Social Media - connectivity or a curse?

Being far away from home it becomes more realistic these days to keep connected with those at home (and indeed flung around the globe as most of my friends seem to be these days), by the use of the frenzied social media sites that are firing up our generation. Given we are fairly new to this huge game changing form of communication, I have begun investing time in a few aspects of it in order to keep up with my offspring who seem to schmooze their way (age 10) through the whole gamete of channels available to them...stop me if I start sounding like my mother at this point.

Whilst  undertaking this task some things I have found to be pleasing in my brave new world of techno savviness - blogs are agreeing with me, seems you can merrily vent about various aspects of life, click a few buttons, add a few pics and you're off to the races. Facebook seems a tad trickier than it first appeared - new applications popping up daily, friends from the past who you may be wishing to remain there, and the whole invasion into your daily face time with the computer are aspects that seem to be disconcerting.

A real live friend of mine recently worried that she was asked to befriend someone on Facebook who she could only recall, at best, as being the person who stuck pins in her at school! What was the etiquette for politely suggesting to the pin sticker that it might not be appropriate, even  30 years later to assume that 'friendship' would be a bond that is blithely bartered online. It seems to be considered cool to some on the site to have as many friends as you can, competitive 'friending' has become a new pass time for those who maybe don't possess the live versions and are turning to a virtual world to keep them company.

The upside I guess, is that as we evolve along with these social mediums our etiquette will improve and somewhere out there sometime (probably already there) we will be able to call upon a brave new version of the Lucy Clayton Finishing School to teach us polite society's' way forward.

The one in which we realise that there is no 'personal space' delineation on an American beach

A swoop to the Hampton's thanks to a blag from an old bachelor school mate of hubs is being undertaken - there's idle talk that he dated Ivanka Trump but the flu blighted their path of true love - for a brief second I had  imagined myself at the nuptials, the wedding of the season, rubbing shoulders with NY societies best, but the truth is my bachelor mate is a commitment phobe & not even Ivanka with a fair wind could snag him.

I had imagined myself billeted in a Calvin Klein lookalike house right on the ocean front a la Jack Nicholson & Diane Keaton in 'As good as it gets" - sadly our bachelor buddy is not into salt water and last years trip was spent in a rental on the wrong side of the tracks - but thankfully with the luxury of a pool & a tennis court - yay!

That time we hit the beach mid mornings and deposited ourselves in a nice big space not far from the breaking waves, but close enough to the lifeguard to feel comfy about our hoard of kids playing in the waves. Before long we began to notice that we had many new friends around us - then it dawned on us that there is a complete lack of appreciation of personal space on a USA beach.

At home the odd crazed person might tote an umbrella and at best a deckchair for an aged Aunt down to the sand, but here its all about the amount of equipment you bring on to the beach and, it seems, how close you can rock up to your neighbour without actually sitting on their lap.

Just when you thought you had set up a safe distance from your neighbour to enable your shouty 4 year old to fling sand around without the embarrassment of chucking it over another beach goer - lo & behold a family sidles right on up within an inch of your comfort zone and sets up camp.

This country is huge, its beaches vast - it makes you want to yell those illicit words "but I was here first!". The only way to deal is to throw yourself back to those halcyon days on the beach at Barry Island and once more feel at home with the proximity of your fellow bathers.

The one in which we realise that pushing in with a smile on your face is deemed acceptable....

The wonder of Wholefoods is almost like a religious calling in this town - everything is polished and primped to within an inch of its organic life (think M&S on acid). Did you even know you could buy egg whites in a carton - can't even be bothered to crack an egg? don't have the home economics skills to separate it once cracked? Fear not, you are in the USA - its all done for you.

The patrons of this wonderful store however, are something to be viewed on with trepidation. On a recent trip having waited for a full 15 minutes in the queue (sorry - 'in line') at the fish counter, I was blind sided by a local teeny tiny wife who started ordering before me, "Hang on" I chirped, "I thought I was here first" - Brit speak for "Oy love, don't push in".

"Excuse me?" she responds - local speak for "I don't really give a dam".

Suitably derided I start my order - sadly for the teeny tiny lady its longer than she can stand and I receive a number of sideways cutting glances. Towards the close of my deal she starts to boil over.

"I only wanted one thing" she simpers with the biggest smile on her face I have seen, flashing those de rigueur pearly whites at me - as if we were in fact having a polite conversation.

"Shame" I respond, my own teeth clenched in my attempt at a local smile, "but we've been waiting 15 minutes"

"I have kids waiting in the car" she tries (Sorry is that not illegal here - call 911)

"Oh dear"' I counter, "but my 3 kids are getting rather angsty with all the waiting"

"I've been working all day" is her final repost, as if that should give her a green light to queue hop wherever she pleases. 

I smother my snorts of laughter, grab my shrimp and spirit my entourage to the next aisle where we collapse in a fit of giggles as my eldest is mortified by the 'rude smiley lady' he has just encountered.

The key to what makes this kind of situation more amusing is that our American friends can smile their way through any argument, whereas us Brits would be happier letting loose with a frown or two and some foul language. Perhaps its a skill to learn whilst here. Note to self - this week shall work on my "excuse me, I'm queue jumping & I'm going to make you feel guilty about it" smile....

p.s. if you really are missing Brit food try the following links :

www.britishfoodshop.com, 

www.britishdelights.com,

www.jollygrub.com

The one in which we wonder whether swine flu is grade specific? and other worries

With the swine flu still roaming the country and school term looming ahead - in a good way clearly as only a fool thinks that 3 months school holiday is a sensible thing for the sanity of a grown up - a question springs to mind about whether this particular evil strain of flu is grade specific ? is it bad form one wonders to send a grade 3 child in to school if ones 4th or 5th grader has it - in sunny CT it seems that it is. Our intrepid reporter has heard that prior to the oh so long school break, some yummy mummies were finding the quarantine idea a tad too tricky to comprehend. Lets hope over the summer the flu has addled their minds in good way so on our return to campus we will not be fending off a new bout of this particular lurgy.

On a lighter note we also hear that a Mexican dress up night is being prepared - this surely can only be the work of a Brit who's strong sense of sarcasm & irony has been honed over the years - the families offspring having been tested positive for swine flu at the beginning of the scare....

The one in which we wonder whether it is bad form to introduce oneself to the staff?

At a recent play date/party our intrepid reporter was flummoxed by the number of staff she had to plough her way through prior to accessing the hostess of the party itself. Now I know we have landed in Stepford, but surely when throwing a party the host still awaits at the entrance to the event, ensuring the age old etiquette of actually being present when guests arrive. Not so in this case it seems, as we are finding it is de rigueur to employ (even in times of recession) a cluster of staff or maybe even an entourage to keep themselves from reality. Having waded through the first 3 introductions our Broad had managed to ingratiate herself with a cook a nanny and a personal assistant before alighting on the jewel in the crown - the hostess in the flesh. But on reflection there may be a lot to be said for an entourage, having been an avid fan of the Emmy award winning HBO series with Vince & Ari displaying the spoils of today's success - a seemingly endless array of fawning sycophants... perhaps my buddy and I are simply missing the point and should embrace the new age of staff abundance in the spirit that it is displayed. Applications for boot licking toady's gratefully accepted herewith...

Notes from a Broad in NY

Welcome to our new blog - a couple of city chicks laying low in the confines of the countryside of New York, with a rag tag of pesky kids to bring up - our hearts belong to Bond Street and 5th Avenue but our butts are stuck in domestic bliss in a place not far from Stepford. With a slew of ex pat friends coming and going we are here to give you the lo down on how to hack it in the burbs and how ex pat life is survivable if you keep a tight grasp of your dramatic irony and smile nicely at the onslaught ahead of you....