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okay. here i go with the posting.
man, it is cool to have one's geekery be in demand. i spent close to eight hours today going well, sure, that transcription matches that recording, but who pronounces contribute like that?!, and knowing i was going to be paid for it.
[wu:wfʌkInhu:w], if you'll allow me to say so.
So, taking the last part first, I hear from Agent Grapevine that the class of students who just finished their MSt in linguistics -- a group I somehow, inexplicably, think of as being a year behind me, although they got here at the same time I did and took a one-year degree so they finished a year sooner -- all got distinction, except one. The first thing of course is, how wretched for that one (because, if you think about it, the fact that everyone else got distinction really just means that she's the only one who got distinction, but it's a distinction of another sort); but the thing to really focus on is, wait, ALL of them? Even that guy, and whatshername, etc? People I know in other departments have been pulling down distinctions since the late spring, but that hasn't done anything to reassure me about my own prospects, but now if everyone in The Class That's Not Really The Class Behind Me (apart from one) got distinction, my optimism has taken a distinct yet cautious shot in the arm. Cautious, see, because while this does tend to make one think that distinction is the rule rather than the exception, that was for the MSt, and I don't have any idea how the MPhil people did. It's a longer thesis, an additional exam (they had three, we'll have four), and a higher pass mark. So if the people who just finished their MPhil -- a group I do think of as being a year ahead of me, incidentally, which they are -- got distinctions of their own, then I'll feel better.
The other thing was about people in the box and emotional distance. Predictably, the thoughts I had the other night when I didn't have time to type them have more or less gone now, but in general, what I was thinking was, sometimes it's surprising, sometimes people are surprised, at how much opening up happens online. How can people get so close to people they've never met, is the general refrain. And then things turn immediately to a disagreement about the definition of meet and the question never really gets answered, but I think, for me?, sometimes, the answer is, actually mostly I don't.
It was a whole series of randomly connected thoughts about various things, but it mainly came out of this story: two and a half weeks ago, we got the news that a friend from the curling club had committed suicide. I didn't know him well, but a notch or two better than just to say hi, we played together for about half a season, and he was good friends with a number of people I consider good friends, so it was more than just a by-the-way thing for me. But I was with three of my approximately six closest, dearest, fiercest friends in the world, and we were only going to get to spend a few days together, so I didn't want to talk about it, and I went about my days -- until a point on Saturday afternoon, when, I don't even know what set me off, but I couldn't play through it anymore, and I just sat down and started to cry. And they were, understandably I suppose, surprised and alarmed, but I didn't want to talk about it and get even more upset and harsh the whole rest of the weekend for everyone, so I took a couple of minutes and then I pulled myself together and I didn't explain my mysterious bout of sobbing until I was back here and laid it out in an e-mail.
But in a chat window, or a livejournal post, I don't tend to wait to talk about things. Or, if I do, it's because I'm not ready to talk about it, rather than because I don't want to ruin anyone's day who decides to listen. I talk about more, and in more detail, with people who don't know my name than I often do with people I've lived with. I have a couple of posting filters that restrict things to people I know in real life, but I have at least one that restricts things to people I don't know in real life, and what's that all about? It's not that those of you on the non-RL filter know me better than those of you it locks out. Probably the opposite, in fact; I'll talk about personal things where people who know me better can't see, and is it for the same reason I didn't want to talk two weeks ago with my verybest friends about why I was upset? It's not that I'm unwilling to appear vulnerable to those who know and (presumably) love me; and it's not, I suppose, that I'm keeping things from --
Okay, I think I get it. Maybe what it is, is that the more I'm willing to talk about with a person, the less I'm generally concerned about sparing that person's feelings. Which is not to say I don't give a damn what people think; it's more that, the closer with a person I am, the more I suspect that I might have as much an effect on his or her mood as he or she can have on mine. And so, when the fact that I was upset was likely to make my friends sad, and for more than just a few minutes, I didn't want to reveal to them that I was upset because I didn't want them to be sad. But I don't mind letting it show, how upset I am, to people who, when I'm upset, may well be sorry, but when they're done reading about it will click on something else and move on with their day.
Hmm. Well, it makes sense to me, anyway. :-]
[wu:wfʌkInhu:w], if you'll allow me to say so.
So, taking the last part first, I hear from Agent Grapevine that the class of students who just finished their MSt in linguistics -- a group I somehow, inexplicably, think of as being a year behind me, although they got here at the same time I did and took a one-year degree so they finished a year sooner -- all got distinction, except one. The first thing of course is, how wretched for that one (because, if you think about it, the fact that everyone else got distinction really just means that she's the only one who got distinction, but it's a distinction of another sort); but the thing to really focus on is, wait, ALL of them? Even that guy, and whatshername, etc? People I know in other departments have been pulling down distinctions since the late spring, but that hasn't done anything to reassure me about my own prospects, but now if everyone in The Class That's Not Really The Class Behind Me (apart from one) got distinction, my optimism has taken a distinct yet cautious shot in the arm. Cautious, see, because while this does tend to make one think that distinction is the rule rather than the exception, that was for the MSt, and I don't have any idea how the MPhil people did. It's a longer thesis, an additional exam (they had three, we'll have four), and a higher pass mark. So if the people who just finished their MPhil -- a group I do think of as being a year ahead of me, incidentally, which they are -- got distinctions of their own, then I'll feel better.
The other thing was about people in the box and emotional distance. Predictably, the thoughts I had the other night when I didn't have time to type them have more or less gone now, but in general, what I was thinking was, sometimes it's surprising, sometimes people are surprised, at how much opening up happens online. How can people get so close to people they've never met, is the general refrain. And then things turn immediately to a disagreement about the definition of meet and the question never really gets answered, but I think, for me?, sometimes, the answer is, actually mostly I don't.
It was a whole series of randomly connected thoughts about various things, but it mainly came out of this story: two and a half weeks ago, we got the news that a friend from the curling club had committed suicide. I didn't know him well, but a notch or two better than just to say hi, we played together for about half a season, and he was good friends with a number of people I consider good friends, so it was more than just a by-the-way thing for me. But I was with three of my approximately six closest, dearest, fiercest friends in the world, and we were only going to get to spend a few days together, so I didn't want to talk about it, and I went about my days -- until a point on Saturday afternoon, when, I don't even know what set me off, but I couldn't play through it anymore, and I just sat down and started to cry. And they were, understandably I suppose, surprised and alarmed, but I didn't want to talk about it and get even more upset and harsh the whole rest of the weekend for everyone, so I took a couple of minutes and then I pulled myself together and I didn't explain my mysterious bout of sobbing until I was back here and laid it out in an e-mail.
But in a chat window, or a livejournal post, I don't tend to wait to talk about things. Or, if I do, it's because I'm not ready to talk about it, rather than because I don't want to ruin anyone's day who decides to listen. I talk about more, and in more detail, with people who don't know my name than I often do with people I've lived with. I have a couple of posting filters that restrict things to people I know in real life, but I have at least one that restricts things to people I don't know in real life, and what's that all about? It's not that those of you on the non-RL filter know me better than those of you it locks out. Probably the opposite, in fact; I'll talk about personal things where people who know me better can't see, and is it for the same reason I didn't want to talk two weeks ago with my verybest friends about why I was upset? It's not that I'm unwilling to appear vulnerable to those who know and (presumably) love me; and it's not, I suppose, that I'm keeping things from --
Okay, I think I get it. Maybe what it is, is that the more I'm willing to talk about with a person, the less I'm generally concerned about sparing that person's feelings. Which is not to say I don't give a damn what people think; it's more that, the closer with a person I am, the more I suspect that I might have as much an effect on his or her mood as he or she can have on mine. And so, when the fact that I was upset was likely to make my friends sad, and for more than just a few minutes, I didn't want to reveal to them that I was upset because I didn't want them to be sad. But I don't mind letting it show, how upset I am, to people who, when I'm upset, may well be sorry, but when they're done reading about it will click on something else and move on with their day.
Hmm. Well, it makes sense to me, anyway. :-]
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I know what you mean about the people in the box thing. It's like, you can tell ME about your sort-friend who committed suicide because it's not going to ruin my day or make me over-solicitous or anything. At the most, when you reveal a trauma online, people send you little {HUGS} and stuff. It's not nearly so annoying as having people want to REALLY hug you, question you, and look all concerned and stuff as they try to make you spill your guts. [shudder]
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anyway, i agree on the whole box/distance thing. also, i think, when you're talking to people at some distance, there's less of a worry about other people's preconceived notions of the situation -- or, even if they have them, they are not intimately involved in your life and therefore have no preconceived notions of your preconceived notions, and therefore you feel more like you'll be taken at face value. on a different tack, it's also easier to retreat quickly if a line is crossed, so it's safer to go farther.
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i shall refrain from saying [dʌ]! :-D
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i cannot make it give me these fancy symbols instead of tickybox shapes (with or without chocolate frosting). grr.
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[headscratch]
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yes -- and as i said to
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And as I said, I have grown v. close to a lot of box people. (And I remember how I thought Lee was weird talking to box people about Buffy junior year...who knew?) Both ones I've met in person (be it repeatedly, or just briefly) and a few I've not (yet!) met. I think some people don't think of the internet like we do--they're imagining chat rooms and match.com or something, and I think of message boards and friendslocked posts on LJ and smart people who know how to spell.
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*nodnodnod* I've found that a lot of people assume pseudonymous = anonymous, and are very surprised at how much social capital can go into a pseudonym.
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i can't call her anything but fox, even in my own mind, and i know her name. same with
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i actually had to ask
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Besides, foxes are cute. :)
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must be almost my bedtime ...
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[mumbles] it'll be ten years in september.
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[blink] OK. Once the lid is off, though, shouldn't you give some sort of clue as to what's going on?
Anyway, there's plenty of stuff only perfect strangers know about me. I'd rather it weren't there to be known, so discussing it with total strangers is an attempt at exorcism, so I don't carry things back to the nest (as it were) that I'd rather weren't there.
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i did tell them (a) i was okay and (b) what was upsetting me wasn't anything to do with them. and i said i wasn't ready to talk about it yet. and i (c) pulled myself together within about five minutes, and (d) had no more strange breakdown-like moments for the rest of the weekend. it was all right.
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