Keeping In Touch With Old Friends

I just remembered I'm supposed to send in the update for my annual nursing class newsletter by this Saturday. We cleverly (or not so) named it the NUSletter (for Nursing Undergrad Society).

If I remember correctly – and I may be completely wrong -- the idea was borne out of one of our last class get-togethers when we were waxing nostalgic and wondering if we'd ever see each other again. We decided a yearly newsletter would be a terrific idea -- we could all send brief letters telling our classmates what we'd been up to for the year. We chose October 31 (Halloween) as the yearly submission date, figuring it was an easy date to remember. One of our most dedicated and organized classmates (Sue) volunteered to be the recipient and compiler. We got her address, dutifully gave her our addresses and promised to update her with address changes. So it began.

Back in the early seventies, we sent typewritten (preferably) letters to Sue. She then took all the letters and re-typed them into one document, made copies and mailed them out to everyone. The logisitics were worked out as we went along - self-addressed envelopes, donations for postage and stationery. Thinking back on it, it was an enormous amount of work and I think Sue was the only one who could have pulled it off.

It wasn't until years later, when most people had computers and email accounts, that the procedure was streamlined (a bit). With the advent of email, those of us with computers sent Sue our yearly news in text or Word documents. She then cut and pasted most of the newsletter from whatever people sent her. It made for interesting reading because almost everyone used different fonts, type-sizes and formatting.

Over the years, people moved, had children, changed jobs, moved again. We lost track of a few from the group – some quite early on. Some members drifted in and out, submitting something one year, then not the next. I'm guilty of the latter. Some years, I'd send a letter, others I didn't. There didn't seem enough of interest to write about. At least nothing I thought to be read-worthy. How many times can you say, D is in grade 4 now (grade 5, grade 6, grade 7, etc.) and listing activities and job changes without it sounding like some of those dreaded Christmas form letters? But maybe it didn't really matter because I enjoyed reading news from others, no matter how much the same from year to year.

The date for submissions gradually drifted later into the year. It's no longer Halloween and I'm not sure why. Yet, through it all, there has been a core group that always submits something and it's been wonderful following the progression of their lives. Some are retired, others contemplating retirement. In the early years, the news was about young children and parenthood, now it's more about new grandchildren.

But back to this year's newsletter. One of our classmates (Bev) thought it might be easier and more efficient to keep in touch via a private FaceBook group. I think it's a great idea. Bev set up a group, sent out emails to everyone on our mailing list and invited everyone to join. Alas, only a handful have joined. Apparently, many aren't familiar with FaceBook and/or have trouble with the interface. There wasn't enough time to get everyone comfortably onto the site before this year's deadline.

So for this year, at least, we're doing it the old way: attach Word documents to emails for Sue to compile and for her to send back as an attachment. And yes, Sue is still doing the same job. It's hard to believe it's been going on for thirty-odd years.

Well, it's time for me to get busy and write my letter. I look forward to receiving everyone else's news.

Home alone

I got nothing today. Nada. Zilch. Moh yeh. No philosophical insights, no words of wisdom. What have I accomplished today? … You got it. – Nothing.

It's rainy, wet and miserable; and I'm home alone. Boo hoo. So, I'll do another Wenda and just let my fingers type whatever comes. Here goes.

It's not that I've done nothing. I just haven't done anything very useful. I've been surfing the web, writing silly flash fiction, playing Spider Solitaire, followed by Hearts, interspersed with trips to the kitchen to make tea; finding and toasting some left over garlic bread (which was delicious, by the way); and wondering what to write in my blog.

Today, I came across a disagreement on one of the forums I frequent. It got pretty heated with swearing, name-calling and sarcasm. At one point, I wanted to jump into the fray, but my better judgement prevailed, and I kept out of it. It's amazing how out of control these online arguments can get and how out and out nasty people get. Maybe I lead a sheltered life, but I seldom run into these types of arguments in real life.

It leads me to wonder what the posters on these forums are like IRL (see, I can pick up online speak, too). Are they as aggressive, assertive, silly, funny, dumb as they appear to be online? (I was going include 'intelligent' on that list, but I think it's hard to fake intelligence for any length of time).

We all make assumptions about people based on what they present to the outside world, and in the case of the interweb, how they write and respond in discussion forums, blogs, and comments. I start wondering if they'd be people I'd really like to meet face to face, whether I'd like them, whether they'd like me. The more I think about it the more I believe there aren't that many I'd want to meet in person. That's not to say I don't like or am not interested in the people I've met online; it's just that I'm not sure meeting them in reality would mesh with my assumptions, if that makes sense. Although, it might make for some interesting experiences.

Those I'd probably want to meet would be those I think are both interesting and who I think represent their true selves online. Not the easiest to judge, I know, but to me, genuineness (is that a word?) means they've shown more than one aspect of themselves - the good, the bad, and sometimes, the ugly.

No one is the same all the time. We're complex creatures. Sometimes we're serious and thoughtful. Sometimes we're silly and goofy. Sometimes we're irritable and angry. It's part of being human. I like to see these different sides of a person, if for no other reason than to feel they are genuine human beings. Not to say I don't know people who always seem serious or always silly, but they seem a bit fake and, honestly, don't make the best of friends. How can you be yourself around a constant clown or someone who takes ever utterance you make as though it's a message from on high? There is time for humour in life and time to be a grown up and take things seriously, both have their place. I guess what I'm saying is that online people, like their real life counterparts are, and should be, complex. Beware, the one-trick ponies.

(So how did I get here?) Oh, right. I've learned to take people I meet online with a grain of salt. It's hard to know the real person behind the screen name and projected persona, but I think (underline 'think') I'm getting better at figuring it out.

Up late and can't sleep

. . . so thought I'd sign on and post a few thoughts.

It's funny how you get attached to people you've never met.

Over the years I've been active online, I've developed some unique relationships with people from across the globe. A few have come and gone, much like face to face relationships. You meet, you exchange niceties, exchange information, maybe spend time together, but you eventually move on in your respective lives. Just another part of life's experiences.

Yet, I wonder about the individuals that I made a connection with on the 'net, no matter how brief. I wonder about Susan in New York who gave me a great recipe for Zuppe de Pesce that I still use and the person who introduced me to the writing of George Gissing. I wonder what happened to the guy who helped me through debugging my first internet virus. I wonder about the early members of TBF like Holger and Tobytook and Dawn. Do they still remember me as I remember them? I guess we were just ships passing in the night -- to see each other from a distance, perhaps exchange messages, but ultimately continue on our respective journeys, never to be seen or heard from again.

Sad, in a way, but still part of my totality, so I guess it's okay.