- Blizzard
- CoverSpy
- Real-life superhero
- How genetics works
- Hipster Wife Hunting
- The Real Timothy McSweeney

(Previously: Lists, part 32)






A few weeks ago, the topic of social networking came up (Facebook and Twitter, in particular) among some work colleagues. I was walking by and stopped to say hello to some people and got caught up in it. Someone said, "It's for people who want to feel connected to a world they are not connected in." And for whatever reason, I found that so interesting. Because social networking is sort of seen as a plus: you stay connected, you can keep up with friends and family and so on. But at the same time, you're alienating yourself from the people in your real life. Right? You're staying connected in front of a screen, not with another face. As the work colleague continued, "This is a community (points to everyone around), not sending a status update on what you're eating to however many hundreds of people you 'know'." That was met with a chorus of laughter.

Through the years, I've become indifferent to social networking. I know something like Facebook has become a necessity in life, and I'm not sure if that's scary or if that's okay. I understand it helps you keep in touch with people, especially the ones you don't consistently talk to but still want to know. And I dig that, I do. But if you don't participate in status updates or sharing things or whatever that's in now, people "forget" you. I personally still treat Facebook like it was way back in the day, pre-news feed, pre-status updates, pre-all that stuff. So essentially, I just exist. People find me, that's cool. A random hello from time-to-time, great. And in that sense, I guess I'm bucking the norms of social networking--you have to be active and participate. Much like in real life, to meet people and make friends, you have to go out and do the whole meet-and-greet.

But you can look at me and say, "Amy, you blog." Well, yes, that's true. I write online and somehow people read what I write and there's feedback (can I just say, after all these years, this still amazes me to this very day? People actually read what I write? What?). But you see, blogging wasn't always social networking. It was just... writing online. An online journal. And I still treat it that way. I'm not against making it into a community because it's actually kind of great and we are a community. We "meet" each other and sometimes actually do meet each other. And in that sense, it is sort of like Facebook, minus some details. But I don't know, this thing of writing online--it just feels different from most kinds of social networking. I can't quite explain why.

Sometimes I think social networking makes email and phone calls obsolete. It's like email is the new handwritten letter and phone calls are some strange creature from the unknown (what is this noise? A human voice?!). I guess I'm just old school with how I keep in touch with people. I like writing and reading emails, I have come to love phone calls (well, Skype calls at least), and I like getting an old-fashioned letter in the mail! Anyway, I had a point to all of this, but I forget now. It was something along the lines of unplug yourself now and then, because all this connectivity can leave you more alone than you think. Something like that. Now if you excuse me, I'm off to publish this entry, update Flickr, check Tumblr and...






It was near the end of my work day on Friday when my desk phone rang. I answered and heard a brief pause before a man spoke:

"Hi... this is going to be... embarrassing, but are you... Amy?"

"Yeah, this is Amy."

"Okay... I, well, are you on Match.com by any chance?"

"Uh, no, I'm not..."

Quickly realizing what the situation was, I began to enjoy this man's awkwardness immensely. These are my favorite kinds of awkward, in which I'm not directly involved nor the cause of the awkwardness. I'm just this innocent bystander who, by chance, stumbled upon something awkwardly wonderful.

"Okay, then this is REALLY embarrassing then. And your name is Amy, right?"

"Yes. Who are you?"

"Steve. Amy, can I ask how old you are?"

I say my age and he replies, "Oh, you're a little too young for me..." Creepy? Not creepy? The reaction in my head was, "HMMM..." He continued on, as if he had gone so far into the unknown, there was no turning back. The embarrassment and awkwardness was beyond him.

"And you're not on Match or JDate?"

"No, I'm definitely not on those sites."

"And this is (says my work number)?"

"Yeah... that's so weird. I mean, sometimes people use my line to make calls. Maybe someone left you a message from my line..."

"I don't think so... and below it says... 'natural beauty'..."

At this point, I'm incredibly amused and incredibly baffled. Clearly, no one left him a message or a text message (I asked). He had all this information in front of him.

"I'm sorry, I wish I could help you find the right person. Do you have any other information?"

"No. You must be bored at work if you're humoring me! (laughs nervously)"

Well, it was near the end of my work day and true, I had nothing better to do. But a large part of me wanted to figure this out and also, I like helping people find their potential other halves. It's all about the love, my friends.

"Yeah (laughs). Well, I hope you find her! I'm sorry, she's not me."

"Well, thanks for helping. And, um, have a great weekend!"

"Thanks, you too!"

I hung up the phone and burst out laughing. I've had my fair share of strange and bizarre phone calls, but this is probably my favorite. This has never happened to me before! I sat at my desk for a few minutes, thinking of two logical explanations: 1) one of my coworkers made a profile with my work info on Match.com for kicks or 2) a few years ago my work number used to be a residential number for another Amy. Otherwise, I'm baffled. But more amused than anything!






So I walked into the restroom, opened the next available stall... and found pee all over the toilet seat.

Ladies, I do not care what position you pee in, but if you pee all over the seat (all. over. it.), SEE IT and proceed NOT to clean it off, we will have words. And let me save you the suspense: I WILL WIN THIS ARGUMENT. And if things get ugly, let me save you the suspense again: I WILL WIN THIS DUEL.






"What's your name?"

"Amy. And your name?"

"Yosef. Nice to meet you, Amy."

"Nice to meet you, Yosef."

I meet a lot of interesting people during my job. (Have I ever told you what my job is? Think Devil Wears Prada, minus the over-the-top boss. I run around doing random things, which range from being hectic and tense to calm and easy with a lot of hilarity mixed in.) Today I met Yosef. He was born in Ethiopia and grew up in Israel. When I asked where he was from, and he said Israel, my immediate reaction was a surprised, "Really??" He laughed and said, "Yes, really?? I'm interesting, eh?" He moved to Israel when he was young, and at 18, he began service in the Israeli army for three years. I asked if this was still required now, and he said, "Yes, of course!" He said Israel needs it because "she's always hurting." I liked how he called his country "she." Afterwards, he was a bodyguard and then he finally left and came to America at the age of 23. He said, "Well, I'm 52 now..." I burst out laughing. "Why you laughing?" I said, "You don't look 52, Yosef." He chuckled and said, "Nah, I'm 41. And I've lived a good life."

We talked about running (he used to get up at 5AM to run everday), and when I said I liked playing sports, hiking and things like that, he said jokingly, "But you are a woman!!" Somewhere in between, he asked about my husband and I went, "WHOAAA, I am not married." Then I couldn't stop laughing because no one ever thinks I'm married; I always get the what high school do you go to question! Yosef was confused by my reaction and once I gathered myself together, I explained to him why. In turn, he burst out laughing for a good while. "I'm very flattered that you think I'm married." Then he prodded, "Boyfriend?" I paused and shook my head. He said, "They missing out, they missing out." I smiled and shook my head even more.

At the end of our time together, I said, "It was wonderful meeting you, Yosef." He took my hand and said with a smile, "A pleasure, Ms. Amy."