My Life (according to Facebook)

As you all no doubt know, Facebook has this handy little side bar which displays ads according to information that it picks up on your profile. Recently I've found that some of these ads are endlessly entertaining, while others are somewhat disturbing. In the interest of endless amusement (and procrastination) I refreshed my Facebook newsfeed three times and copied down the ads that it displayed. And now here I present to you those groups of ads, and what Facebook is apparently telling me about my life.
(Please note: my relationship status is not currently listed on Facebook).

Attempt 1:

Urban Zone Wedges

Durex

The Masked Trader investments

Zoosk: Meet singles on Facebook!
So according to this one, I'm a typical single young woman who is interested in shoes, safe sex, and making money. Nothing too worrying about that.

Attempt 2:

Dress to Impress

Lifestyle pads

#1 Dating App on Facebook

Oreo McFlurry

Facebook appears to be concerned about my relationship status. I am being given hints on how to dress properly and how to meet 'other singles'. Apparently all that safe sex (or, being single, lack of it) means that I need a sanitary pad reminder too. Hooray, at least I'm not pregnant. And if I get too PMS-y or sad about my single life, at least I can eat ice-cream.

Attempt 3:

Save up to 70% on dresses!

Singles on Facebook

Behandel jou depressie

My sex life has now become non-existent. Facebook has given up on reminding me to dress well, and instead insisting that I save money by buying cheap clothes. However, the concern over my singledom remains at an all-time high. And now I can go to depression therapy if my lack of a partner becomes too much for me to handle.

In response to these ads, I have written a letter to Facebook.

Dear Facebook,

Thank you for your concern regarding my life. Although I appreciate your attempts to shoehorn me into a relationship, I should probably inform you that my lack of Facebook relationship status does not mean that I am a sad singleton who is ready to turn to online dating. Quite the contrary, in fact. On that note, the Durex ads were greatly appreciated too; I'm glad you're concerned about preventing STDs and unwanted pregnancy. However, I would rather you didn't speculate about what I may or may not be doing with my female parts, thus please stop sending me ads about condoms and sanitary pads. On the clothing note, I am a broke student and do not have the funds for an online shopping spree, so the clothing and shoe ads are also unnecessary.

Thank you again for your concern.
Tayla

PS: There is no McDonalds in Grahamstown so I cannot get a McFlurry, despite the fact that I am now craving one. Thanks a lot, jerk.

The perilous "Friendzone"

The concept of a 'friendzone' has always confused me. Perhaps I'm liberal like this, but I seem to have met most of my male varsity friends through random Friars hook-ups, either with myself or with one of my res friends. To clarify my own understanding, the 'friendzone' is when a person makes friends with someone of the opposite sex, with the intention of never being more than friends with them. Relationships/hook-ups are considered to be completely out of the question. For this reason, I do not believe that the friendzone really exists.

Honestly, think about it. Imagine you (I'm taking it from a girl's point of view here) make friends with some random guy. You have no romantic interest in him whatsoever. During your friendship you never really consider being anything more than friends. You date other guys. He dates other girls. And then one day, unexpectedly, you look at him and think Huh. He's kinda cute. Does that really seem totally implausible? I don't think so. And I think that every person has, at some point or another (usually when newly single), looked at their opposite-sex friends and wondered what it would be like to hook up with them.

The problem is that many guys seem to lose interest in girls once they realise that they're not going to hook up. Apologies for the generalisation, but I'm speaking from my own experience. At the beginning of last year I had a brief romance with a guy who we shall name X. Later, around June, another new friend we shall name Y asked if he could take me out for coffee. When I entered into a relationship in September, both X and Y suddenly disappeared. I received no more Facebook messages and they seemed totally uninterested in conversation when I bumped into them in person. I shrugged it off, figuring that maybe they just had other things going on. Fast-forward 11 months to where I happened to be single over Trivar. First, I bumped into X. To my surprise he told me he had heard what happened and was sorry about it, and then struck up a long, involved conversation. Whaaaaat? Then I saw Y, who promptly hugged me and said that we should catch up sometime. Two boys, who had previously shown absolutely no interest in being friends, now suddenly seemed friendly again when I was single. Just to be clear, no I did not hook up with either of them.

What this seems to say is that guys are so unbelievably afraid of the friendzone that they'll go to extreme lengths to avoid it; even going so far as to stop being friends with a girl as soon as she's in a relationship. Now I have several theories as to why this may be so...
1) The guy only wanted to hook up with her and lost interest once that opportunity disappeared.
2) The guy was jealous of her boyfriend and didn't want to see her with him.
3) The guy felt guilty and didn't want her boyfriend to dislike him because he was always hanging around this girl.
4) The guy thought she wouldn't be interested in being friends.

In all seriousness, what is wrong with the friendzone? If you like him/her but can't be with them for whatever reason, why not just be friends? It's really not that bad, and if you genuinely get along with the person then it seems like a better option than just never speaking to them again. I've been friendzoned by several guys who I was once keen on, and now I wouldn't dream of hooking up with them. And who knows, maybe if - at some point in the distant future - one of those guys is single and I'm single, a drunken evening may lead to a fantastic relationship. Being in the friendzone is not a bad thing, gentlemen (and ladies). So stop with all these lame "OMG that poor guy has been friendzoned!" posts, because he probably has more of a chance with that girl than you ever will.

Lessons learnt through boxing

As house head student of my res, I've had the pleasant privilege of not having to box up during the holidays (for the non-Rhodents, not having to pack up my room). However, due to carpet cleaning this past holiday, I was forced to lug all my junk into the box rooms. After a long unpacking session this evening, I have learnt several things...

1) I have far too much crap. 

Seriously. In first year I could fit all my many belongings into two boxes, a sports bag and a laundry basket. Now it takes six boxes at least. Is this just girls? Or do guys have this much random junk too? Not only did it take me close on three hours to unpack, BUT it feels like I can't actually throw any of this away. Am I hoarder...?

2) Unpacking is dangerous to one's health

Being the agile ninja that I am, I decided to clamber up onto my desk to pin up my pictures. Then I stepped nimbly off the desk onto my chair to admire my handiwork. The problem? The chair turned out to be about 6cm to the left of where I expected it to be. The result? I bailed backwards off the desk, yanking the chair down with me, and am now limping.

However, I'm not alone in packing-related injuries. A friend just told me that she managed to drag her wheeled bag over her toes and is also presumably limping slightly. The guy who gallantly helped me carry my boxes from the box room managed to scrape his knee when putting one of the heavier boxes down. Summary? Boxing is dangerous.

3) Keep a guy around.

They're loud and testosterone-y, but they're handy to have around when it comes to getting your shit out of the box rooms. Especially when your boxes are right at the bottom of the pile, and someone has placed massive bags filled with books on top of them.

4) Move into digs.

No unpacking or re-packing necessary; once you're in, you're in until you leave. Boxing is the one part of res I'm really NOT going to miss.

And so, three gruelling hours later, my room once more looks like my room with its various knick knacks and photos, and not like a seedy motel room with suspiciously stained duvet covers (there was a rather odd, sticky-looking mark on the res duvet cover when I took it off the bed. I chose not to examine it more closely). Perhaps I have a lot of unnecessary crap, but at least once it's all back in its proper place I begin to feel like I'm finally home :)

Hey look, a deadline!

"I like deadlines. I love the whooshing noise they make as they fly past."
 - Douglas Adams

It's that time of the semester again: Hell Week. Only for me, Hell Week appears to be extended over several weeks. Which is not as relaxing as it sounds.
For the non-Rhodents out there, Hell Week is the one week a semester when everything is due. No one is entirely sure why this happens, but for some reason lecturers seem to ensure that every assignment, test and prac write-up is due in at exactly the same time. My lecturers, however, appear to be slightly more sadistic than that. You see, every semester my work basically includes: two philosophy essays, three law essays and three law tests. This is not a bad workload for a six month period. The catch is that they decide to make the due dates within a few days of one another. Last Friday I had a test. Tomorrow I have another one. I have an assignment due this Friday, a test on the first Friday of next term and another essay due on the following Friday. Basically, I have work due or tests (each of which count about 15% of my semester marks) EVERY FRIGGEN WEEK for the next four weeks. Fan-bloody-tastic.

But seriously, this seems to be far too much of a coincidence. How is it that every single student seems to experience a Hell Week at some point during the semester? Is that just how varsity is? Is it mere coincidence? Poor timing? Or do the heads of different departments get together once a year in the dead of night and discuss how exactly they're going to arrange Hell Week? I can just picture it: black cloaks, furtive glances, whispers of "If we set the economics test for 14 April, then we can make the law assignment due on the 16th...", child-like giggles as they imagine the devastated looks on the students faces...
What cruel, cruel people.

So here's a brief shout-out to everyone currently experiencing/ on the way to experiencing Hell Week. I wish you all the best, and just keep reminding yourself that nothing lasts forever :)

Sunday night jams

"Boom boom boom boom, I want you in my room! Let's spend the night together, from now until forever!"

I am ashamed to admit that I'm seriously sitting here listening to the Venga Boys. And not only listening to it (voluntarily I might add) but cheerfully bobbing my head along to it while I read my contract law textbook. I may even be wiggling in my seat a little.

You see, I discovered a while ago that Sunday nights tend to be the most depressing night of every week. You KNOW that you're going to have to get up early the next day, you know you have work due, and more than anything you know that you have a week of work ahead of you. While I understand why Garfield didn't like Mondays, I still reckon Sunday nights are worse. It's 20:23, I have a test AND an assignment due in the coming week, and the awesome weekend that is over. In fact, it's quite well summed up by Douglas Adams in the following quote:

“In the end, it was the Sunday afternoons he couldn't cope with, and that terrible listlessness which starts to set in at about 2:55, when you know that you've had all the baths you can usefully have that day, that however hard you stare at any given paragraph in the papers you will never actually read it, or use the revolutionary new pruning technique it describes, and that as you stare at the clock the hands will move relentlessly on to four o'clock, and you will enter the long dark teatime of the soul.”

Sundays, in a word, suck. But I have come up with an amazing method to rid oneself of Sunday night blues and get vaguely comfortable with the week ahead, if not exactly amped. My secret? Lame, happy over-the-top music.
Seriously.
Try it.
My plan originally started when I was thinking about having to get up early in the morning. I vaguely recalled a Venga Boys song about "another day of stress and sorrow" and decided to download it to complement my depro Sunday night mood. Now I'm happily singing along rather loudly to Uncle John from Jamaica. My mood has been lifted and I feel less angsty about the week ahead! And so before I depart to continue with my law studying (and so that I have an excuse to jam alone to the Venga boys for a few more minutes) I present to you:

The Ultimate Sunday Night Blues Music List

• Uncle John from Jamaica - Venga Boys
• Shalalalala - Venga Boys
• Boom boom boom boom - Venga Boys
• Well, anything by the Venga Boys to be honest.
• Life is a Highway - Rascal Flats
• Suddenly I See - KT Tunstall
• We Go Together - Grease
• The Bird and the Worm - Owl City
• Walking on sunshine - Aly and AJ
• The Lazy Song - Bruno Mars
• Bad Moon Rising - CCR
• It's Tough to be a God - Elton John (yes it's a Disney song. Don't judge :P )
• All Summer Long - Kid Rock
• I Just Had Sex - Lonely Island ("So this one's dedicated to them girls that let us flop around on top of them...")
• Thriller  -Michael Jackson (and yes you have to dance along)
• Sweet Caroline - Neil Diamond

So there you have my happy-clappy Sunday night music. Yes it's lame. Yes it's horrifically cheerful and weird and strange. But if you're not smiling after listening to this bubblegum-pop list, then I'm afraid there's no hope for you. And if you think this is bad, I have a confession to make:

I listen to Nickelback. AND I LIKE THEM. 

Suddenly this list isn't looking so bad, is it? :P