27 Feb 2007

The Rise and Fall of MySpace

I've had a week from Helven. That is that gray area where Hell starts and Heaven ends, where you cannot really tell if the Sulphur is burning you too much or the divine winds are calming you. I've laughed and I have cried. I've loved and I have not loved so much. I do get motion sickness, especially emotions motion. Those are the most horrible of all rides.

I've had to question my feelings for the most important people in my life and been through what I'd call the Litmus Test of Life. I've had to put myself in improbable situations, because that was the only way I'd make the crucial decisions concerning my life's direction and my innermost feelings.

Now, I don't regret things in my life, but of times like this, I strongly feel I do. Like joining MySpace. I joined it so that I could talk bout my life in a space that I did not feel I owed anyone the decency to try and be normal. In a space where I would rant and rave and not risk the probability of having the recipient turn me off or start avoiding me. In a space where I could say what I thought about people in my life, thoughts that I don't have the courage to express to them. Yet. In a space where I could open my heart for the world to judge, without necessarily having to sit through the retribution. Not that I fear retribution, criticism or judgment. It's the way that the world delivers it that annoys me. The backstabbing, the pointy fingers, the hushed tones, and the downcast glances…are what I can't take.

MySpace offered the chance to display Me(rcy). Unplugged. And now as I write this, I'm faced with the hugest dilemma ever. I cannot say what has happened through the week. Because it involves MySpacers who are very close to me. Not that I have anything bad to say about my friends, but I'm sure that some of the things would put some in trouble, me included, and some would tell them what I really think of them and well, that wont go down well. Not even with a cup of hot cocoa.

So, I'm just going to start sourcing for a new blogging page, where no one knows me and I don't get to spend time with my readers, lest I'm tempted to write about them. And hope that the man in my life does not know about lest I get out of line. For me now, MySpace is loosing its allure and its anonymity. No that they was much anonymity there anyway, but well, then, still.


Note: I'm moving all my blogs from MySpace

8 Feb 2007

Of birdwatching grooms

Haven't talked for a while… well, things been happening, and not really happening at the same time. I feel like I've been progressing, only to look back and feel like I've going under, and since I my eyes are still above the ground, I do not notice that my depth of field is getting smaller***

DVP (Danish Viking Prince) left for Uganda, for what is meant to be a month. Meant to be since he happened to mention in passing that he got himself 2 months visa. Now, I have no problem with the freedom he enjoys at being away (sounds like he is trying to get fresh air away from me… I swear it's not like that!!), but for a guy who is going to be gone from me for the next one and half or so years….

He loves the outdoors, no sweat, but Kenya is known for its great outdoor too!! And I'm always happy to relinquish the love-hold (mmmh) for my partner's hobbies and interest. I mean, he has threatened to leave me at the altar…. hold on, I'm jumping way ahead of myself here. Let me start well…

He is a birdwatcher. Not the 'Oh-look-what-a-cute-little-bird-that-is!' kind of birdwatcher. He is the 'That's-the – Seychelles-Magpie-Robin- (Copsychus sechellarum) -only-178-of-them-in-the-world-as-of-2005…' kind of birdwatcher. The kind that will leave bed at 5am to watch the birds, the kind tht will be kisisng you then whisper 'Beautiful' and I'll eb smilling with all the adoration and he will say ' Not you, the Rose-breasted Grosbeak on that tree' and even 'oh' will be too much a word for me to say then. The kind that once told me a story of a birdwatcher who left his own wedding to go see a rare that rarer bird that had just been spotted. The said groom had to choose between being in his wedding read- risk loosing his future wife, and go see some f-ing (personal feeling) bird.

The fact that he could identify with the said groom's predicament made me shiver… down to my last nerve ending! He could what? See what a tough decision the man had to make? Mmmh. So that's here the altar leaving threat came in. And, being the woman that I am, the one who does not let anything – not even a double breasted cuckoo (if that's what's it's called) get in way of my happyness (tells you I've watched a movie recently). So I vowed, to him, that if ever we get married, No one in the wedding hall (or whatever we get married in) will have a cell phone. If I have to pay a bouncer to perform a body search at the entrance and confiscate all cellphone..or any other type of communicating gadget, so be it! And if that is not enough, the wedding will be held in he remotest of islands where not even smoke signals, echoes across hills or even drum beats work.. He got the picture alright. And to drive the point home, as we watched Apolcalypto, I thought, ' couldn't get a more perfect setting for my wedding…if I indeed end up with the DVP.

I realize that I have talked a lot about wedding… funny. Thing is, I don't even know if I want one.. with him or any one else. I mean, every time I see a wedding dress (and I'm not talking about those that make you look like you're about to defy gravity and use it as an air balloon for your honeymoon destination) and look like the tailor had nothing else to do with all the yards of laces in his shop)

Gotta go now.. stolen enough company time.. not that I feel guilty or anything- I mean, who bothers when I spend my lunch hours working?

***depth of field: the distance between the clearest and dicern-able object and the eye. Used in filming. Basically.. how much can the etye see that is not blurred?.. that is your DOF (don't quote me though, I caught the teacher at the door when I was walking into that class.)