I wake up this fine morning with a question on teh frontal lobes.
(Though, because I’m not a brain expert, it might be some other lobe or cortex)
Regardless, the question on my brain lately is a rather simple one: LJ is dead, isn’t it?
True, I don’t use it as much any longer. I find that there isn’t much time for it, either, because I’m an aging co-ed making her way through the University Experience (which sounds like a XXX porn title which once may have played at that bawdy cinema on Bloor many years ago before it was shuttered). And it’s not like university has given me a social life; whomever suggested to me that university is about meeting a lot of people did not get the memo that this only applies to some people, not me.
So, anybody still reading this: what’s with LJ/me?
1. LJ is long dead, passed on by myspace.com (which looks really unappealing to me and is grounds for me probably not bothering with it)?
2. The median age of my friends list has increased as the participaton has statistically decreased (e.g., LJ came up with these stats a few years ago, where after age 31, usage drops like a rock)?
3. My extended lack of use in 2005 made people write me off once I no longer entertained?
4. Since starting uni, I’m boring?
5. Since starting uni, I’ve become a mean person?
6. Since always, I’m boring?
7. Since always, I’ve been a mean person?
8. _________________________________
[Pick one or more from this non-poll poll. Or not, because if #1 is the case, it won't be seen to begin with. Gratzi.]
p.s. Did I also miss the memo on the fact that, despite 15 years of believing otherwise and letting sleeping dogs lie, there is an extended “dance mix” of Device’s “Hanging on a Heart Attack” in existence (Device being a Holly Knight one-off project which will turn 20 years old in April and responsible for a song that has saved my good arse more than a few times, to say nothing about how impressionable it was for me back in June 1986 when I’d catch the music video very late at night)? Did this not become apparent to my eleven good house mates (and one sour one) when I was heard squealing with glee from my bedroom at about midnight last night? I’ve still yet to hear it, so the real excitement won’t begin until then. My life is a stupidly simple one.