Sunday, 1 May 2011

First Blog, eh?

So what exactly is this blogging lark all about?

According to Google definitions, a blog is (noun) 'A Web site on which an individual or group of users record opinions, information, etc. on a regular basis'. The fact that our generation has taken to this very vulgar diary is telling- our lives have been put into the public arena, thanks to the phenomenon of social networking, and we all think others will be interested in our opinions.  That's not necessarily the case, but it's nice to feel important, I suppose. Anonymous blogging is another matter- why publish these musings and not claim them? Surely blogging is a way in which to claim an opinion and own it? To prove that you have something to say that is important, that's necessary?

I'm not trying to claim that I'm the exception to this. I, too, think that my opinions are valid and should be listened too. I intend to treat this like an online column of sorts, things that interest me, and hopefully anyone that stumbles across this. I have no delusions of grandeur and am very aware that I'm probably the only person that will read this. But I quite like that- if you are reading this then that's lovely, if not, I'll be able to look back at the ridiculous notions I 
had as a 21 year old, fresh faced,  inexperienced at life and relatively unjaded. That's quite a nice thing to have.

I'm reading an old diary, from 1961-65, that has entries published daily online (at www.herfiveyeardiary.com), at the moment. I love what it tells you about the time in which it was written. What was important enough to note, like the colour of the author's dress, and what was omitted, like any full names of anything (which is incredibly frustrating!). The detective work that goes along with this is fascinating. Sometimes it's good to know what the ordinary people do with their lives, the extraordinary lead very different lives to those like you and I.

The fact that I'm doing this, and not a diary, probably says a lot about me. I don't know what, and I don't necessarily like that I've jumped on to this band waggon. Is it cathartic, or attention seeking? I'm not sure. What I do know, and like, is the diary from 1964, and if anything, this is an attempt at a modern version of that.

If today's post was a diary entry it would read like this:


Last night I slept at Sam's house. We went to a good-bye party for John, who is having to move to Southend for work, before going back to hers and watching Marley and Me. I cried. Her kids got me up at 7am. Today I have been attempting to do revision but not been making much progress. Ma and Pa have been out all morning. Tonight I'm going to the pub with friends and saying goodbye before moving back to university for my last ever exam period. The sky is really blue today, it's pretty.


xxx

Experience or Firsts?

With introductions out of the way, although I didn't introduce myself, I believe that that will come out gradually, it's time to start using this for the purpose it was designed.

This is my first proper blog post. As I get more experienced and relax into a writing style I'm sure that this will seem to lack colour and wit, but as my first 'proper' blog, it will never lose it's importance. It will always be the one I remember.

Our society has placed a lot of emphasis on firsts. The first time you do something tends to be associated with growing up...first tooth, first steps, first day at school etc. And the older you get, the more important these firsts are. First 'time' dominates the last year of school, your first love takes over your life. But as we get older these firsts can often be looked at, even with rose-tinted glasses, with a cringe. Why is the awkwardness of your 'first' experiences more appreciated than when you've done it a few times and settled into yourself in that role?

Arguably, the way in which we are perceived, particularly before we leave education, is based upon assumptions surrounding the things that you have, and have not, done. Because of this people are pushed into taking a certain path in life, either conforming or actively resisting, with very few free-spirits just doing as they please. 

Yes, firsts are important, but surely the way in which you react to these firsts is more notable, more telling of who you are?

Are firsts better than lasts? Which one is more memorable? Or is it all the times in between that matter, because they make you who you are, growing from your first, and ending with your last?

xx