves? Isn't life worth fighting for everyday?

xo
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Images courtesy of The Boston Globe

To be in the know

"It's really starting to get to me," I said, as I stared at my apartment window between sips of hot coffee. "I wish people would just TALK!"

C and I had met up for what had now turned into our weekly coffee/dinner/shopping date. Sometimes we sat around and vented about all the things that had gotten to us during the week, and sometimes we simply allowed ourselves to indulge in classic Korean traditions -- eating, drinking and giggling like teenage girls, while wandering up and down the busy streets.

On this particular evening, we'd ventured to Cafe DaVinci, and found ourselves on the rooftop. The window from my tiny officetel looked out directly onto this rooftop, and it had only taken me two and a half months to get there.

The view from the other side was different.

"They really can see everything from here," I said, with a frown. "I should be more careful the next time I get out of the shower."

C was laughing at this point.

"Or maybe you should put on a show!" she said, laughing even harder now.

I smiled at this. If I really thought of putting on a show from my window, chances are I wouldn't just be entertaining the patrons of Cafe DaVinci... my window also looked out onto two busy billiard halls, soju bars, coffee houses and restaurants, all filled with young university students. They would be guaranteed an eyeful too.

Hmmm... my thoughts drifted off to the window again.

"This city is pretty chaotic sometimes," I said, while studying the glass shutters. Even though it was night time and my lights were turned off, I was trying to see if I could catch a glimpse of the small postcard from Toronto that was pinned to my wall.

"... And the worst part is the communication problem," C said, while looking at the other tables around us. They were filled with students from the nearby university, either taking a much deserved break from the books, or simply catching up with friends.

"It's true. I'm tired of not knowing anything that I'm supposed to know," I said with a sigh. "I mean, it's one thing to not know everything. But I'd like to know how much I'm supposed to pay in bills, before it gets deducted from my paycheck each month."

That had happened with the last paycheck. I was surprised to find a big deduction that I'd later learned made sense... but not knowing about it till after the fact had annoyed me immensely. In the days that followed, I received my hydro bill, taped to my front door, on a small piece of scrap paper. I explained this to C.

"It didn't even look official!" I said. "All I know is I had to pay the amount... which was fine... IF I knew what I was paying for."

Things had not gotten better when I went to school the next day and asked my co-teacher about this. We struggled to communicate during the best of times, and, as you can imagine, this conversation wasn't on our list of "top-five reasons to talk to each other".

Needless to say, I paid the bill. I'd pieced together the fact that it was a bill in addition to my monthly maintenance fee. And that settled that.

"... It's literally one battle at a time," I said, while releasing a breath I didn't know I was holding. "We have such wonderful times and everything is so good... then something like this happens, and it takes everything I have to not just scream."

C just looked at me.

"I know, sweetie," she said. "It's hard because instead of even trying to explain it to us, they'd rather keep quite. But then we find out in such a bad way, and it ends up being worse."

I nodded my head in agreement.

The general consensus was that some people were in situations where they were paying fees for things each month, without any explanation as to what they were for. Mine was one of these cases.

Things generally had a way of sorting themselves out, but not without a dragged out period of confusion and unnecessary stress that could have easily been avoided, had those in power bothered to talk the important talks.

"We should do something stronger than coffee next time," I said.

"Yes, girlfriend!" C said. That was classic C... up for anything through the worst of it.

xo
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Disclaimer: This is not a reflection of my overall feelings or emotions during my time here in Seoul. This was an isolated incident that sometimes reoccurs about once a month. In no way am I miserable, here, in the Land of Morning Calm. I just wanted you to know that the communication barrier is wider on some days than on others.
And it is on those days that I truly realize how far away I am from my comfort zone.
And it is on those days that I realize I'm on the adventure of a lifetime.

Who's idea was it...

... to insist upon a 23kg/bag allowance while flying internationally? Perhaps a better question is: how am I supposed to pack my life for a year into two suitcases, weighing said amount. If I go over my limit, it's a guaranteed $100/bag!

I need advice, travelers. What are your thoughts? If you note the time stamp for this blog, you'll see 3 a.m. This is not a joke... I have been sorting and packing and sorting some more, trying to figure out what goes and what stays. It isn't working at all!

I have to try again tomorrow. Is it doable? Or should I go over my limit on at least one bag and allow for the extra cost?

And I haven't even gotten to my backpack yet.

I remember packing for my trip to Cuba a couple of years back, and thinking that I wouldn't need much because I'd be in my bathing suit for at least 75 per cent of the time. I was proud of my packing skills... only to get to Cuba and realize that I wish I'd packed more clothes and accessories.

This isn't an all-inclusive vacation now.

What do I do?

xo
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Why'd I keep that?

It's a question I've been asking myself for over two weeks now, as I've spent the greater part of my spare time cleaning up the remains of the past 12 years of my life.

And each time, I'm not quite sure what the answer is.

All I know is that at the time I put the items away, it felt as though I'd always look at them as fondly. I imagined that every time I pulled out the Shakespeare paper I scored a measly C+ on, I'd look at it and say "Awesome!"

That's not quite the case.

In fact, I'm pretty irritated with the teenage version of myself, and in parts, am also furious with the twenty-something me as well.

What was I thinking holding on to every bank statement, paper, receipt, magazine, critique, clipping, cover, CD, nick-knack, stuffed animal and lanyard from years gone by?

My room is a landfill of crap! Few items of substance and a majority of dust-gathering nothingness.

The fact that I haven't searched for or even looked at any of these items for so many years should have been a warning sign.

Sigh!

Regardless, after a couple week of intense labour courtesy of my former self, I can finally see empty shelves and clean table-spaces in my room.

So far:
3 bags of clothes and accessories have gone to Goodwill
5 garbage bags of paper and old school assignments have headed to the recycling receptacles
3 boxes of books have been packed away
Approx. 20 (yes 20) pieces of makeup, hair product and expired moisture have gone out the door

And although I'm not quite done, I am starting to feel more relieved. When I first started, I went into panic at the fact that this would be such a daunting task.

There's really something liberating about cleaning away items that are reflective of yourself. You start to realize that, at the end of the day, they're just things and aren't of much substance. What matters is how and if those items added to or helped develop the person you are at the moment.

Then, you realize it's time to leave the past behind, live in the present and look forward to the future.

I'm feeling good today!

Incidentally, I also feared turning into Marjory the Trash Heap from Fraggle Rock.
It works on so many levels.

xo
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Photo courtesy of EnvironmentalGraffiti

Margarita trumps fork in the road

This summer has been chaotic, to say the least. I don't know how I've made it to the end of July without stopping in the middle of the street, looking up to the skies and yelling, "OK! I've had enough, you can stop torturing me now!"

Ok, maybe that would be slightly dramatic. But you get the idea.

My friend said it best today: "You're a goddamn yo-yo!"

I'm a yo-yo, yes I know.

So, in order to deal with this yo-yo-ness, I've had to implement emergency coping strategies to help me get through the rest of the week. I assure you, next week will result in a new list.

But for now:

1. A self-imposed margarita haze
It will knock off an hour or two of thinking time, while making things seem a bit more pleasant and less chaotic. (Note: temporary, yet delicious solution).

2. Start making phone calls
Talking kills time. Listening to the stories of others kills time. Calling friends and family and begging them to talk to me about their week will certainly have me focusing on something other than my stupid fork in the road. (Note: don't make phone calls or answer phone calls during margarita haze. Doing so might result in bigger problems than a stupid fork in the road).

3. Spend more time in the limited sunshine
Seriously, what's with this weather? In case you didn't get the memo, Mother Nature - it's summer! We spend at least six months of the year sans vitamin D, so this is a health issue. We need to stock up, so get on it. Sunshine will also lift spirits and make me want to burst into song. (Note: Hopefully not during margarita haze... or maybe...).

4. Shopping Therapy
Reasoning: will help stimulate economy. I'm doing this for the benefit of all North Americans. This isn't a selfish thing... I'm being thoughtful. Shop for all possible post-first week of August outcomes.

Repeat if necessary.

Thoughts?

xo
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Note: This post may or may not have been written in a margarita haze.

And when I get that feeling...

...it's called Textual Seething.
Textual
Seeee-heee-thing!

It’s official. We’re now living in a world where ‘texty’ words like ur, dat, l8er, cya, ttyl and omg are starting to replace those from the Oxford English Dictionary.

I remember a student in one of my university English classes who received an automatic fail for (possibly subconsciously) inserting the word ‘ur’ instead of ‘you are’ into an essay.

An honest mistake? Probably.

Truly, I don’t quite understand how people do it. How do people carry on relationships that are created on a foundation of text messages, MSN conversations and Facebook wall posts?

I’m writing this post after a lot of thought and a lot of examples that have surfaced in my life lately.

Take for example a friend I met up with a few days back. She’s seeing someone who she really likes and said that they ‘text’ a lot. This results in her reading into the texts too much, looking for hidden messages in the words being transmitted on her little screen.

“Guys don’t put a lot of thought into these things,” I said. “They just respond with whatever.”

“No way!” she exclaimed. “He admitted that he really thinks about it a lot before he sends a text out. That’s why it takes him so long to get back to me.”

Really?

You’re telling me that he thought long and hard before he sent you a message that consisted of a bunch of letters and numbers blended together, aimed at reaching your heart? And now you’re supposed to spend the next few hours trying to decipher the message in code, only to respond back with your own coded message?

Really.

Another friend who swore she’d never learn how to use a number pad on a phone to spell words out, spent the past few months scrolling through archived text messages as evidence of how her ex led her on.

“It started off nicely you know?” she said. “He’d text me cute little notes throughout the day and I’d respond back… and then, one day, the texts began to get shorter and shorter till there was nothing left. Then he disappeared."

I’m sure he didn’t disappear. He lost interest.

The funny part about that relationship is in the two months of them dating, they met face-to-face about four times.

A guy who texts you an average of eight times a day, telling you he misses you and can’t wait to see you, only makes an effort to see you four times in 2 months.

These are the days of textual relationships. Times when people rely so heavily on screened conversations, that when they find themselves face-to-face with others, they're at a loss for words.

According to Urban Dictionary Online, a textual relationship is one “with someone through texting, but never talking, meeting or interacting with them in real-life. - Someone you text alot, but would never/rarely talk to in person.”

Lovely, isn’t it?

I've heard of people being so confident through texts (someone still needs to explain to me what a 'confident text' is), but that when meeting in person, they have an altered personality.

Hmm... maaaaaaybe it's because said person doesn't know how to socialize because he/she spends so much time in front of screens! Just a thought.

I admit it. I indulge in text messaging as well. But here are some of the times or situations in which I would text:

- Running Late
- Reminder
- If it’s too late to call someone and you really need to ask them something
- A random message to your so and so, reminding them of your tête-à-tête from the night before…. or warning them of things to come (admittedly this one would be a ton of fun!)

I've actually stopped communications with some people because I couldn't keep up with their daily stream of texts. One said person took it personally when I didn't respond to his 20 texts per day.

Again, nothing personal -- I guess I'm just not texty enough for ya!

If it’s a special occasion, you’re better off sending them an e-card, calling them or writing a letter. THAT shows you care… Sorry folks, but I’ve never appreciated a “Birthday Text” or a "Congrats Text."

We make an effort to get to a computer and check our e-mail an average of three times a day… a simple note to your friend with actual words will go a long way in these times of html and "write your message in 140 characters or less."

And, dear Mister, call me old-fashioned, but I refuse to have textual relations with you.

xo
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Note: These cartoons were found through Google Images. Credit to the artists.

Pixel Invasion

I can't decide what's worse:

When I step away from my desk and she proceeds to sit in my chair and click through my browsers... or when she stands over my shoulder and watches my screen as I type. 

xo

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Global Footprints

It's been strange spending the second half of my life on this side of the planet.

I've spent exactly half my life in the east, and the other half here... and I sometimes still feel disjointed. I figured I'd someday get to a point where both halves of my life would meet in this invisible middle. And that perhaps all the things that confused me as a teen trying to battle the values of the east while trying to fit in with the west would somehow start to make sense.

Hasn't quite happened yet.

Everyday I am faced with new challenges and thought processes that force me to choose sides. Do I maintain my eastern values and pay attention to what was embedded into me as a child? Or do I go with the western flow and put myself first?

Some things I want to do might be considered selfish by eastern standards. But if I stay true to western influence, I will be doing the right thing.

It's this constant yo-yo of choices I've wanted to make lately, that's been gnawing away at my soul. How do I find balance?

A lot of people I know were born here, with immigrant parents or immigrant grandparents. Aside from their households, they've pretty much had a western education in terms of external influences.

Others have come here as adults, completely keen on tossing aside their eastern chips, trading them instead, for a western thought process so forward, it goes beyond the norm even by North American standards.

So again, how do I find balance with a dozen in the east and a dozen in the west? And if and when I do, how can I know I'm not hurting those I care about... those who've helped me get to this point?

It's a lot to process and I'm trying to take it one moment at a time. But sometimes the gates to my thoughts swing wide open and I can't stop the the flood of emotions from just overwhelming me.

xo
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On rainy days and change

I enjoyed the rain today. 

I mean really enjoyed it! Something about the smell of fresh earth mixing in the wind sends me into this trance. It's hard to describe. All I can say is that it relaxes me in ways that I never expected.

Today, as I sat out on my patio and let the droplets of rain hit my skin while I enjoyed the 28 degrees spring weather, I couldn't help but take in a deep breath and feel myself being filled with optimism. 

This is the best kind of rain -- the kind that lets you know a change is near. 

The rain from today will trigger the trees and plants that have been sleeping through the winter. Something in those droplets will remind the earth that it's time to wake up and become vibrant again. In a matter of weeks, the browns, greys and blacks will turn to lush shades of greens, with speckles of bright colours. 

And it carries forward... Somehow the earth waking up will translate to the people who see this and they too may find their moods changing.

Or maybe not. Perhaps I shouldn't speak for others. 

But I know it works for me. 

I smelled the fresh earth for the first time in months today, and I found myself looking forward. 

And I kind of liked it! 

xo

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As in recent posts, a song  - Here's Gene Kelly singing a song from one of my favourite movies.

Enjoy!

You might call me crazy

I've been talking to my computer a lot. Like, really talking to it.

Every morning when I open my laptop, I say, "Good morning, Macintosh! Tell me you have some interesting news today... please!"
... See? Crazy!

It's become a habit, though. You see, it started a few months ago, when I'd refresh my e-mail account about five times in a sitting, with hopes that if I stared at it long enough, someone would send me... something. Anything.

It began with sources for my stories. I'd pick a day and send out an arsenal of e-mails.

"Hi, I'm S. This is what I'm doing. This is why I'm e-mailing you and this is how you can help. Help! Sincerely, S"

I'd send out about 8-10 of these per sitting.

Then in the days that followed, I'd do the ritual. Open up my inbox and stare. Then, refresh, refresh, refresh! Usually, there would be nothing. Sometimes, there would be the odd message from Facebook... and sometimes, a bill statement (I really should have stuck to paper billing).

This soon ventured off into other aspects. Sources turned into dinner requests, dinner requests turned into internship applications and those turned into... well, nothing.

Which is why I've resorted to talking to Macintosh. Perhaps if I suck up to the machine from the moment I wake up to the time my eyes close before bed... something will give, right?

I figure, maybe it's not an e-mail-only thing. Maybe it's the karma I'm sending out through the wires(less) and clicks. Maybe if I'm nice to the machine, the Man will get back to me.

So until then, I've got nothing to lose, right?

Dear Macintosh,
I love you. Please tell them to e-mail me with some good news!

Thanks!

Sincerely,

Me

xo
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Rush of blood during rush-hour

I was furious. I couldn't believe that these grown men in suits and slacks were actually behaving like cavemen. I mean, isn't that supposed to be some sort of cliche? Men, acting like cavemen?

But here they were, at 2 seperate subway stops -- showcasing the manners of apes.

I was heading downtown for work today, which meant that I had to battle the daily rush-hour in the morning. I didn't mind this and didn't give it another thought, after having experienced the routine daily over the past summer. However, as I boarded the train, I was ambushed from the side by this fedora-wearing-forty-something who felt the need to elbow me in the ribs in his rush to get on, even though the train was clearly not going anywhere.

I chalked this up to my imagination, even though the sting in my side clearly assured me that that had actually happened.

Then, as I stood in my spot, coffee mug in one hand while the other balanced the files I needed to take back to the office, Mr. Fedora decided that he wanted to occupy the seat that became vacant right in front of me.

Literally, as the lady vacated her seat, Mr. Fedora came running in from about five feet away, and squeezed himself between my foot and the seat. "Really?" I thought to myself. "This guy cannot be serious."

It became apparent to me very fast that he knew what he was doing and in some respect, he knew how shady it was of him as well. He couldn't look at me for the rest of the ride.

I let this go as well and continued on, while trying my best to not shoot daggers through his fedora with my dirty looks.

About three stops later, another man boarded the train. This one was clearly a student, as he toted a backpack and a venti-denti-moccha-skinny-beluga-latte. Classic. Apparently originality is dead as well. After standing for a stop, a seat a few people away from him became vacant. Three people stood around him. Another suit and tie shmuck, a pregnant lady and myself.... you can clearly see where this is going. Did Backpack Joe step aside and offer the seat to the pregnant lady? Did he offer it to me? After making eye-contact with me, he swaggered over to the seat and continued to look at the floor. He proceeded to stare at the floor all the way to Yonge&Bloor.

Honestly, this was something right out of a Seinfeld episode. I remember that the pregnant lady looked at me and we shared a knowing "Chivalry.is.officially.dead" smirk.

Ok, maybe I should back track. Lets just say that in the 21st century, there's no room for cavemen and there's certainly even less room for gallant knights, (come on, ladies... you really don't want a man in steel armour reciting sonnets to you on a daily basis, do you?) But, is common kindness and consideration lost in our society as well?

A couple of stops after BackPack Joe took his seat, an elderly LADY who had witnessed the entire thing, got up and asked the pregnant lady to sit down -- and she graciously accepted. It was an obvious struggle to stand.

I got off at my stop clearly fumed. I was furious. What's wrong with our society when these bursts of common sense no longer even fly through one's mind?

It's times like these when I am thankful for StraightFromTheCurls. I find happiness in knowing that there is, even perhaps in the smallest sense, a chance that I am drawing negative attention to these individuals in Cyberspace. Maybe, just maybe, they might come across StraightFromTheCurls and realize how royally they've pissed me off. Maybe they'll do right next time.

Maybe.

xo
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I'm cleaning out my...

... Network.

It was cool back when I was in high school. Even during those few years in university. I enjoyed seeing my list of friends grow and span across my various classes. I loved seeing my social circles crisscross. I loved seeing how many mutual friends I had with each person. I'll admit that sometimes I even secretly enjoyed that the random guy who sat quietly at the back of the class took the initiative to look me up on the Internet, and add me as one of his very own friends.

But now, it's gotten out of hand.

I can't stand that there's so many people who know my business! Before (and I'm still talking about my generation, not my mothers), there were times when people actually had to e-mail or pick up the phone to find out what was going on. It took effort and it took initiative. It meant that you actually gave a damn about the person you were taking the time to talk to.

Now, if you go on an adding spree and add every person you've know from grade school and high school and university and college and work and the street and even from that shady club you don't want to admit ever having been to.... if all these people become your "friends" in social-networking-land... they're all going to know everything that you're up to... without you even so much as batting an eyelash in their direction.

Kind of creepy, isn't it? I think so.

So I continued on my cleaning frenzy. It took me over two hours to do it and as a result I probably have carpal tunnel syndrome... but I managed to delete every public message written to me on my "wall," since 2006. There were over 2,500 in total. I can't believe I let it add up to so much. What was I thinking? Anyway, it's all gone.

Then, as soon as I could bring myself back to my computer, I worked on the "friends list."

Now, I've been shortlisting this one since the summer. But I go back to it every few weeks and continue to shorten it. I just don't see how people I haven't even talked to in 4-5 years should have any right to know what's happening in my life. Unless of course, either they or I make the decision to get in touch. I don't want my life to be one for voyeurs. Not that it's anything fabulous or anything. I don't have a crazy glamourous life or one that's filled with cricket sounds either. My point is that I use this network to keep in touch with the ones I want to stay in touch with -- friendships, networking people, work people and others. I have my reasons for the ones I want to keep in touch with and I am sure that those who stay in touch with me (past silently creeping in on my albums and "wall") have their reasons as well.

Other than that, I think everyone else has had their chance at peeking in on my life without knocking on the door to say hello! To you people, I say "time's up!" Before you know it, you're going to be cut as well... not because I don't like you or because I think the worst of you... but simply because of the fact that if we haven't talked to each other in 4-5 years, chances are we won't talk for another 4-5 years. And in that time, things might change in my life.... or they may not. But I don't want to think about that, knowing you're being a creep, keeping tabs on me, and not saying one word. It's not cool.

My reasons for it are also simple: When I come online, I am innundated with numerous updates - photos, status updates, postings and so forth. I don't need reasons to stay online longer than I already do. I spend enough time in the computer anyway, because of school and work. The last thing I need is to spend time going through Susy Q's latest baby album, when I didn't even know she was on baby number three. Ya? Waste of my time. And usually, I only realize it when it's too late and 1/2 an hour has passed with me getting updated on Susy Q's life -- when I didn't care to begin with. Her damn update made me care.

Ok.

Anyway, if you're reading this, don't worry, I won't cut you out. Yet! ;)

I kid. Luv ya!

xo
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