Goodbye Facebook

A month ago I did something crazy. I left Facebook.
Now to be honest, I'm not entirely sure who will read this blog as in the past my readers were all my Facebook friends. So welcome reader! You are either my mother who checks my blog relatively regularly despite my poor dedication levels or you are some stranger who has happened across this post by accident on some virtual adventure.
This isolation is, I suppose, one of the downsides of being deactivated as a social media presence. How will I hear about all the parties now? Who will invite me to hen dos or theatre performances? From where will my liberal political views gain their evidence? How will I find out what my friends' lives hold?
The only answer I can hope for here is: real life.
This will take a little more effort on my part. At the moment I am happily living in a bubble of semi-ignorance but of course that cannot continue. With isolation comes ossification and I did not leave Facebook to become out of touch. It may sound counter-intuitive but I left Facebook to feel more involved, more connected, more engaged.
What I hope for is that without the easy option of browsing my friends' walls, I will be more likely to pick up the phone (which I have always been very awkward about using....ummmm.....), or better, arrange to meet. We can have the joy of giving news in person instead of being met with "oh yes, I saw that on Facebook." I can hear the good and the bad: stories about holidays instead of just the perfectly posed pictures; worries that never make it to that not-real world because they don't require a 'like' but a cup of tea and a hug; spur of the moment jokes; debates about the minutiae of life however profound or silly they might be.
I also hope I will read the news, watch documentaries, look with my own eyes and form my own opinions instead of relying what Facebook gives me: carefully selected guardian articles, petitions, armchair activism that means nothing. Yes those sources are valid and I often share the leanings I see on my wall but I don't feel truly equipped to be sure of my opinion that way.
I've been gone for a month now and I'm sure very few people have noticed that I am. But I have noticed that instead of scanning my news feed when I'm on the bus, I observe the world I am passing through. Instead of wasting time clinking on all those silly articles about what child stars are doing now, I am reading a book or playing the ukulele or colouring or...
However!! I can hardly get on my high horse about this. I am still on Instagram. I do waste a little time every few days scanning through the National Geographic posts or getting holiday envy for the travel bloggers. Nobody's perfect and I like the pretty pictures, OK?!
But I do feel so good for claiming some of my life back. I have freed myself from online so that I have time...to blog. Ha!

What I want for my birthday

The day before I turned 13 I cried.
"Urgh," I thought, "growing up..."
Far from wanting to be an adult, wanting my freedom like everyone else seemed to, I was dubious about how much I'd enjoy it. First there would be that awkward teenage-ness where everything would get all emotional and solitary, when my body would be replaced by one that I was happy to forego the inconvenience of.
I'd have to stop playing make-believe (yes, I still played it at 12) and start pretending to be interested in boys and make-up and Bacardi Breezers; start to make decisions about what I thought about women's rights, God and Coldplay.
Then obviously I'd end up doing my own laundry, cooking, having to use public transport... Worst, get a job. Maybe I'd have to do the same thing everyday forever!
All things worthy of my tears.
And this year, out of nowhere (how do these things come around so fast), I will reach the grand old age of a quarter of a century.
"Urgh," I think, "growing up..."
Basically I still think I'm not an adult yet. I have a job, I do my own laundry, I cook occasionally. I have decided women should have rights(!); God does exist but is probably not a bearded old man sat on a cloud; and Coldplay remind me of one of my best friends and butterflies falling from the ceiling. Bacardi Breezers are gross but I like the fire whisky leaves in your throat. I like drinking it when I wear red lipstick.
I still wish I could play make believe.
Those fears are gone I suppose. But now I have new fears. I'm pretty sure my habit of raising my eyebrows a little too often is going to make my forehead stick like that soon. Should I start using anti-wrinkle cream?
Someone I met recently asked me why I wasn't married with babies yet. "I had 3 when I was your age," he told me, "women can't leave it too late."
WHAT!!! NOOOOOO!!
Not that I haven't heard this before....yes Nanna, I'm talking to you. But let me state quite firmly and clearly, right now: I will not get married until I decide its a good idea, and I will not have babies until I am not so keen on having a flat stomach. Besides, I'd much rather spend my time and money on seeing new places, eating good food, and ballet classes than on an expensive meal for everyone I know and a lot of nappies.
I fear that I might have to think about getting a pension soon or risk living on £30 a week.
I fear that I'm too unaware of what's going on in the world to change it. I imagine I'd be a marvellous Queen of the World if I was better informed.
I mainly fear that I'll forget how good life is. I don't really know why as I distinctly remember how sweet it was being 12. But what if I get to 50, 70, whatever, and think that I didn't do anything. That I didn't make the most of it all. That would make me sad.
And so I'm starting a project. Laugh at me if you will but I like it.
I watched a film recently, Before Midnight, that is basically a snapshot of two people's life. A fragment of time. There is no conclusion and very little really happens, but it's beautiful (as are the others Before Sunset and Before Sunrise). In this film, one of the characters mentions a letter he wrote himself. 22 year old him to 42 year old him. I don't know what this letter said, whether it offered advice or support or... but it gave me the idea of making a time capsule for myself. A birthday present for me at 50 (not old of course Mother) when I probably will have a few laughter lines, and may have decided to spend 18 years contributing to the over-population of the world.
So I wrote myself a letter, just like I was writing to a pen-pal. I wrote about where I was, what I was doing. I mentioned my friends and the cat which was beside me. I spoke about things I intended to do soon and the song that was stuck in my head that day.
50 year old me will probably enjoy a)remembering an otherwise uneventful day that in all probability would be lost in the void of time, b)the hand-written nature of the letter as I imagine in 25 years handwriting will be a lost skill and we will communicate only by teleportation.
So, what I would like for my birthday this year is a handwritten letter from you. It doesn't have to be about something important or momentous. It certainly doesn't have to be sentimental or tell me that I'm wonderful (although feel free if you can't help but sing my praises).
If you want a letter in return I'm happy to reciprocate. I write a cracking letter and I know everyone likes post.
When I finally open these letters in 2038 I will be so inspired by the mundane/not wonders of your lives that maybe I'll put you in the book I'll write on the whole, lovely, dripping-in-nostalgia project. Cross my heart, I won't read them until then.

I leave you with a little song:

Goodbye travel, for now.

And so we arrive at the end of my first stint of travelling. I have of course learnt fluent Hindi, begun to save the world and "found myself."
Except that I've done none of those things.
My knowledge of Hindi extends to Nameste and Hatcha (if they are even spelled correctly) and the ever useful head wobble...Kirsty will confirm my mastery of this spontaneous and brilliant movement..."Did you just wobble your head at me?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN? Stop it!!"
The world is far to big and messy for me to save in 3 months. I need at least 4.
As for finding myself, I'm not aware of ever losing myself. I still don't know what I'm doing, now or at any future point..but what is it that the Sunscreen Song says? "Some of the most interesting people I ever knew didn't know what they wanted to do with their lives at 40." Everyone knows that is the voice of wisdom. If only I'd heeded the always wear sunscreen part. Maybe I wouldn't have a peely nose now.
So what did I get out of this?
Well, I saw some amazing places. Quick Top 3:
Annapurna Trail
Khajuraho Temples
Sunrise on the Varanasi Ganges
Did some great things:
Motorbikes around the hills of Shimla
Houseboat on the Kerelan Backwaters
Camel ride in the Rajastan desert
Some not so great moments/character building episodes:
Attempt kidnap in Khajuraho by diamond smugglers
Being stalked in Ooty by a man who freely admits it "I' ve been following you for an hour...I fell over three times."
Being stuck at Patna.
Acquired some great catchphrases (including movement):
Bam! (pelvic thrust with sunbathing arms...2 bams each side)
Big Dal Bhat
Hello sir, Jeff? Kristy?
Ice cream?.....you look as if you like ice cream.
Small fat baby
(phonetically) connetichek! (Dutch for super crazy)
.....am I boring you with in jokes?
And met some awesome people. No top 3 here..you all deserve to be named :D So thanks to Jure (you are always number 1!), TomTom, Jiga, Phil and Roy (our biker boys), Drew, Ismail and Faran, David, Amrit (a wonderful guide) and Krishna (a machine)... and last but not least, Holland, card games cheaters and tellers of riddles, Tjerk and Hicham.
Boys, you all made our trip!
But not as much as one person who I not only love but would tolerate for at least 97 years of happy marriage: my travel wife. I'm already planning our next venture so start saving. And expect me to invite myself over a lot..I can't sleep alone anymore.
So I had the best time basically. Can't believe I'm returning to real life. You know I not only haven't had to work for months, I haven't even had to lift a finger..how do I make tea again? I'm back on Thursday though so pop the kettle on, will you?