When you have a foot in two countries you get used to being unable to spend physical time with some friends, using social media to see what they are up to. Which I’m normally really bad at, scrolling through Facebook once a week or so, resorting to stalking friends when my news feed is full of crap I don’t give two hoots about. I dislike the way social media manipulates people and their feelings and I get quite angry when Facebook suggests things you may be interested in. It’s rarely accurate, probably because it’s generated from what I look at and I’m hopeless with anything touch screen (give me a keyboard and mouse any day). Every time I use one there must be at least half a dozen instances I can be heard yelling ‘I didn’t ask you to go there’ because my finger has inadvertently touched something and taken me into it. If any authorities really are watching what we do on social media this page may suddenly go quiet and I’ll be in a different form of lockdown.
Whilst my mind isn’t, my fingers are dyslexic – when I type I often get all the right letters in a word but in completely the wrong order. (In truth, I often get all the wrong letters.) Put them anywhere near something that is activated by touch and I’m hopeless, pages appearing from nowhere, words that make no sense at all (autocorrect doesn’t help). I’m currently using an electric stovetop (apparently gas in an eleven storey apartment building isn’t a good idea…) with touch controls and cooking a simple meal becomes a test of my ability to create new swear words (I have a good teacher in my husband for that one).
Anyway, back to Facebook. The main reason I’m looking at it so often is because there is so much humour on there at the moment. Some is very simple (but clever: ‘John is travelling… from the bedroom to the kitchen’) and some is so old I remember seeing it printed and passed around before Mark Zuckerberg was a twinkle in his dad’s eye. There are snippets of classic comedies (a brilliant and topical one from Yes, Minister) and some make you laugh out loud, then cover your mouth (damn, touched my face again!) because, really, they are very black and you know you shouldn’t be laughing. But what the hell. If humour, even the blackest, is going to help us get through this, I’m going to laugh. And, until I can get back to my normal outdoor pastimes, I’m going to keep scrolling.
(And if anyone is wondering, the photo is of my phone cover.)