The power of Facebook

fb octopus

I know. My talents are wasted.

I seem to be dabbling in a fair bit of web-type work at the moment with a new webpage for an association I work for on contract. We had a proper professional set it up in WordPress so a numpty like me could actually manage it without popping a hernia. The old one was a target for hackers (I have no idea why) and was in Joomla, which, it turns out, I hate with a passion.

I am also developing a new webpage in WordPress (in which tips and tricks from the professional setup I’m working with have come in handy) for an association I do work for the love of the club in particular and the World Game in general (that’s either soccer or football, depending on where you live).

As part of all this digital dabbling, Facebook has to get involved at some point and today has definitely shown me the amazing tentacles of power this social media mega-monster possesses.

Currently, my phone is beeping every few minutes due to the fact it’s logged into Facebook (constantly) and I’m carrying on conversations and swapping quips with: high school friends, most of which I haven’t actually laid eyes on for at least 10 years, if not more; soccer friends, who live just up the road or on the other side of town; people I barely know, only through association with the same club and; old friends from way back who saw a picture my sister in law took and put on a nation-wide weather page and messaged me to ask if she was related.

How’s that for multitasking?

I’m not a regular status updater. I will admit to being partial to Facestalking most of the time. Sometimes, though, I do go through a stage where I want to tell the world what I had for lunch. To be fair, that stage was mainly when we traveled through Japan and Europe and it seemed only reasonable to make everyone I knew sick with jealousy because I was TRAVELING THROUGH JAPAN AND EUROPE AND WOOWEE THAT SHIT IS WORTH SHARING!

Today, I did a not so smart thing. I created a new page for the club, not realising we already had a page (even though I myself had liked it many months ago – told you it wasn’t a smart thing).

We have a Closed Group page that makes it hard for new people to find us and get information and we can’t like other pages such as local sponsors so it was decided to work towards closing it down and using a ‘page’ page to solve our issues. Little did the majority of the committee realise we already had it. Being an ex-Librarian, I should have known to do a search first. D’oh.

Queue momentary chaos.

Facebook – love it or loath it – has an incredible reach. At least people in town are talking about our club this afternoon!

I’m a fake


Techno overload

It’s true. I am. I pretend to be a Twitter user but I’m not really.  I know – now you’re all gasping in disbelief and unliking my posts and defollowing me. But before you condemn me, hear my pleas for mercy!

You see, I’ve had this Twitter account for several years. And every 18 months or so, I brush off the cobwebs that remember my password (not that hard, I only have two … oops, shouldn’t have said that) and get back online and try to be a Twit ..Tweeter … whatever it is. And I fail. Miserably. This is attempt number four. Hopefully, this one will stick.

Maybe it’s because I’m *cough* older. Maybe it’s because I discovered blogging and Facebooking first and there’s not enough capacity in my brain to take on Tweeting as well. Are Tweeters Facebookers too? Is it like Chocolate v Strawberry milkshakes? What is it about Twitter that’s so cool? High-profile entertainers seem to love it … in hindsight, perhaps that’s not such a great thing though. They seem to get themselves into an awful lot of trouble with just 144 characters. You’d think people who make their living via communication would be better at it … oh, wait. They have scriptwriters, don’t they? And you never hear of a scriptwriter getting themselves into trouble by saying dumb things in writing in front of millions of people (you can delete it all you want, Justin Bieber, but it will always be there screensaved on people’s phones, you sad has-been at such a young age).

I know that Twitter has street cred. I can see that, just by the reach this silly little blog has gotten in a few posts – far more than my old one did four years ago. I was so pleased the day I had more than four followers and one of them was not my family. It was a strange and exhilarating experience to think that complete strangers liked what poured out of my brain and onto the screen.  It’s like all those likes you get on a Facebook comment that you’ve crafted carefully to sound smart and witty and self-depreciating so that people will hear what you’re saying but noone will ever take offence or think you’re boasting (except for those seven weeks travelling through Japan and Europe – pretty sure people got offended at our boasting then. But screw them, we were on our honeymoon and our lives are generally too dull to post).

I just don’t know how to use Twitter effectively. Anyone got any tips? Why do you use Twitter? How does it fit into your daily life? I’d really like to know.

Failure to launch


Failure and I are not friends


I don’t do it well. Not at all.  And I didn’t truly realise this until the last few years.

You see, I’ve always worked hard and most of the time, I got what I wanted. Or at least, if I didn’t get it, I pretended I didn’t really want it anyway and could write a story in my head of why, in fact, not getting what I wanted was a good thing and therefore not REALLY a failure at all …

Which is kind of what I’m doing right now, having failed to get my RE motorcycle learners licence even though I’ve done 5 lessons so far and have previously ridden a moped for a few years and know how to ride a bike safely.  The most humiliating thing is, I’d pretty much posted on Facebook that after today, I would be a card-carrying bikie chick and now, after everyone’s liked and commented, I have to say “Nuh. False alarm. I missed out by one mark” and all because I’m overly cautious combined with terribly hopeless at judging distance accurately.

Of course, when I put it in perspective it’s not such a big deal. I just do the test again and finish my prac. I know I can do it but now the storytelling is starting in my head …

“$650 to do a course and get a licence that you may not ever use because you don’t even have a motorbike and even if you do shell out money for one, will you ever ride it?”

But the competitive part of me is already saying “Well, shit. Next time you’ll know the answers. You can do this. Bugger the cost and the fact  you may never use it. At least you’ll have proved a point to yourself.”

But hooo boy, I’m pissy today!