Why I'm on the Facebook

I've long resisted signing up to the massive social networking sites MySpace and Facebook. MySpace, especially, in that its members are often the loud prattish kids that I would not tolerate in real life and the pages look like Geocities homepages from 1998 have come back to haunt us.

I certainly had concerns about future employers looking at my personal history, which I'm not particularly keen on. I already have a blog and I already have a place to share my photos. So why bother?

Mostly, because my address book is always out of date, and I am notorious for not keeping in contact with people. That's one of the main reasons for this blog, by the way. This way, I don't feel so guilty for not spending massive amounts of time sending e-mail to everyone.

A lot of my friends are or were at university, so I've signed up to the Facebook. It's popular enough to count as an epidemic, as far as I can tell. I've long suspected that it's addictive, and I'm now discovering the awful truth.

Discovering old friends. The status updates. The wall-writing. The silly groups. Oh my.

Before long, I'll be a horrible Facebook junkie and I'll be forced to close my account like one chap described in the Guardian.

Bon Jovi understands

I booked an 8-week course, and I'm just past the half-way mark. I've already learnt more here than I expected; not just German, but about myself.

My first couple of weeks were a bit confused, but I knew they would be: I was changing my life pretty drastically. Then I started to wonder if I was too late to learn; I seemed to have a lot of trouble in class. At the same time, I felt like the outsider at home. I wouldn't say there were problems, but I didn't find myself "clicking" with anyone.

Part of it boils down to simply being in a different situation than the other students. Most people in this school are here on a break from University, and they're here on their parents' dime.

A few weeks later and I'm feeling much more comfortable with the people and the situation, not to mention the language.

Where will I be living in two months' time? I can't really say at this stage, but it'll be wherever the work is. As much as I'd love to dedicate the year to studenty life, my savings only last so long before they need a top-up...

Art, language, society, weather

There's a wonderful new place on Oxford Street, opposite the enormous Freddie Mercury. I'm not sure my new discovery has a name, or even what it is — it's like a gang of street artists broke into an unused retail space and covered it with subversive creations like Santa's Ghetto and the Heinz Beans Looter.

If you're in the area, do check it out (before they get busted?).

Also in the area, I had my first language swap with some friends I met through work (one German, one Polish). We managed to thoroughly disturb the whole coffee shop practicing the difference between the shh sound of of Polish s and the ssh sound of Polish ś. Slavic languages sure have a whole lot of different whooshing and hissing noises; my poor English ears can only begin to discern them!

Some fellow tube passengers noticed my copy of GQ Magazine in German and we actually struck up a friendly conversation. This may not seem noteworthy unless you're familiar with the mandatory surliness rules for London transport. To be fair, the conversation did take a turn for the worse when they discovered my vegetarian tendencies. They seemed to consider it a kind of frightening disability, on par with losing one's legs or waking up deaf.

Also, a tornado caused some grief a couple of kilometers from my house. My own roof appears to be intact!