Welcome!: Email is the new messenger.

Tuesday, 2 June 2009

Email is the new messenger.

I may not be too old-fashioned as to still send hand-written postcards with stamps, but I'm a firm believer in emails. Still.

In this age, (and I'm not speaking in business-related concept), emails are getting exceptionally foreign and rare to find. It's easier to just send a text message and chat in various instant messenger services over the net. People hardly ever send emails to each other again, and hasn't it been not too long ago that emails-phenomenon itself was booming and you received mails for the most insignificant and unimportant thing ever?

(I used to receive so many chain-emails from friends with various topics from 'have you believed in Jesus?' to 'warning for contact lens' users!' But these days the only 'junk' emails I got, so to speak, are those information involving viagra. Seriously.)

It used to be 'what's your e-mail address?', and now it's all about 'do you have MSN?' and 'what's your facebook address?' When you meet new people, it's exciting to get to know each other through emails first; ask and get the answer, but now? Just from facebook you could know the most intimate, detailed information about the other person that easily. You don't even have to work for it. Suddenly, he saw your less-than-attractive drunken pictures taken eons ago. No wonder it's harder to meet someone special nowadays.

I mean, I love chatting too and most people know I'm more of a SMS-person rather than a phone-person, but when it comes to emails, I think it serves an entirely different purpose and thus, is still irreplaceable.

(Besides, I'm a lot wittier in e-mails. Or so I'd like to think.)

A friend and I have been talking through e-mails for a long time now, but lately we have gotten lazier and opted for the easier messenger instead. Rather, he has. So I sent him an email again last night to get ourselves back to our roots, but he decided to 'just wait 'til you (meaning me) get online to reply.' See? He was all like, 'I feel like talking to a wall, I like chatting instead 'cos I can know your reaction immediately.'

Like all things in the world, email too isn't perfect. But how could he, or you all, forget that email is still a wonderful thing? It has taken us so long to get here, we should still embrace and celebrate the wonder of being able to truly ramble and tell long stories without distraction and instant mockery from the other party! Don't deny us from our rights!

Sorry, got carried away there.

It's the most traditional way to communicate in this all-digital world, and let's not forget that. I mean, I like writing email and receiving one; it feels more personal, and liberating.

Maybe I should remind my friend, and you all, why we should still rejoice emails even though there are newer (not necessarily better) ways to achieve the same purpose.

Email is easy. There won't be any bills to settle and you can compose emails in five hours (or whatever long you want), in between lunch, television, or any other activities. [insertions here] Totally non-intrusive.

Email is cheap! It's practically free since almost all of you have all-around-the-clock internet connection anyway. Unlike long-distance telephone calls, international smses, you can communicate until your fingers are crammed with anyone on earth.

Email is fast, it takes only a second (or a minute, max) to get your 5-pages long rambling email to reach its destination wherever, may it be to a neighbour across the street, or to anyone on the other side of the planet. 5 pages? Hell, try 10 pages long. Can do!

Emails can be stored. It's easy to save messages and open them again in the future. Unless your computer died of old age, it's most likely that your emails will outlive you. Ha-ha.

Emails is flexible. You can attach pictures, sound files, videos and documents; you can choose to send one email to a number of different people, and it's worldly universal.

Let's all take a step back and remember why emails were awesome in the first place. Just because there's a crispy chicken, doesn't mean the original isn't as good. (Okay, bad metaphor.) I just miss the more conventional way, that anticipation of waiting for a reply, taking pleasure in reading a sort-of-letter (well, it's as close to actual letter than anything else in this era, right?), and express your inner dorkiness when you write one.

I can't believe I put this much emphasis on emails, but hey, a girl has to speak her mind. Instant messengers are great, but there's still no such thing as email. Use it!

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Quotes

There's a hundred million different ways of writing, and it takes you a long time to sort through that stuff. And I think it takes anyone a long time to find a voice.

You must learn to take the good with the bad, the happy with the sad, love what you’ve got and remember what you had. Learn to forgive, but never forget, learn from your mistakes but never regret. People change and things go wrong, but you just have to remember that life goes on.

The day before I’m supposed to be meeting Caroline for a drink, I develop all the textbook symptoms of a crush: nervous stomach, long periods spent daydreaming, an inability to remember what she looks like. I can bring back the dress and the boots, and I can see her bangs, but her face is a blank.

I don't know, I think that if I could just accept the fact that my life is supposed to be difficult. You know, that's what to be expected, then I might not get so pissed-off about it and I'll just be glad when something nice happens.

I can see now I never really committed to Laura. I always had one foot out the door, and that prevented me from doing a lot of things, like thinking about my future and... I guess it made more sense to commit to nothing, keep my options open. And that's suicide. By tiny, tiny increments.

There's a big fucking world out there. It's messy, and it's chaotic, and it's never, never ever the thing you'd expect. It is ok to be scared, but you cannot allow your fears to turn you into an asshole, not when it comes to the people that love you, the people that need you.

Maybe what I'm saying is, is the world might be evolving the way a person evolves. Right? Like, I mean, me for example. Am I getting worse? Am I improving? I don't know. When I was younger, I was healthier, but I was, uh, whacked with insecurity, you know? Now I'm older and my problems are deeper, but I'm more equipped to handle them.

I am nothing special; just a common man with common thoughts, and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten. But in one respect I have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who's ever lived: I've loved another with all my heart and soul; and to me, this has always been enough.

Later that day I got to thinking about relationships. There are those that open you up to something new and exotic, those that are old and familiar, those that bring up lots of questions, those that bring you somewhere unexpected, those that bring you far from where you started, and those that bring you back. But the most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you can find someone to love the you you love, well, that's just fabulous.

A woman needs to be held, even, and science has shown this, if its with someone she doesn't care about. Protective hormones are released, and the amount of hormones released depends on the degree to which she is held. The first and best is the complete surround. He wraps you in both arms, whispers how beautiful you are. Second best is the 'arm around.' He is next to you but with one arm around you. Third is he's just next to you on his elbow, but he rests his hand on your stomach and looks at you. Fourth is you snuggling up to him with your head on his chest, while he looks away into space. But when the first best happens, you feel completely, wonderfully like a woman.

So, so what, so fuck off, go home, leave you alone? I'll tell you something Paul, there isn't anything that I've wanted for eighteen years, cause I was a kid eighteen years ago. And if I did still want the same things I'd think I'd gone wrong somewhere, because actually I don't want to marry David Cassidy, I don't want bigger tits, I don't want to do better on my marks. I've stopped worrying about that kind of thing and maybe you should try.

Well maybe there's a big bit of you that's gone missing somewhere, maybe everyone should want something they've always wanted.

Why is it that adults aren't supposed to go mad about anything? You gotta keep a lid on it. And if you don't then people are apparently entitled to say what they like. "You haven't grown up. You're a moron. Your conversation is trivial and boorish. You can't express your emotional needs. You can't relate to your children." And you die, lonely and miserable. But you know, what the hell, every cloud has a silver lining.

I just woke up one morning and didn't feel the same way. Where did it go? It was like there had been a lot of food on a plate in front of us, and we ate it all really quickly, and then there was nothing left. Maybe that's how couples stay together: they're not greedy. They know that what they have in front of them has to last a long time, so they kind of pick at it. I hope it's not like that, though. I hope that when people are happy together, it feels as though someone keeps piling seconds and thirds on their plates.

That is what I have learned: Sex is destructive. Love is nothing to be fooled with. I learned that I was dangerous, not to be trusted. I wondered if my parents were right, with all of their stiff lovelessness. Maybe they knew better. My parents don't dole out love for the deserving or the undeserving. I was learning that love could cost me.

You could say all you liked about reason and logic and common sense and imagination, but when the chips were down, the one skill you needed was the ability to think about absolutely nothing whatsoever.

There is a comfort in never making an effort, but it's a lonely comfort. What keeps you going is the knowledge that you're only playing with only four cards showing. But when you see other people succeeding with their mediocre hands, you have to make a decision. If you turn over that final card you're certain of victory, but it also means you have nothing in reserve.

I’d gone through life believing in the strength and competence of others; never in my own. Now, dazzled, I discovered that my capacities were real. It was like finding a fortune in the lining of an old coat.

Maybe we all live life at too high a pitch, those of us who absorb emotional things all day, and as mere consequence we can never feel merely content: we have to be unhappy, or ecstatically, head-over-heels happy, and those states are difficult to achieve within a stable, solid relationship.