WAYT: I’m onto your mind games, social media!

I’ve been gone from this site for so long, it’s almost laughable that I’m writing now.  As usual, the naysayer Devil on my shoulder is cackling about it because he thinks no one has missed me.  It’s hard not to believe that he’s right, but I feel fairly certain that there are enough people who used to read this blog that surely they’ll be glad I’m back. 

And that is my problem these days.  Between Facebook, Twitter and the hits and comments on my blog pages, I seem to think that everyone is my friend.  Maybe I spend too much time conversing with the Devil on my shoulder exclusively, or maybe people are really my friends. 

I’ll never know, because Facebook, Twitter and comments are so faceless and without value, that in my heart of hearts, I know it’s all superficial.  It’s not real friendship.  (But is it????)

Case in point: I feel like I am best friends forever with Jack Morrissey and Sylvain Reynard.  Jack Morrissey is Bill Condon’s main squeeze.  Yes, you read that right – Bill Condon, as in, major Hollywood film director.  Sylvain Reynard is the millionaire author of these books that I totally love (read about it here and here).  I’ve exchanged tweets and/or Facebook messages and comments with these two totally awesome, mega-rich and greatly beloved people and if anyone asked me, I’d tell everyone all about those tiny few words we’ve shared. 

Because social media wants me to think they’re my best friends.  Social media wants me to believe that these interactions make me someone special to these people who are so much larger in life than little old me. 

But really, are SR and Jack telling their friends, “Oh my gosh, this chick Kayla from Illinois tweeted me and I totally wrote her back and now we’re best friends because I love her Facebook profile picture!”?  The answer is no.  I need to get some perspective.  (But really, if you’re my Facebook friend, I don’t know how you can’t LOVE my profile picture.)

Except the sad thing is that I’m totally addicted to social media for that exact reason: I think they’re my friends and I want to keep that connection alive. 

Today, I curse myself and whatever I must be thinking, setting myself up for a sad, empty life with no tweets and no notification on my Facebook homepage from these celebrities and important people.  I also curse myself for hoping that they’ll read this and remember that one time we were BFF because Facebook and Twitter brought us together for one magical moment, and I want us to hold hands and sit around the warm campfire of our shared interests once more. 

“It’s all so laughable,” the Devil reminds me, so that I never forget.  Curse him to Hell!

WAYT: I've got the fever

I have a confession to make: I’m not always right.  (What am I thinking, admitting to being wrong?  My husband will undoubtedly print this out, frame it and wave it in my face at every available opportunity!)

Usually when I’m wrong, I like to be very hard-headed and take way too long to admit it.  So once and for all, I will just come out and say it.  I like Justin Bieber’s music. 

I have fought him off for years.  I find Bieber, as a person, to be absolutely obnoxious.  I do not believe that anyone his age should be getting up to some of his antics.  For example, should a 17 year old be on vacation in Hawaii with his then-19 year old girlfriend and be photographed with his tongue down her  throat?  Should a 17 year old be driving a car likened to the Batmobile?  Should a 17 year old be commenting about Canadian healthcare policies in entertainment news magazines?

And come on with that hair.  That used to be my biggest annoyance.  Thank the Lord he finally cut it. 

But dang if he doesn’t make catchy music!  And you know how I love music. 

I’ve been wrong about pop culture phenomena before.  I mercilessly mocked my sister for liking the movie Twilight.  And now look at me – my first website visit every day, after my email, is www.twifans.com.  I spent several hours of my life trying to figure out a way to trick my husband into giving our son a Twilight-related name.  Last November, I went to a Twilight movie marathon and watched nothing but Twilight movies for ten hours straight. 

Now, I just got back from my local Target store where I purchased an iTunes gift card so that I can buy the new Justin Bieber CD.  (For $14.99, this CD better validate my complete 180 on Bieber.)

I thought you could never make a Twi-Hard out of me.  I also swore you could never make a Belieber out of me.  What is the world coming to?  I’m supposed to be a grown woman!  I’m supposed to be growing more cultured with age!  Maybe I should start listening to 60’s music or something…

I blame it all on The New Kids on the Block.  If they hadn’t been the thing when I was in first grade, where would I be now? 

But I can’t deny it anymore.  Justin Bieber’s got the right stuff (see what I did there, NKOTB fans?) that makes me turn up the volume and sing along. 

What do you think of Justin Bieber?