THE SEEN

The year I went from the Scene to the Seen, "party" became a four-letter word.

The Diagnosis

I'm naturally shy so I combat what I call misdiagnosed conceitedness. It's not possible to be remotely attractive and shy. People mistake my Shy for being stuck-up unless I am the life of the party. And this leads people to believe I'm high maintenance. It's no-win.

California knows how to party. In the city of Compton, we keep it rockin'. Shake it Cali.

The Scene: In a former life, 'good times' involved dim lighting, loud music, a smorgasbord open 'bar' of soda and snacks and chilling and grooving with 100 other people you never met before to get a few new numbers. Peacocking is mandatory. SoCal influence hits up Utah hot.

The year I discovered making an appearance was a lot more fun than throwing the party I lost Social Statii. The older I get the less I like the Scene. My idea of a party these days involves a grill, sunscreen, Sangria, and 10 of my closest. That's my scene. No dancing, no partying, no mystery people, no keystone friends to invite so you can pimp your party to the right crowd.

The Symptoms

I hate mingling ever since my stint as an event planner. It was the never-ending dinner cruise in San Diego, dancing on the bar to YMCA with the servers at the Hard Rock in Phoenix, or those times in Chicago, Miami, or Seattle. All that forced "fun" mingling made me hate it. 

The Cure

I don't often do parties unless they include descriptors: Beach Party, Movie Night, World Cup, Suzanne Somers Summer Celebration. The more character, the more I am attracted. (That's a universal statement for me- houses, men, cars, friends, you name it.)

If I wanted to dance and get hit on repeatedly I'd go dancing. If I want to chill with 100 people I don't know, I'll go to a concert. If I want numbers, I'll flirt. If I want loud music and dim lights, I'll go to a movie. That's my scene.

I'm the Seen; seen mostly by the food table for an hour before I hit up the midnight showing.

I wonder if it isn't the same for all of us. Adulthood is a glacier encroaching quietly on youth. When it arrives, the stamp of childhood suddenly freezes, capturing us for good in the image of our last act, the pose we struck when the ice of age set in. -The Rule of Four 

What is language?

Wat up yo!  Peep dis...Ebonics is on point and tru to da game! 

Language reflects culture. Check da thang! if’in language show culture, Ebonics iz English. We be same peeps, diff'nt wordz. Ebonics chills wit Propers, da thang puts one wicked idea into one wicked word, an ‘isolating language' --jus' da same. Cultural emphasis iz pimp-tight! Ebonics is all originating ebony (black) an’ showin' da sweetness o’ da language o’ black peeps 'n all diz cultural sickness. No way diz be crizzaz whack words and all Uncle Tom, it represezentin’ homiez an dat off da hook. Nobody sauced by Ebonics.

Ebonics iz afrocentric. Da thang wackin' a sense o’ identity hardcore. Da thang iz ya’ll be an’ pimp-tightness when ya’ll use da thang. There iz no confusing hoo ya’ll iz, how ya’ll waz raised, an’ where ya’ll iz from. Pride in ya’lls heritage an’ pride in ya’ll's homies. Check dis yo! Freedom. Freedom from crizzaz wordz.  Ya'll individe yourselves.

Powerful iz wordz, n' smattered, in '96, Oakland School Board prided wordz 'stead o’ 'Propers. American Standard English waz all autopushed on da shortiez. Oakland School Board hit it up and gave a massive autoburial to da haters.

Ebonics iz no rec'd as wordz by ya'll. Bernie Mac says—ya’ll’s got two languages one ta pass ya’lls job interviews an’ one ta chat up ya’lls peeps an' shorties. Ebonics don’t’ be trippin’!! Iz dissed cuz it a’int all d-lo. Peeps iz less smart fo’ using da language an’ no way proper English?! Whatev! Ebonics be wordin' it’s own- wa’tch Propers haz no sickness fo’. Check it: pronasty. “She pronasty.”  Ya’ll’s ponderin’, “Who you callin’ pigeon chicken head, yo?.” Translate, pronasty short fo’ professional nasty or high grade, quality. Not nasty. She a shortie with a capital :S, son! Serious steeze.

Pop C idolizin' Ebonics ta shape stuff (slogans an’ sayings.) Hizzle dis-- Merriam Webster Dictionary peeps goed through ‘Zines find'n words dat iz sicking ta popular an’get 'em more s'pose'd M-stream. Da peeps get all crunked on pimp words. Language reflects culture. Ballin'!

The REAL Facebook Experiment

I’m sure there have been plenty of “academic” studies about the effects of Facebook on society. Here’s my take. I can guarantee you it’ll be a lot more fun to read.

Facebook, for all the great things it is, has completely changed my life. I’m sure I’m not the only one out there who can say this. I got addicted. I started wondering why. I think I accrued six friends at the height of my Golden Age of  Myspace usage. I now perform routine “cleanings” of my friend list if it tops 200. Personal preference.

Facebook is all about personal preference. Ironically, as personal as it gets sometimes. Does no one else find it odd that some people post all the intimate details of their life on Facebook and yet in real life, it would be completely awkward and out of place to share? It’s amazing how a social networking site has made us think it’s a great idea to be personal with a bunch of people we mostly never talk to and who would likely never know that much about us even if we did. I prefer using the privacy settings feature to take care of this. I confess- I am terribly lazy and hardly ever do. So, friends of my Facebook page, you know all about me in ways you may not care to know.

Johnny says: “I am posting something ultra vague that no one will ever get except you, Stacy. xoxo.” Come on!!! Seriously?!? Does any else feel the need to pull the plug on some status posters? I did. That was until I got curious about the language of Facebook status postings. What do they say about a person? Well, for starters, a lot. Once again, guilty as charged. I’ve posted the 5 jillion status updates in one day, the ridiculously stupid, the profound, the funny, and the angry posts. Do I mean to tell the world? No. I can’t stop myself. I just want to express myself to the void. However, it hardly ever is just a void. Somebody’s reading. Most the time, you’ll never know who. I get the occasional reminder when I hear friends-of-years tell me, “How is such and such going? I love being able to keep up with what you are doing on Facebook, it looks like you are having so much fun!” My immediate reaction is inevitably shock. I figured silence meant no one was listening. So, as the unseen reader, I peruse posts doing a little anthropological survey of status and wall postings. My findings will have to wait for another blog posting.(How's the for a hook?) In the meantime, you should try it.

For the single’s out there: Raise your hand if you’ve ever A. obsessively “stalked” your hopeful-to-be latest-and-greatest on everything facebooked.  B. looked at your chat list and gone over in your head the rules to chatting aforementioned love interest. Do you wait to see if they chat first? Do you chat first? What does it mean if they don’t chat first and go offline? Is that the black spot of Facebooking???? Have I just been rejected?!? What just happened?? If you answered A and B, you’re pretty normal. (p.s. as a tangent, spell checker does not recognize Facebook. I just added to my dictionary since the red squiggly was starting to take over the page.) Facebook has created an interesting social interaction dating dilemma that doesn’t exist in the person-to-person world. Can you imagine meeting an interest in real life and attempting the same thing? Solution: That’s why the friend lists were created; so you can “block” any ‘awkwards’. Thank you Facebook for thinking of that. 

For everyone else: How did you learn the rules of chat/messages/posting/status updates/responding/pokes? It took me awhile to figure out the poke rule. In fact, my last boyfriend used the Facebook poke as a status of our relationship. We didn’t even communicate via Facebook while we dated, only prior to dating to establish his interest. I knew the moment two days went by without a poke, the relationship was over. True story. How did I know? The Rules of Facebook I intuitively picked up on told me so. I was right. Facebook is instant. So is texting. Now that most of us are intravenously fed Facebook through our cell, there is no downtime. Time will tell you everything you need to know. Facebook has changed the way we communicate with each other, even the very language we use. Sometimes even our behavior. I'm a LOT more impatient now...

Ever since logging on, my interpersonal relationships have gone way down hill. It’s the best way to keep in touch with everyone you never see. Even people you never saw. It’s a great way to network, yes, but how useful is it to have all your friends, coworkers, bosses, religious leaders, and people you hardly know conveniently packaged into the same space? Moreover, since finding the friends I never thought I’d find, I became less excited about “I wonder how they are doing” and daydreaming about what ends of the earth I would go to track them down to find out. That rare sparkly coin suddenly became less valuable just because, well, there they are. You can just pull up their page any time. You always know what they are up to. Just by befriending each other that counts as keeping in touch. Right? Right???

My Facebook page is an outward expression of my inward self. False. I try but it always comes up a little short, I like to keep it a little artsy. Not that I am artsy, but you know how it is. I am creating a page of my life like you would a collage of pretty things and it’s not quite there yet. Maybe a few more pictures in NYC, Thailand, my fashion shoot, and that brand new Camaro I bought would do the trick…. I try to keep it real. Facebooking has become almost a hierarchal way of establishing status—the number of friends you have, the type and look of the friends you have, the postings you have on your wall, the status updates, your gps locations, definitely your pictures and pictures you allow yourself to be tagged in, activities you "maybe" are attending (is there any other option for responding!? Of course not!), and your privacy settings for outsiders. Don’t forget the all important profile picture. That one is key.

All in all, Facespace is quickly becoming a BIG social experiment for all us behavioral science nerds out there. If you find any of this interesting, check it out! But, you don’t have to take my word for it…


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zUe3sbtqI2Q