I love any kind of information technology.

Despite the myth that women don’t understand a thing about IT, I know a lot of women who, like me, embrace any new-fangled gadget and are eager to try out anything high-tech that comes our way.

Another myth is that these new ways of communicating are the domain of the young, or that they should be. Why? Why does getting older mean you have to become a boring fuddy-duddy who becomes hysterically alarmed and cluck-clucks disapprovingly at anything “new”?

It’s like parents who freak out at the thought of their teenagers frequenting “that den of debauchery” known as Paceville. Have we forgotten that clubs, drinking, smoking, under age sex and drugs have been around in Malta for at least 40 years? The only difference is that the age at which teenagers are being exposed to all this has become younger. Paceville and the “going out” culture are a phase, best experienced when you are between 18 – 25, and everyone needs to go through it so that they can get it out of their system. (And if you don’t experience it when you’re young you will be tempted to try and recapture your lost youth when you hit a mid-life crisis. Believe me folks, that ain’t a pretty sight).

My mobile is my friend

But back to technology.

Chronologically, I’m certainly not young, but in my head I am – I still get a little shock when I meet people in their late 20s and realise that I’m old enough to be their mother.

However, I refuse to fall into the category of those who yearn for the past, or are terminally stuck there, lamenting about what they lived through or what they should or should not have done. What a waste of energy. (Which is why that sad little group of people gnashing their teeth about the “terror” they lived through in the 80s has, in my opinion, turned into something of a weird cult, with one trying to outdo the other about how much tear gas they had to swallow.)

As for the future, it’s out of my hands, so I don’t mull over it. I live in the now, which is why I love concepts such as push e-mail to my phone. Admittedly, and sheepishly, I have to admit that my mobile phone has become a part of me – it’s like it has become surgically attached to the palm of my hand. I find myself reaching for my phone and any potential messages first thing in the morning and last thing at night (this is verging on an obsession and I freely admit it: “My name is Josanne and I’m a mobile-aholic”).

Of course, receiving work-related e-mails to your phone also means you are never quite away from the office, but there is a silver lining – you won’t have tons of e-mails to plough through the next day and you will have already dealt with the more urgent ones. And Monday morning no longer holds as many nasty surprises when someone complains that you left out their press release (you get them on Saturday and Sunday instead).

Ah, progress!

One day this summer while my girlfriends and I were idly chatting at the beach, we tried to remember just how long ago mobiles were introduced. Trying to pinpoint the exact year was not easy, so we tried to gauge it according to what we were doing at that point in our lives – the younger women were still at school. I seem to remember that I had just changed jobs. As we could not agree (“could it be that long ago? Impossible!”), we decided that we would google it later (the year turned out to be 1989).

How did we used to get along without mobiles we wondered, trying to imagine those “prehistoric” days when if someone phoned you at home and you were out, you would never, ever know. (All those missed potential dates!)

Then we laughed ourselves silly recalling those first ads for Telecell – the ones with an older man pausing from playing a spot of golf to hold what now seems like a gigantic contraption to his ear, as a new mother (presumably his daughter) announces from her hospital bed “it’s a boy”. I also remember that they were incredibly expensive, something like Lm400, which meant that anyone who could afford a mobile went around with it ostentatiously – it really was a status symbol. The rest of us figured we could do something much more sensible with that kind of money.

As the prices of mobiles started tumbling, more people could afford it. It was 10 years ago when I joined The Malta Independent as a full timer (up to then I had been a freelance contributor) that I thought it was about time I bought myself a mobile phone. I’ve been hooked ever since.

I find it fascinating when I see little old ladies doing the shopping dressed in their paisley prints; fishing out their sturdy little Nukes from their handbags to take a call (this model is a favourite with this age group because they are so user-friendly). Who would have thought huh?

On the other hand, to this day I cannot understand why people who have a mobile don’t (a) bother to use it or (b) answer their text messages. The obvious answer is to save money on their mobile bill, but honestly, if you are so stingy why have one in the first place?

This doesn’t explain why such rudeness happens as well on e-mail. Granted, my job entails me sitting in front of a monitor for over eight hours almost every day, so I’m constantly aware of e-mails pinging into my inbox. I’m so conscientious (or should that be anal?) that I answer every single one. This always takes people by pleasant surprise (“thank you so much for your prompt reply!”) and I understand why – of all the e-mails I send myself, many of them are never replied to. Then I phone or meet the person and ask them, “did you get my e-mail”, and they nonchalantly reply, “oh yes, I did”. (Ever think of answering it, I ask inwardly, grinding my teeth.)

Face off

Dire Straits used to sing “I want my MTV”, well I kind of feel the same about Facebook.

This pop culture phenomenon has revolutionised the way we communicate about ourselves and to each other. Like most trends, it caught on at breakneck speed, and the phrase “are you on Facebook?” soon replaced “do you have e-mail?” or the now defunct “do you have a mobile?” (mhux ovvja! Everyone has a mobile!).

In my work, I am constantly trying to contact people, and with everyone changing jobs at the drop of a hat, as well as changing their e-mail addresses and mobile numbers, it is easy to lose track of them. I’ve solved the problem with Facebook, because it is the best networking tool I have come across in years. Even if you don’t trace the person you need, you can always send a message to a mutual “friend” and the contact is made.

As a social network, Facebook is also useful – I found out that a friend had her baby through the messages of congratulations that popped up on the news feed. So, what’s wrong with that – it’s just another way of communicating. It also has its amusement value – I enjoy reading people’s “status” and when I put in something like “Josanne is feeling…yelch!” it’s rather nice to get messages of solicitous concern.

Of course, it can also be used for all sorts of other, more devious reasons, but so can e-mail, MSN, Hi-5, ICQ, Mirc, Skype, YouTube and of course, your mobile. In other words, if you are looking for “action”, Facebook and all the other technological tools have just made it simpler to find it.

I find it no different to men or women who try to flirt at work – it can be harmless enough, just a little flirting where no one gets hurt, or it can be taken further, depending on what each person is looking for. Just like with Facebook, in real life you can reveal almost everything about your personal life if you want to, but if you draw a line and make sure the other person is aware of that line, then there’s nothing to discuss. It’s when people start blurring the line and start delving into private territory that mixed signals start getting sent.

Cyber space should not be blamed if people are fooling around on their other half. What you have to ask is what is driving a person to reach out to others in the first place, and whether their time spent logged on with their virtual friends is more gratifying than the time they spend with the man or woman they live with.

Give us all a break

You will have noticed that I have avoided the subject of politics this week. This was deliberate. It’s not because there isn’t anything to say, on the contrary. But I’m bored with the whole political landscape at the moment. Bored with broken promises and bored by the rhetoric that treats us voters like morons. I’m sick and tired of the two weights and two measures yardstick, which treat Nationalist and Labour decisions differently. I’m filled with ennui at the thought of four-and-a-half more years of Joseph Muscat-bashing, so that by the time the 2013 election rolls around, we will have a repeat of the “are you seriously going to vote for that ridiculous man?” hysterical PN hype.

And when I’m bored I turn to other areas for diversion.

See you on Facebook.

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