Little Miss Perfect...

The tinsel is long gone, as are the glitter-ridden (and now alcohol stained) party dresses. With Christmas now a distant memory, so are many of our post-party resolutions. For most of us, the quest to lose our so called Xmas belly has been long-forgotten, turning ‘holiday weight’ into, well, just weight. That unsightly bulge can no longer be explained away as the temporary result of festive indulgence and has instead taken its place (mostly spilling out the top of your jeans) as a permanent spare tyre; that exercise bike (bought in the January sales in a fit of mince-pie induced shame) has become a graveyard for all of those clothes you are now unable to fit into.

However, there are those women for whom exercise/detoxxing/eating organic is not a fad, but a way of life. Let me introduce you to… The Little Miss Perfects. An army of alien robots sent here from the outer realms of space to make us mere (fat and lazy) mortals feel inadequate; or, so I like to believe. Harmless though they are (other than to our ego's obviously) we spend our time secretly wishing exercise-resistant cellulite and premature grey-hair upon them. That’s just how we’re wired. It is of course, probably (O.K., O.K… definitely) the result of jealously. We secretly aspire to join their elite ranks, and our wish to become them followed by our ultimate failure causes resentment. Now - this is when I am supposed to tell you that our bitterness towards them, unfounded as it is, is morally wrong. However… It feels bloody good doesn’t it? The secret joy we feel when they have gained a pound or are having a sh*t hair day feels absolutely fabulous and we all know it. This reaction may not be the classiest but may be excused as a coping mechanism, a form of self presevation- and who would deny us that? And anyway, far be it from me to deny another person success. The real issue I have with this race of super-beings is not their ability to thrive at everything they do, but the smugness they do it with. Good on you if you managed to get out of bed at 7am to go for a run! But as proof that you are indeed a human being, and not an alien robot, I want to hear that waking up at such an ungodly hour left you feeling horrendous, not fresh and that exercising at such a time was torture, not invigorating.

That said, I must point out that I am in fact a hypocrite. Whilst I still regularly enjoy a glass of wine too many, fail to prepare for my seminars on time (or at all) and can often be seen sporting the panda-eye look, I have recently attempted to change my exercise habits. This wasn’t a challenge as such: my previous exercise regime included reaching for the last slice of garlic bread and not much else. I have added to this not-so healthy activity Pilates, ab-tone classes, circuits and spinning (the latter I must admit has fallen by the way-side, due to the fact that it is quite simply torture on a bike). I can see my former self now, shaking her head in revulsion at this sudden burst of pro-activeness, especially as (and much to my own disgust, I assure you) I have become a right smug little madam about it. “Oh sorry, I cant come out tonight I have a Pilates class in the morning, don’t you know?” … “Oh yes, wonderful way to start the day!”. Even as I write this the urge to punch myself is over-whelming. Normally I would be the person delivering a suitably evil stare over my heavily glazed doughnut as these words were uttered, not be the person delivering them. But I can’t seem to help myself, the urge to gloat just a little bit is too irresistible. As I lose one vice, I gain another (more irritating) one. What can I say? If you can’t beat them, join them.

But dont write me off just yet. Whilst I have taken a small and tentative step to becoming one of them I am still flawed in many other weird and wonderful ways: my nail varnish is still almost always chipped; I am still constantly fighting an uphill battle to keep my room crockery and clothes-mountain free; I am the queen of procrastination (what do you think I’m doing right now?); and, even if I do wash my clothes I forget about them, leaving them to rot in the machine until I am back to square one.

And so, I will not, in the foreseeable future (or realistically ever) become a Little Miss Perfect. So whilst I must beg for forgiveness for my occasionly smug ways (and lets face it this probably won’t last forever and so perhaps I deserve my moment of glory) I can assure you I am more than lacking in other areas. While a bit of me shall always aspire to be a Little Miss Perfect what we should remember is that whilst the life of these women may appear enviable, all work and no play makes Little Miss Perfect a very dull girl. So while she has the toned body to kill for, the perfectly manicured nails and probably always knows where her keys are, we “under-achievers” have a life-time of unpredictable, messy but wonderful memories (and possibly a hefty hangover); to me, those are the most enviable assets of all. So, sod the Pilates class and let's crack open another bottle of wine.

Facebook Etiquette

It seems strange to me, in a world where life is ever increasingly played out in front of a computer screen, and on social networking sites, that rules as to what constitutes cyber-decency are so few and far in between. With so many of us now appearing to inhabit a virtual reality it seems only right that regulations regarding what is appropriate behaviour in this new and wonderful world of the web, should be available to guide the naive. Long gone are the days of etiquette schools with young girls balancing books on their heads and reciting rhymes of “How now brown cow” but does the technological high-jacking of our social world really mean that all rules go out the window? In my opinion, no. Simply that we should update the rule book using our overpriced, under-achieving, virus-riddled laptops, uploading it to co-exist with us in this tekkie wonderland, alongside porn and illegal download websites. So here I present to you my rules of Facebook etiquette.
　

• Statuses are one of the more fun and useful aspects of Facebook, allowing you to keep up to date with your friends and families. Despite the obvious benefits statuses are also a hot bed for Facebook faux pas. One of the most common misdemeanours is the setting of too many statuses or statuses of an exceedingly trivial nature. ‘[Insert name here] just ate a slice of toast’ DOES NOT warrant publication, I do not need to know the exact details of your culinary habits, tv-watching antics or bowel movements, thank you very much. As for frequency of statuses, as a general rule one status a day should suffice- only on a particularly interesting day is a second statuses warranted or, indeed, permitted. Just to specify- interesting events include having your leg bitten off by a shark or winning the lottery

• Another status issue is the transformation of a usually witty, intelligent person into a status ‘sheep’. Times this is most likely to happen is during the X-factor season or a particularly important football game. This is all well and good but please only add to the discussion if you have an interesting/original point to make, don’t jump on the bandwagon for the sake of doing so- Christina Aguilera can’t have got that fat surely? Was the Ref really so wrong about that offside decision?

• The most heinous of Facebook crimes are what I like to call ‘POD’ offences- those committed by those living in ‘the love pod’, no longer aware that anything exists outside their seemingly perfect (and truly sickening) relationship. Now, I am actually in a long-term relationship, this does not however change my views on the issue. In fact if anything it strengthens them. Even when my boyfriend has done something particularly praise worthy, I do not feel the need to congratulate him in such a public manner (and he has been duly warned that I expect the same level of restraint from him). I have his number and so if I have something to say to him, I‘ll use it. My rules on this matter stem from my belief that a) Some things in life are meant to be private and b) I believe people who define themselves as nothing more than one half of a couple are, well… Boring. Sorry, but PDA’s are no more acceptable in the cyber-world than they are in reality. So to specify- Soppy statuses, lovey wall posts and kissing photos all come under this heading. Kissing photos are particularly problematic for me. The fact that you purposely took, uploaded, and shared these indicates to me some sort of voyeuristic fetish on your behalf and it is neither the time nor the place for such behaviour (Facebook being a social networking site and not a swingers forum). Please do not make me party to your sexual endeavours

• The next item to make it onto my list is Facebook profile rapes or ‘Frapes’ as they have come to be known. Now, I’m all for a bit of Fraping. Who doesn’t enjoy a bit of public humilation now and then? (How else would you explain the popularity of I’m A Celebrity Get Me Out of Here) but please- keep them funny and original. Seeing ‘So and So is gay’ pop up on my feed 30 times a day has come to make poor Facebook stalking material. I know the allure of an unattended and signed-in profile is hard to resist but if you don’t have anything to say then please just leave well alone. I feel the need here to point out some of my favourite examples of frapes-　

A Facebook friend recently had her profile hijacked resulting in the announcing of her unexpected pregnancy. Now, I’ve seen a few of these done before but what made this a particularly successful was the lengths the Fraper went to make it look convincing. A (presumably googled) scan photo was set as the profile picture, and the status was followed by convincing comments insisting that the pregnancy was true, nominating god-parents and expressing surprise and trepidation at her forth-coming situation. The key here was commitment- it had me checking on the progress of the situation for a good few hours and so expert Fraper, I applaud you.

Also worthy of a mention here is a friend of mine who has been the most frequent and stealthy attacker of my profile, resulting in simply foul (and quite disturbing) Frapes-which to my dismay, have been very well received. So well done you. Now kindly stay away from my computer.

• This however, brings me on to my next point- Facebook baby talk. Great, so you’re pregnant (you and the rest of the under 21 population)- congratulations/commiserations (delete as appropriate). I understand that Facebook may be an effective way for you to announce this news to the world, and I may even bestow upon you a virtual ‘like’ as a method of cheering your ability to procreate, but as far as I’m concerned this does not justify you using Facebook to bombard me with banal and sometimes graphic details of your pregnancy. I do not wish to hear about swollen feet and chronic gas until I am unlucky enough to have to undergo the experience myself. It is quite simply, off-putting, both in terms of its effect on my own wish for children and also in the effect it has on my appetite. In fact as far as I’m concerned, you are entitled to only three statuses in reference to your impending parenthood. 1) When you announce that you do indeed have a bun in the over (rather than having just let yourself go) 2) When labour has started (simply for the reason that being in that much pain does somewhat entitle you to some virtual cheer-leading) and 3) When the little bundle of ‘joy’ has arrived. But that is it. I (and many others, I assure you) have reached our limit in relation to all thing baby related. Ironically this is the time most offenders’ behaviour worsens. Gone are the statuses about epic nights out, hangovers and other frivolity and here to stay are the those achingly dull updates about teething, night-feeds and potty training. To all of you that commit this crime, please note that the only people that interact with you on the subject are other offenders. The rest of us have either hidden you from our feed or deleted you completely. You have been warned.

• My final gripe is Facebook bullies- those people that belong on the Jeremy Kyle show but who choose to play out their dramas on each other’s statuses and walls instead. Though, as a group they can be seen to be the polar opposite to the aforementioned POD people the basis of their crime is the same- a severe lack of a sense of privacy. They are more than happy to hang their virtual dirty washing out to dry in public- arguing over who slept with who, cheated on who and who is the baby’s biological father. Now, although this is technically a complaint- nobody likes a bully after all- I cant help but feel my Facebook experience would be somewhat diminished by their absence, chavvily entertaining as they are- and so it is for that reason, unlike the equally chavvy 16-year old baby-momma’s, that I do not hide or delete these virtual delinquents

However, if remembering all these rules proves too difficult- as far as Facebook behaviour goes, there is only really one rule that you need to live by, and that is-

‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto yourself’

So if you don’t enjoy reading baby-related statuses, having your feed hijacked to discuss the latest flop performance of an Xfactor wannabe or being forced to endure the sickly love proclamations of the emotionally needy then the chances are others don’t either. Keep this in mind and you and your online acquaintances will remain Facebook friends rather than Facebook enemies.