The thing about the internet, is that it's a crazy thing. People can use it for good or evil, depending on the knowledge that they have. It's a battle that I'm sure lots of people struggle with on a daily basis.
I use the internet for personal gain. It's neither good or evil, but I suppose personal gain can be construde as 'evil'. I email people, do this here blog from time to time, and when I'm not doing any of that, chances are you can find me on facebook. Actually, I'm 99% certain you'd be able to find me there. I am what you would call a "facebook stalker" or a "facebook whore". I spend way too much time cruising that horrible invention, just going through people's photographs, reading their walls, looking at all of their friends, and going round and round in this big, giant facebook circle.
Of course, facebook could be a good thing. You can find friends from a long time ago that you haven't spoken to in ages, and facebook is the tool to use in order to reunite you both. Or perhaps you have a lost love that you want to find and spark up the 'ole flame again. It's just one giant reunion, and people go nuts on there. People like myself. Who probably don't have much else to do except constantly cruise the internet and take a peek into people's lives and see what's going on, based purely on what people have said on their wall, or by going through all of their pictures to see where they've been, who they've been hanging out with, what they've been getting up to.
I probably abuse facebook for it's capabilities. That's a blatant lie. I do abuse facebook for it's capabilities. I look at people's profiles when I shouldn't, and heaven forbid something comes out that can track who's profiles you visit and how many times, I'd be screwed. It would expose me as a facebook freak that needs to have their account deleted and completely banned from the facebook world. I'd probably have to check myself into a rehab center, because living without facebook would be too much for me to handle. I'd crack and have some kind of meltdown, I'm sure.
The thing is, I can't help it. It has now gotten to a point where it's a compulsion. I do it completely out of habit now, and if I don't, I feel all off balanced and crazy.
I know, I should already be in some kind of 12-step program, simply because of the above sentence.
Mostly it's just my curiousity. I just want to know because I'm nosy and can't help it. And for some reason, it gives me a small sense of power, that I know things about people, that maybe I wouldn't otherwise know because of their profile. I'm a sick weirdo that way.
Keeping all of that in mind, I now will tell you a story about an almost encounter that could have happened completely by chance, but didn't because of the small amount of knowledge that I received from facebook. Did you follow me on all of that?
Even though Ash and I broke up over a year ago, occasionally (read: at least once a day) I may happen to find myself on his facebook profile. Believe me, I didn't think he would even have one since he used to tell me how much he despised MySpace with all of it's bright, neon colors, and all of the teenie boppers that inhabited it's space. I figured it would be a shot in the dark that he would be on facebook, so when I typed his name in the search bar, it was mostly just for shits and giggles, and just to put my curious brain to rest.
It was really surprising when he popped up and there was his picture next to his name. And I could view his profile because we were both in the same network. Should I click? How could I not click now that I knew he actually had one? I definitely had to click.
So I did, and I had a bit of a browse. I poked around in his pictures, had a gander at his friend list and read what people had written on his wall. Hell, I went through it all. His facebook profile was equivilant to his empty apartment, and I was there left alone to pilfer through it without him knowing. I learned where he worked and who some of his co-workers were. Occasionally I would see that he was online at the same time I was online though, and would have a minor heart attack. God, could he see me online too? Did he know that I was there being a mentalist ex-girlfriend freak? I shouldn't be looking at his things. I gave that priviledge up a long time ago, and I should just stop all together.
I decided to go ahead and block him, for no other reason then just to keep myself from typing his name in the search box and clicking on his profile. I had to do something, and that was all I could come up with at the time.
And it worked for a couple of months.
Until I got curious again and took his name off of my blocked list, and then caught myself up on what I had missed when I wasn't checking.
Such a mentalist....really....
Fast forward a little to when Helen invited me to a promotion that Topshop was doing. They started this thing where you can make an appointment with a personal shopper and have about an hour or so in your own personal room with them picking clothes out for you to try on. It was going to be an evening with lots of girls in the shop getting clothes for 20% off, waiters with tiny finger foods on silver trays walking around feeding you, and you got a goodie bag at the end. It sounded pretty good to me, so I decided I would go with her.
Helen: "Yeah, it's at the Topshop in South Kent. We should get there round seven or so."
Me: "South Kent?"
Helen: "South Kensington.
I knew South Kensington. I knew not to go round there. I knew that's where Ash worked and it was just one of my No Go Zones for Central. Not that I ever anticipated it happening, but you never know, we could run into each other. It could be weird. Well, it would be weird. And I didn't want that. I'd just keep to my area south of the river, and I'd be fine.
Helen: "Oh yeah, and I'll have to take you to this new music store that I found. They've got really good deals on stuff."
Me: "A music store? It's not Virgin is it?"
Helen: "Nah, it's called something else, I can't remember."
Well, so long as it wasn't Virgin, I would be fine. With my facebook knowledge, I knew that's where he worked, and I would just avoid that spot all together. I'd be fine. It'd all be fine. I had nothing to worry about.
So the time came for us to head to South Kent and get our shop on. We got there a bit early, so Helen said we could pop into the music store that she had found, since it was only a couple doors down from Topshop.
We started to walk in and I immediately paused in the doorway. I saw a Virgin sign in the back of the shop, and something felt off. It didn't feel right. I quickly scanned the faces of the employees and didn't recognize any of them, but still didn't go inside.
Me: "Dude, are you sure this isn't a Virgin store?"
Helen: "Yeah, don't worry. Come on in, it's fine."
I took a few hesitant steps inside and kept my eyes peeled. Even though the name outside of the shop said Zavvi, I wasn't entirely convinced. What the hell was that anyway? I had never heard of Zavvi before, and why was there a Virgin sign in the back of the shop?
I shook it off and decided to browse through some of the music. This wasn't where he worked, I didn't recognize the people from his photos, and I was just being super paranoid. I should just chill out and stop worrying so much.
The rest of the night was really good, I continued on with life as usual and didn't give it a second thought.
Until I was in my usual facebook whore mode and was reading what some girl had posted on his wall. She asked him how "Zavvi life" was treating him. Zavvi? Why did I know that? And why was she asking him about it?
I thought about it, and remembered the music store that Helen had taken me to. It had a funny name...did it start with a Z? I couldn't remember. When I asked her she said she couldn't remember the name either, so I did what anyone in my position would do, and googled it.
What I learned is that Virgin was changing over to Zavvi. Virgin is Zavvi, or Zavvi is Virgin. Whatever the case, they're the same thing.
And I was there.
Since then, I've told myself that I'm never going back to South Kensington again for whatever reason. It's a dangerous area for me, and I shouldn't risk any kind of encounter. I keep telling myself that I was the one who broke things off, and completely cut myself of all ties. It would just be easier if I didn't go there.
But I did like the Topshop. And I did want to try out the personal shopper thing that Helen did, since it is free with no obligation to buy (even though I'd more than likely buy way too much). And South Kensington is just really nice in general.
It's a big place. We're only two people. I'm sure the chances of us actually bumping into each other are pretty slim.
It doesn't stop the What If senarios playing in my head though. It doesn't matter if I picked an obscure time and walked around the long way...sometimes you just never know what may happen.
And this entire post proves just how big of a nutcase I am. I'll be waiting for the guys in the white jackets to come and carry me away to the safe room with padded walls.