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Friday, 15 March 2013

I Simply Don't Believe It


The time of year has come around again where exams are looming and deadlines are coming up faster than we had expected, every year I promise myself I won’t leave it until a few days before but I never learn, and we all do the natural thing.  Turn to social media.  Some days go by in the library when I have barely written 50 words over 4 hours because I have spent my time checking my Facebook newsfeed and Twitter timeline and nipping out for crafty cigs.

I love my Facebook and Twitter as much as the next person but to be honest when the days are hot and long its at the back of my mind.  It’s when my work is piling up on top of me I choose my trusty newsfeed over that really important Consumer Choice book that smells a bit like sick.

I know that at times like these, especially for those of us with dissertation deadlines scaring us down to the pub (God bless us all), I am more irritated than normal with people.  People on TV, people in the library, people queuing in front of me at Morrisons, but in particular people on my Facebook and Twitter.  There are a few types of people who, in ode to Peter Griffin, really grind my gears.

There’s the one who always takes pictures of their food.  I love food and have been known to take a proud picture of my most recent baking but most of the time the photos that appear on my timeline don’t even look like something I would give to my dog.  I know I shouldn’t judge but your dinner is actually putting me off my own.

Every newsfeed has the ‘Gym Bunny’.  Whether its the super skinny girl who somehow has maintained her boobs and bum or the crazily muscle guy, its making me feel guilty. And I don’t like it.  I know I have paid for a gym membership which I haven’t used in two months but its not as if your workout didn’t count just because you didn’t document it on Twitter.

I know its sweet and I was happy for you at the time, and I still am, but your new baby/boyfriend is clogging up my newsfeed.  Like every girl I love sweet stories and romance but it can get a bit tiresome seeing thousands of pictures of your baby rolling around on the floor/all the presents your fabulous boyfriend has got you just for being you.

I can honestly say it makes me want to blub when I see a friend’s latest check-in on Facebook in Dubai or Ibiza or Florida or somewhereamazingandhotwhenI’mstillinthelibrary.  I can admit I’m jealous and its not fair.  The same goes for the lucky girl who’s always uploading pictures of her beautiful pair of Louboutins and shiny new Chanel handbag.

All of these people generally fall under the category of the ‘Instagrammer’.  I appreciate a beautiful Instagram as much as the next person but there is a limit as to what qualifies a photo to become a new Instapic.  I think the reason it annoys me is because to view the photo full size it must be opened in a new tab – which for those of you in a student area can sympathise, can take so long due to the crappy internet I give up.


The tragic fact of this is that in truth, at times, I am all of these people.  I think that might be what annoys me the most.

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