I am not the most internet savvy person in the world. My website is functional and basic, and since the host changed I have not been able to figure out how to upload changes (yes, must get onto that).
I am on Facebook, but am not even quite sure what Twitter is. I'm on a few email lists, but mainly as a lurker.
The main problem is time. As it stands I need to make a choice between spending the few precious hours either writing or reading. More often than not its the writing that wins - it has to. And that's balancing a laptop on the bus or squeezing in a few lunchtime hours at the cafe. Weekends are better, but still a tough compromise with family time and activities. I'm not alone here.
But for the few minutes I do manage to log onto Facebook, I find myself baffled by the loquacious multitude. I learn quickly about people's travels, about how they can't wait to see that band, about the coffee they had that morning, how they didn't get enough sleep. Meanwhile I sit staring at the little box for my comment wondering what to write. More often than not I don't end up writing anything. For a start I can't possibly think that anyone is going to be interested in the mundane trivia of my life. Then - when I do have something significant going on - I feel as though I can't share this with a bunch of cyberites, at least not without the expectation of some sort of meaningful response. I need a find a balance with that.
OK. This is just a naked plea for help. What the Hell are you supposed to write on Facebook?
And for those that have grappled with Twitter - is this worth the look?
In the mean time, here is something for those who enjoy Multicultural (and Catholic) humour. This one tickled my fancy . . .
Each Friday night after work, Santa Singh would fire up his outdoor grill and cook a tandoori chicken and some meat kebabs. But, all of his neighbors were strict Catholics...and since it was Lent, they were forbidden from eating chicken and meat on a Friday.
I am on Facebook, but am not even quite sure what Twitter is. I'm on a few email lists, but mainly as a lurker.
The main problem is time. As it stands I need to make a choice between spending the few precious hours either writing or reading. More often than not its the writing that wins - it has to. And that's balancing a laptop on the bus or squeezing in a few lunchtime hours at the cafe. Weekends are better, but still a tough compromise with family time and activities. I'm not alone here.
But for the few minutes I do manage to log onto Facebook, I find myself baffled by the loquacious multitude. I learn quickly about people's travels, about how they can't wait to see that band, about the coffee they had that morning, how they didn't get enough sleep. Meanwhile I sit staring at the little box for my comment wondering what to write. More often than not I don't end up writing anything. For a start I can't possibly think that anyone is going to be interested in the mundane trivia of my life. Then - when I do have something significant going on - I feel as though I can't share this with a bunch of cyberites, at least not without the expectation of some sort of meaningful response. I need a find a balance with that.
OK. This is just a naked plea for help. What the Hell are you supposed to write on Facebook?
And for those that have grappled with Twitter - is this worth the look?
In the mean time, here is something for those who enjoy Multicultural (and Catholic) humour. This one tickled my fancy . . .
Each Friday night after work, Santa Singh would fire up his outdoor grill and cook a tandoori chicken and some meat kebabs. But, all of his neighbors were strict Catholics...and since it was Lent, they were forbidden from eating chicken and meat on a Friday.
The delicious aroma from the grilled meats was causing such a problem for the Catholic faithful that they finally talked to their Priest.
The Priest came to visit Santa, and suggested that he become a Catholic. After several classes and much study, Santa attended Mass... and as the priest sprinkled holy water over him, he said, “You were born a Sikh, and raised a Sikh, but now, you are a Catholic."
Santa’s neighbors were greatly relieved, until Friday night arrived.
The wonderful aroma of tandoori chicken and meat kebabs filled the neighborhood. The Priest was called immediately by the neighbors and, as he rushed into Santa's backyard, clutching a rosary and prepared to scold him, he stopped and watched in amazement.
There stood Santa, holding a small bottle of holy water which he carefully sprinkled over the grilling meats and chanted: "Oye, you waz born a chicken, and you waz born a lamb, you waz raised a chicken, and you waz raised a lamb but now yara, you are a potato and tomato"!
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