I’m not totally out of touch with technology, I actually spend a fair amount of time on it. Writing stories, mucking about on facebook. Trying to find out the name of that actor who was married to that tall woman who always wore green, before the husband gets there first. High level stuff really. I would like to say it’s improved me as a person but except for the writing it hasn’t, on any level. But then do I want it to? I won’t do Twitter. I would be living life on line without actually living at all. It’s bad enough that with facebook as funny, poignant and unfair things happen, where I would once smile and look forward to telling the husband, best friend, dodgy cousin. And I still do but ahead of that comes a warm feeling. I can post it on facebook. Fb friends will laugh and cry, even offer advice. It sounds a bit sad when I put it like that.
I have to admit that sometimes (quite often actually) I wake up in the middle of the night and wrack my befuddled brain. After three or four glasses of wine, did I reply to someone’s tragedy or triumph in a scathing, uncaring way? Did I make light of someone’s achievement or share too much of myself? Did I let my real self, the one that rants to the husband without political correctness, out there posting indiscriminately like a mad woman? Up to this time I haven’t actually done that, unless you include the time I joined the P&F at my sons’ school. Leaning tipsily over an email from the president (of the P&F that is) who was braying for new blood. Sipping my second glass of red as I imagined myself being competent and capable, admired by all. People hanging off my wise words as I swept majestically through the school grounds. The experience wasn’t quite like that but they didn’t ask me to leave. At least not straight away.
I have a mobile phone, doesn’t everyone? Perhaps you don’t. My address book is filled with contacts of the husbands. Hardware in our house filters through a hierarchy. Husband, No.1 son and then me. No.2 son would be ahead of me except for the fact he attends a school where technology is eschewed. Finally I have a touch screen phone but I haven’t filled it with my friends and family’s numbers. And it isn’t because I don’t how to enter these details. Alright it is. But there is something freeing about being out there where no one can contact me. Except for those I was fool enough to give my number. Not you, dear reader, obviously. I am always giddy with joy to hear from you.
Getting to the point and yes there is one, I am creeping inch by inch into a virtual world. A new world where I can rant and talk bollocks, practice the art of irony in print. Use it as a platform for a short story or two. Maybe get a few followers that I’m not related to or have blackmailed. I have coffee and chocolate in constant supply and I may be big bottomed but I like to think I am still wide eyed. What do you say? Would you read my blog? I can’t promise anything but I’ll try not to waffle, I’ll endeavour to write meaningful trite and not offend anyone. Technology’s great. You can’t see my eyes dart to the right (or the left), I can never remember which way means I’m lying. You’ll just have to trust me. This is my first blog and new things can be a bit scary. I’m taking it seriously and I won’t be writing it after a few glasses of wine. Not unless you absolutely insist.