On Progress (Or, Technology, how I love you so)

Like most people, I have a love-hate relationship with technology because I rely on it about as much as I needed my mother when I was three, and when technology fails me, it brings out that three-year-old tantrum instinct I'd so well suppressed for over 40 years. But computer and application problems aside, I LOVE TECHNOLOGY.

First of all, technology feeds my passion for nostalgia by exaggerating the differences between then and now. I mean, how else would I mourn the loss of letter-writing if it weren't for word processors? Paradoxically, it is those exact processing programs that make it easier for me to write  type letters to my friends, which they can receive in the time it takes technology to deliver my letter to their email inbox.

Which brings me to email (so old hat already that we've dropped the hyphen between "e" and "mail" and made it one word functioning as noun, address, and verb all in one). Though I yearn for the days of receiving a handwritten letter in my real mailbox (which now only receives bills and even that trend is fading), I love how connected I am with friends all over the world. It is truly priceless.

But email was only the beginning. I started using email about 1995 and now love my Skype account even more. This again feeds my nostalgia, for when I was a youngster - back when Elvis Presley and John Lennon were still alive and before President Reagan was shot - speaking with a friend who lived more than thirty miles away constituted a long-distance phone call which cost MONEY. And spending money on phone calls was a big-ass deal. Now, with Skype, I can not only chat instantly with friends everywhere, but I can summon the spirit of Dick Tracy by seeing them in a live video chat and even share a glass of wine with them while we shoot the shinola...for free.

Now, I'm sure there are those of you out there saying, Get over it, Wendy. But you have to know that I am still amazed by the technology of landline telephones, so email and Skype go on my list of technological wonders of my time. I also like to think of myself as one who appreciates the beauty of humankind's ingenuity, and our desire to improve communication and to connect with each other is inspiring. Many complain that this new technology alienates us from socializing like we did in the good ole days, but I argue that it actually brings us closer together. And in a world where nations are still killing each other over religion and money, it's nice to know the human desire to connect with others still lives on. There are people in my life today who I never would have dreamed of seeing again if it hadn't been for technological progress, and I love having these people in my life.

So here's a toast to all the nameless inventors who have helped me preserve my relationships with distant friends and who've made it possible for me to renew old friendships I'd thought lost forever. You are my People of the Year!

On Facebook Birthdays (Or, 190 friends? How did that happen?)

Today (November 16) has been a glorious day, and not only because I celebrated completing another year of life. First, I received my annual phone call from my dear friend in Germany. Even though he was out of town on business and had to search desperately for somewhere to plug in where he was staying, he called me at 7pm my time, which is 1am his time. He'd been stuck in meetings all day and confessed to being a little drunk, and I love him for it.

Second, I received no fewer than 54 birthday wishes from Facebook friends - enough to keep me occupied all morning as little red flag announcements popped up in my FB bar minute by minute. It was great to receive good wishes from people who normally would have had no clue it was my birthday (and who probably wouldn't have cared for not knowing).  But as my profile page was filled with wall posts, it occurred to me...what about the other 136 friends in my list?

According to FB, I've got 190 friends, only 54 of whom cared enough to write a short message of happiness on my birthday wall, apparently. And that's just fine with me. Honestly, 54 is five times what I need. If I'd received 190 birthday messages, I might have found myself wishing I hadn't reached this annual milestone. So how did I end up with 190? Here's where Facebook annoys me.

When I first joined, back in 2008, I was very particular about who I requested friendship from and more particular about who I accepted if from. But just like in high school, where peer pressure forced us to sometimes hang with kids we didn't want to hang with, I've accumulated about 100 more FB friends than I care to have. (Not naming names here, of course.) I know how callous I sound, and I'm aware I may lose some FB friends in the wake of this post, but the good news is that any of you reading this are NOT part of the 100 or so I don't care about.

Conceptually, Facebook is a brilliant idea that has mostly been the funnest (yeah, I said "funnest") thing to come along since roller skates. I've loved reconnecting with people I thought I'd never hear from again, and more importantly, I love how connected I am to my overseas and out-of-state friends. For that, I thank the Facebook team almost every day. And as I stayed home today determined to write at least 1000 words, I didn't mind not accomplishing my task since I was busy chatting with FB friends in live chats or speaking to others on Skype (another worldly wonder).

Now, as I prepare to end my birthday, I will put my nasty attitude to rest and instead focus on the blessing of those friends who remembered me on my special day. My life is good and my true friendships - real and virtual - are beautiful. After dinner, I cracked open my Pei Wei fortune cookie and read, "Your life is a dashing and bold adventure." If the cookie says so, it must be true, and my friends are an integral part of it.

On Thinking out of the Box (Or, A Balmy Winter in Sweden)

Almost a lifetime ago (make that 19 years ago), I ventured out on what would be my first of two overseas living experiences. I started in Seville, Spain and immediately fell in love…with life. (Well, sure, men were involved, but in the scheme of things it was Life that won my heart.) Then I found myself in Bologna, Italy, where my desire to live abroad was cemented in my soul. Except that life has a funny way of putting you exactly where you need to be, and apparently I need to stay in the U.S., where the educational system better suits one of my children’s special needs.

That being said, my husband and I still fantasized regularly about our next foreign sojourn, but the conversation always ended with, “When the kids go to college.” Well, I did not have that kind of patience. So I decided to live in the now and make my next home in Sweden, where I have two dear friends and a few more acquaintances (carry-overs from my years in Europe).

But I had to think out of the box to make this happen.

Rather ingeniously (if I don’t say so myself), I came up with a solution. The kids would be thrilled with their new bedrooms (though the space would be much smaller, as European scale often is). They would get a fair sampling of authentic Swedish cuisine (whether they liked it or not). And I would finally have the sleek kitchen and Scandinavian-designed home I’d always wanted. My kids could continue in their same schools. And they could still visit their local grandparents. All this without traveling more than 10 miles from my South Florida home. How did I make this happen, you ask?

It’s a little Swedish village called Ikea.

Here’s a picture of my living room, where we entertain our Swedish friends and all our other overseas friends via live Skype chats. (My narrow-minded American friends won’t come over because they think it’s weird that I live in Ikea.)

Here’s my eat-in kitchen, where I fight each night with the kids over why they should eat their pickled herring, meatballs with lingonberry jam, rose hip soup, and of course their turnips, but then end up ordering Domino’s Pizza…because we can. (Though Ikea frowns upon outside catering, since they provide their own Swedish market right on the premises.)

Here I am making my daughter’s bed. Apparently, her laziness carries overseas.

And this is my son's idea of how to make his bed…

My favorite part is the home office. In this immaculately organized space, I can write my blog entries and my next great novel, An American Almost in Sweden.

And my reading room, where I spend time reading the BEST NOVEL EVER WRITTEN!

All this for free! Of course, I have no sex life because of all the security cameras (and we think the U.S. Department of Homeland Security is invasive), and privacy does not exist in Sweden, as evidenced below.

But all in all, I tell you this is the life here in South Florida, Sweden. And I don’t even have to take vitamin D supplements to survive the winter. Now, let’s see how long it takes Ikea’s security to kick us outta here and turn us into homeless Swedes...I mean Floridians.

Until then, vi ses nästa vecka, och undvika matjessill om du kan! (See you next week, and avoid the pickled herring if you can!)