Dear Facebook,
I’ve got something to tell you, I’m leaving you. It’s not you, it’s me. I’m just too busy right now. We want different things. I don’t think I can give you the commitment you’re looking for. OK, that’s enough clichés, the bottom line is that it’s over.
We’ve been together since 2007, when someone first told me there was this new site where I could ‘network’ with my friends, write on their walls, and occasionally look at their photographs of another drunken night. Ho ho ho, it was all so simple, so new, so different. I was hooked. But then it got too serious facebook, you wanted to know everything about me, you wanted to share my information with every free and loose application on the net, you made it so difficult to change my settings, you kept suggesting ‘friends’ to me I’d never even heard of, you changed my privacy settings without my permission, I could go on. You got jealous when I started flirting with other, newer, more exciting social networking sites. You told random people what I was doing all the time, where’s the mystery gone! You always want me to join groups, such as ‘Can this Hedgehog get more fans than JLS’, do I really give a shit! And facebook, you always want to know what I’m up to and the events I’m planning, why can’t you let me have my own space!
Basically, I’m a rat leaving a sinking ship. Facebook, I think you’re the new Friends Reunited, the new Napster, the new Hotmail, the new Altavista. You’re old news, and I’m getting out while the goings good. You have got too big headed and too popular for your own good, you’ve lost sight of whats important.
In all seriousness, the final straw has been whenever I hear the tragic news of a young person passing away, newspapers show scant regard for their privacy and go on their Facebook accounts, and then reprint the comments in the Morning Rag. I think this crass and insensitive journalism is both lazy and an abuse of the right of a family to grieve properly in privacy. For all the self-righteous hypocrites who cry about their privacy being violated, this ability by newspapers to easily and readily abuse this privacy is the real reason I’m leaving.
So Facebook, we’ve had some good times and some bad times, but its over. I’ll see you around. If you see any of my friends, let them know that they can keep in touch, see below for details. However, Facebook, I’d prefer not to hear from you again.
Yours,
Rob
twitter - http://twitter.com/robb_n_roll
LinkedIn – search ‘Rob Melling’
Email – robmelling@gmail.com
Post – Ask
Mobile – 07507823140
My blog - Ask
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Thursday, April 8, 2010
a traumatic time
Here is my second post, some time after the first. This is due to the fact that there have been some traumatic occurances since the first.
Shortly after I wrote the first blog, Molly, the source of my inspiration (& lost shoes) sadly died. I say died, more appropriate would be bitten by a poisonous Brown snake then left to fester in 40 degree heat until I found her. Burying that dog was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, literally, have you ever tried digging a hole in Australia, its drier than a mouthful of cream crackers! 2 hours and 5 beers later I was finally able to lay her to rest. Her grave, should you ever wish to visit and pay your respects, is a little wood facing east so she can watch the sun rise every morning. I loved that little dog and when I get my own dog I will name her Molly 2, in Molly's honour.
I think this event was the final straw for me with living in Australia. Well, that and the student loans company were threatening legal action if I didn't return to start paying my debts. I made the incredibly difficult decision to give it all up and head home, back to Blighty, to what the Maori's call Te Gunhtba Aoernaona - Land of the Traffic cone hotline. It meant saying goodbye to ALOT, my pals, my job, travelling, sunshine, and not facing up to the real world! However, having said this there are a lot of draws to the UK, namely some culture & good music. Australia is stuck in 1987, you can't move for the mullets. Also, a 4-year gap year is starting to stretch it a little bit!
So here I am, back in this wet and windy Isle, dodging chavs and tutting whilst stood in queues. I cam back just before Xmas, and was luckily here to experience the 'Big freeze', where society in the UK crumbled in the face of heavy snow and frozen pensioners, witnessing people killing each and feasting on the brains. Seriously, the English do make a natural disaster out of the least bit of unseasonable weather!
My first priority on my return was to consume a beer from a pint glass. In Australia, beer is only available in tiny half pint glasses called 'pots'. That's what the missus should have, I hear you shout. Australians will give you some half-baked story about it keeping the beer colder in a hot climate, but I like to think they just can't hanlde beer in pint format, ipso facto are not real men! I'll leave my Aussie bashing there for now.
Second priority on my return was some decent food. When you travel you come to the realisation that the English cuisine, specifically the Northern English cuisine, is the most fantastically diverse and delicious you can find. The Yanks just eat burgers and fries, the Canadians put maple syrup on everything, Kiwi's eat lamb chops, and Aussies eat anything as long as its BBQ'd or covered in breadcrumbs. However we have delicious pies, barmcakes, chorley cakes, Tunnocks caramel wafer bars (and indeed anything made by cadbury), sausages, black puddings, roasts, Hotpots, fish and chips, curries, and a million and one other treats. The food has been fantastic since I've been home, and the choice is fantastic. Don't ever let it be said by sneering continentals that our food is inferior, as I can assure you it is superior!
So despite the traumatic times and the big move, I am now home, loving it, and consuming any pie that comes within a 6 foot radius of my mouth! All I need to do now is steal a dog as a replacement for Molly.
Shortly after I wrote the first blog, Molly, the source of my inspiration (& lost shoes) sadly died. I say died, more appropriate would be bitten by a poisonous Brown snake then left to fester in 40 degree heat until I found her. Burying that dog was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, literally, have you ever tried digging a hole in Australia, its drier than a mouthful of cream crackers! 2 hours and 5 beers later I was finally able to lay her to rest. Her grave, should you ever wish to visit and pay your respects, is a little wood facing east so she can watch the sun rise every morning. I loved that little dog and when I get my own dog I will name her Molly 2, in Molly's honour.
I think this event was the final straw for me with living in Australia. Well, that and the student loans company were threatening legal action if I didn't return to start paying my debts. I made the incredibly difficult decision to give it all up and head home, back to Blighty, to what the Maori's call Te Gunhtba Aoernaona - Land of the Traffic cone hotline. It meant saying goodbye to ALOT, my pals, my job, travelling, sunshine, and not facing up to the real world! However, having said this there are a lot of draws to the UK, namely some culture & good music. Australia is stuck in 1987, you can't move for the mullets. Also, a 4-year gap year is starting to stretch it a little bit!
So here I am, back in this wet and windy Isle, dodging chavs and tutting whilst stood in queues. I cam back just before Xmas, and was luckily here to experience the 'Big freeze', where society in the UK crumbled in the face of heavy snow and frozen pensioners, witnessing people killing each and feasting on the brains. Seriously, the English do make a natural disaster out of the least bit of unseasonable weather!
My first priority on my return was to consume a beer from a pint glass. In Australia, beer is only available in tiny half pint glasses called 'pots'. That's what the missus should have, I hear you shout. Australians will give you some half-baked story about it keeping the beer colder in a hot climate, but I like to think they just can't hanlde beer in pint format, ipso facto are not real men! I'll leave my Aussie bashing there for now.
Second priority on my return was some decent food. When you travel you come to the realisation that the English cuisine, specifically the Northern English cuisine, is the most fantastically diverse and delicious you can find. The Yanks just eat burgers and fries, the Canadians put maple syrup on everything, Kiwi's eat lamb chops, and Aussies eat anything as long as its BBQ'd or covered in breadcrumbs. However we have delicious pies, barmcakes, chorley cakes, Tunnocks caramel wafer bars (and indeed anything made by cadbury), sausages, black puddings, roasts, Hotpots, fish and chips, curries, and a million and one other treats. The food has been fantastic since I've been home, and the choice is fantastic. Don't ever let it be said by sneering continentals that our food is inferior, as I can assure you it is superior!
So despite the traumatic times and the big move, I am now home, loving it, and consuming any pie that comes within a 6 foot radius of my mouth! All I need to do now is steal a dog as a replacement for Molly.
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