dear diary: do my friends really like me?

 sometimes i will be so excited or amused about something that happened in my life, so who do i rush to share this "event" with, and chances are (if it isn't something simple like a quirky bit of slapstick between me and Tony), i will post into the FB and wait for the friends to mirror my feelings.... but instead, i hear the virtual crickets chirping...

i have hundreds of people who claim to feel fond enough for me to consider me a "friend", but the actual friends are so few i could count them one hand, and if i am lucky a majority of these people just see me as "interesting" and want to follow my posts, on the off chance that they might find something that interests them enough to read it.... a small amount of them act like groupies, but LJ sort of prepared me for this, i sort of ignore them (and wonder if i should do both of us a favor and "unfriend" them)....

this "social media" of FB is proving itself to be very unsocial in my own experiences with it... it has even pushed me into using Dreamwidth to become my online-(and public)-diary... even though this site exceeds even the occasional virtual-crickets; try the intimidating hollow echo.... this site is empty as a ghost town, and my posts are predominantly ignored... but to be honest, i really think that i seriously needed to be forced into this "state of silence" again..

when i was a small child, and into my teens, a diary was a sacred book... it was meant to hold written pieces that were sneaking thru my head... and no one, NO ONE, had permission to read it...... of course, LJ broke me of that.... the anonymity made slightly less painful than i expected, but take into consideration that this took place near to a decade; i was ruined of the need for "secrecy"...... at THAT point i had reached a stage where i only believed that my thoughts/idea/dreams only had any merit because they were read by someone else...

it will be interesting to see how many of my FB-friends actually reads this journal-entry.... i could bet you a Franklin that anyone who reads this will know full well, that they are most likely a genuine friend of mine...
shalom - Ulla/e. & co.

dear diary: was Nanny moody, or was i?

 i was just pacing the hallway (to get my walk for the day), and had to walk into the living room to read the title/artist of the song that was playing on the TV..... it was the "piano concerto no. 22, in E-flat" by (you guessed it) Mozart... for some reason he really grew on me and i never  shook it, i have to admit that he is nearly my fave (right under Bach)....

and i had a funny experience this afternoon, when i was reading the textbook, a song came on that sent me on a flashback to being a little girl (and was dancing in Nanny's hallway, where she stored her Victrola).... i had to pause my work then also, and walk up to the TV to read the artist and saw (*drum-roll*) it was Tchaikovsky..... for some reason he was the only person whose records i was playing back then (well, him and Shirley Temple).... 

the funny part is that this might be because i preferred his work *or* because Nanny did (and only had albums of his work, no Mozart/etc. to be found).... at either rate, it was very fitting.... the Russians have always struck me of passion and moods, something that i was much more likely to experience as a child... i might be a bit moody still, but my passion has flown right out the window...

maybe it's just perimenopause....

shalom - e. & co.

constitutional: 1,010 steps
daily walk: 455 steps