Stalking and Serendipity

It’s crazy to think that just two short years ago, I didn’t have facebook. I don’t know what I did with my time. How I have changed since the good old days of 2013. Since that time, I have developed a new hobby... facebook stalking. It really is wonderful. The pleasure, joy, entertainment and amusement I get from stalking people on facebook is truly unfathomable… I like to think of myself as an explorer, setting off to undiscovered lands; whose page will I end up in this time? Or better yet, as a detective, searching for clues and curiousness in others' lives...

Usually the stalking starts out fairly innocently… I promise myself to just have a look at some recent photos… However, some silly people have something stupid like 500 photos (or more) of themselves in various states of disarray. At about photo 350 or 400 the adrenaline begins to wear off and I become aware of what I am doing - facebook stalking… And I don't like it when I become aware of the fact that I am facebook stalking; it makes me feel uneasy. The uneasiness usually starts at about photo 350 or 400, because that's when the victim has started to look like a small unidentifiable child, who I have trouble picking out of the photos. In a perfect world, this uneasiness about no longer being able to recognise the person I am facebook stalking would terminate my stalking of them. But - news flash - we do not live in a perfect world. Sometimes I even feel proud of my level of dedication to facebook stalking and justify my continued stalking to myself, reasoning that all people with over 500 photos of themselves on a social networking site are positively screaming ‘facebook stalk me until it’s creepy.’ I feel no remorse.

Interestingly, however, the person that I facebook stalk the most is myself. There I said it; I am narcissistic. Perhaps that is sad; perhaps it is normal – I don’t know these things. I do know, however, that the way I appear to the internet world is a curious thing and it’s something that I analyse and consider and then reanalyse and reconsider. I look at my photos and wonder what other people think when they facebook stalk me. Who do they think I am? Do they think my life looks awesome? Do they judge what I comment? Do they analyse whose stuff I like? Or is that just me paying far too much attention to myself?  Sometimes I facebook stalk other people and think that they must have the most wonderful life. Then I facebook stalk myself and remember that appearances aren’t everything.

But anyway, the best part of my week occured while I was facebook stalking. I had gotten to the 350/400 photo mark and was starting to feel slightly uncomfortable with my dedication to facebook stalking this particular person. The person of interest had started looking noticably younger and I was no longer able to fool myself that this was just a cheeky update on their personal life. Anyway, at this one particular photo, as I lay in bed stalking this person, I saw the number of likes on this photo drop from 10 to 9. I couldn’t believe it – right before my very eyes! How serendipitous! How comforting it was to know that I was not the only person engaging in inappropriate facebook stalking. Then I spent a good few minutes speculating how this event had arisen… Had my fellow stalker decided that they didn’t much like the photo anymore? Or, far more scandalous, the people in the photo? Alternatively, had they accidentally liked the photo, thus giving away their ninja stealth position and revealing their true location in the photo library 2011 archives? Had they hastily tried to take back the like, but alas, finding it was too late? Had the damage been done? Had the little red notification symbol had appeared on the stalkees facebook? 

I am ashamed to admit that I have had some personal experience with this accidental liking business. I’ve felt the stomach drop, the palms get clammy and the heart start pounding with the absolute horror of accidentally liking somebody’s post… Somebody with whom communication was off limits... Or when you are just that bit too far back in their photos for it to be considered socially acceptable to like a photo.

In conclusion, a tip for young players: I find that the likelihood of accidentally liking or commenting or sharing something when facebook stalking is exponentially higher when on my cellphone, rather than my computer. Or maybe my thumbs are just fat. Either way, as an extra precaution, I no longer facebook stalk on my phone. Unless it's an emergency, in which case I am extremely careful about where I put my grimy little mits on that unforgiving touch screen.  

I love facebook stalking people. I really do. And if you’re sitting here reading this, you might very well get facebook stalked on a semi-regular basis (yes, I have a roster for who I facebook stalk).

Don’t worry if you don’t have facebook, no need to feel left out; sometimes I google people too. But I feel that’s a story for another day.

Happy facebook stalking!

Chat

I haven’t been writing for a while – I was on holiday (literally) and then I was on geek camp (and still am – but I have my hour of allocated free time now…). I have been having a lot of interesting interactions with people lately. While I was on my holiday, I was skiing in the beautiful New Zealand, with two (sometimes three) delightful health professionals. I love health professionals. My parents are health professionals. A lot of my nearest and dearest are health professionals. I deeply admire them, while simultaneously being completely uninterested about their whole undertaking. I try to avoid meeting them in a professional setting as much as possible.

New Zealand

Powder days

So the skiing was great – the snow was great; the company was great; the weather was great (you know it’s good when I say great four times to describe the same activity – that’s the most excited I ever get about anything). What more could a girl ask for? Better chat; that's what I'd ask for. In the car on the way up the (very windy and steep) ski field road, I had to listen (on more than one occasion) to horror stories about car accidents, skiing accidents and health ailments in general. Then on the chair lift, I had to listen to arms being held on by a tendon, before being amputated and this person being left holding on to this arm. I’m not a squeamish person, but I don't think that this is acceptable small talk.  And you'd hope it would improve.  It didn’t. The skiing did, but the conversation didn't. Opportunity cost, I suppose.

Chairlift conversations...

And then I spent last weekend hanging out at a hostel in Sydney, catching up with a very dear friend of mine and his girlfriend. They were fine – they’re chat was acceptable. But hostels… holey moley… The people that populate hostels are incredible. I don’t know how much time you’ve spent in hostels, but I can tell you now, that they are filled with the #traveller #intrepid #adventurer type of people that talk 24/7 about their intrepid and worldly experiences that make them so worldly and adventurous. I find it very draining. I’m more of the #nobodygivesashit type of traveller. Live and let live; that’s my motto. Hostel conversations also follow a very formulaic structure too – how long have you been on the road? Where’s home? What you are doing here? Where are you going next? My #nobodygivesashit attitude was great for this, as the answer to the ‘where are you going next’ question was ‘science camp’ which is a refreshing conversation stopper, should you ever need one. The #traveller #intrpeid #adventurer types don’t really know what to do with this…

Winter in Australia

And now I am on science (geek) camp, which was initially a relief – finally around people who are on my buzz; nerdy, geeky, perhaps a little socially awkward, like myself. I arrived and was suitably out nerded in the first five minutes of conversation when one of my new found nerd-friends cracked a joke about oceanography, which I didn’t understand. Even after an explanation the following day, I still don’t understand…  It’s all very ‘hush-hush’ here at science camp too. We aren’t allowed to take any photos or run away (apparently there is a firing range really close to where we are). It makes me feel like I am in District 9 or something actually cool… In reality, I am just in The Middle of Nowhere, Australia.

Sydney Opera House

There are some smooth rollers though; a girl introduced herself as Jasmine. The guy next to her turned and said, very smoothly, ‘Jasmine’s are my favourite flower.’ When he was complimented on his florist skills, he quipped he preferred 'the term botanist.'

Australia's East Coast

I don't know what I expected, but so there is so much science on geek camp… I haven’t been this overwhelmed with science for a while… So much to not understand… But there have been cool parts too. We had a talk from a guy who is in the top 100 candidates to go on a one way mission to Mars in 2027. I hope that he gets to go, so that then I can say that I’ve had a talk from an astronaut (it’s actually all about me, in case you were wondering).

Science.