The Big Smoke

Interweb, I have a confession to make. Many years ago, when I was a young girl, I kept a diary. I don't remember what I wrote in it, or even what it looked like (apart from that it was cute, with padded soft covers): I do remember it got read by someone who wasn't me. After the indignation and shame had subsided, I felt the whole diary-writing endeavour was for stronger souls than myself, and I ceased. Until recently, when I signed up for an online diary. "What could be safer than something stored in the very ether?" I said to myself happily, thinking that all my secrets could be poured out in perfect peace. My happiness was short-lived, however, as I discovered the shocking truth that diary sites on the interweb are not for private writing, but for public peep-showing, despite the apparent anonymity of the internet.

I know, I know, you're saying "But can't you just keep everything hidden?" I did try that, but the silent whispering all around me was offputting, as was the sense that everyone around me was so damn cool. Being a complete hypocrite, I had started to peek into other people's diaries and was dismayed to see lists of friends longer than their average entry. Now, perhaps these diarists journalling away are really cool, or just pretending to be social butterflies - who knows? The point is that the sheer apparent popularity of these people dried up my ink faster than a tear dissipates in a wind tunnel.

I felt like a terrible geek, and feared a bully would appear any moment to demand tribute from me in the form of adding him or her to my empty friends list.

Luckily for my sense of self-worth, I poured out my angst to a very dear, and very wise friend. This friend, I shall call him "X-Ray", said,

"Look, Bianca, one internet Live Journal friend is not the same as a real friend. These people collect friends like you and I collect cigarette lighters at parties."

"Oh," I said, not convinced.

"One Live Journal Friend is equivalent (I have scientifically measured this) to 0.00887 real friends," he went on, earnestly.

He even drew me a sketch on a coaster to illustrate Live Journal; the figure being the writer, the trees being their forest of friends:

My dismay at being uncool and friendless on the internets turned to ire that, admittedly, faded with a few more drinks but returned full-force the next day. How dare internet diary sites not have a disclaimer involving X-Ray's Ratio on their home page? How dare they not cater to the downtrodden uncool kids in real life who seek refuge on the internets only to find it's even more a popularity parade than their lonely lives?

I am petitioning all diary sites to include X-Ray's Ratio today, right after I update my profile on Live Journal. After all, a girl needs friends on the internets, even if they are a little ... wooden.