when the internet hurts our feelings.
we never outgrow the fear of feeling small + a 2004 flashback.
Here were are.
We made it.
We made it out of January and lived to tell the tale.
So, how did your first month of the new year go? Quiet? Long? Listless? Mine too. But that’s alright. I had lots of soup, the Christmas lights are still up and my cat continues to make me jealous by sleeping all day. As I wait for my manuscript to come back from my editor, I’ve been keeping busy polishing up neglected social media accounts and cleaning out cluttered rooms and corners. Also, I’ve been catching up on my reading starting with one of my Christmas presents: Welcome to the O.C., which presents an oral history of the 2003 teen drama.
In 2003, I was just starting my 20s and didn’t have a television in my Silver Lake studio but —and this is where it gets interesting…well, for me at least— I was an extra for most of season 1 of this show. So that, plus the fact that my next novel takes place in 2004, it made for an irresistible read in my endless yet gratifying quest for detailed storytelling.
It’s been a fun read, as I try to read between the lines because you know there had to be some behind-the-scenes gossip that they’re being too polite to divulge (or maybe that’s just the author in me digging for dirt) and it’s since inspired me to watch the series as I read along. In the spirit of 2004, I decided to not binge, allowing the episodes room to breathe inside my head for a day or so before moving on.
Some observations: Okay, so as an extra, I assumed the show was popular from things like the craft service was really good, as were the clothes and makeup, and we were served catered hot lunch versus some of the banged-up shows I’d worked on that offered what they call “walk-away” lunch where you leave the set for lunch with the only nearby choices usually being Jack in the Box or Carl’s Jr. Also, the crew and actors seemed happy to be at work because I’d worked on some shows where you can tell everyone thought the show was lame and it made for some interesting ambiance.
But now experiencing the show as a viewer, I can see why it was so popular. Being a teen drama graduate from the era of 90210, Dawson, and my personal fave Felicity, I didn’t really know what the competition was in 2003 but watching it now, The O.C. had to be counterculture to whatever else was going on. Just had to be. I mean, our lead hunk listens to Death Cab and wears Los Globos t-shirts (this night club walking distance from my old apartment). Like, what? (I know, I know, I’m 20 years late to this analysis but again, I didn’t have a TV then, so this excites my 40-something brain that swears it’s still 20-something.)
Another observation is my unexpected delight in not hearing the characters say “Let me look it up” while reaching for their phones since there’s barely a phone to be seen. And even though the internet existed (what’s up Friendster and AOL chat rooms), I’m reminded that once upon a time our interactions were confined to actual physical space where facial expressions, words and tactile exchanges were the foundation of our relationships. Unlike today’s infinite connection where the opinions of faceless strangers can wound and friendships border on frenemies with social etiquette taking strange detours as we question what’s normal or not. On The O.C. no one notices Here were are.
We made it.
We made it out of January and lived to tell the tale.
So, how did your first month of the new year go? Quiet? Long? Listless? Mine too. But that’s alright. I had lots of soup, the Christmas lights are still up and my cat continues to make me jealous by sleeping all day. As I wait for my manuscript to come back from my editor, I’ve been keeping busy polishing up neglected social media accounts and cleaning out cluttered rooms and corners. Also, I’ve been catching up on my reading starting with one of my Christmas presents: Welcome to the O.C., which presents an oral history of the 2003 teen drama.
In 2003, I was just starting my 20s and didn’t have a television in my Silver Lake studio but —and this is where it gets interesting…well, for me at least— I was an extra for most of season 1 of this show. So that, plus the fact that my next novel takes place in 2004, it made for an irresistible read in my endless yet gratifying quest for detailed storytelling.
It’s been a fun read, as I try to read between the lines because you know there had to be some behind-the-scenes gossip that they’re being too polite to divulge (or maybe that’s just the author in me digging for dirt) and it’s since inspired me to watch the series as I read along. In the spirit of 2004, I decided to not binge, allowing the episodes room to breathe inside my head for a day or so before moving on.
Some observations: Okay, so as an extra, I assumed the show was popular from things like the craft service was really good, as were the clothes and makeup, and we were served catered hot lunch versus some of the banged-up shows I’d worked on that offered what they call “walk-away” lunch where you leave the set for lunch with the only nearby choices usually being Jack in the Box or Carl’s Jr. Also, the crew and actors seemed happy to be at work because I’d worked on some shows where you can tell everyone thought the show was lame and it made for some interesting ambiance.
But now experiencing the show as a viewer, I can see why it was so popular. Being a teen drama graduate from the era of 90210, Dawson, and my personal fave Felicity, I didn’t really know what the competition was in 2003 but watching it now, The O.C. had to be counterculture to whatever else was going on. Just had to be. I mean, our lead hunk listens to Death Cab and wears Los Globos t-shirts (this night club walking distance from my old apartment). Like, what? (I know, I know, I’m 20 years late to this analysis but again, I didn’t have a TV then, so this excites my 40-something brain that swears it’s still a 20-something.)
Another observation is my unexpected delight in not hearing the characters say “Let me look it up” while reaching for their phones since there’s barely a phone to be seen. And even though the internet existed (what’s up Friendster and AOL chat rooms), I’m reminded that once upon a time our interactions were confined to actual physical space where facial expressions, words and tactile exchanges were the foundation of our relationships. Unlike today’s infinite connection where the opinions of faceless strangers can wound and friendships border on frenemies with social etiquette taking strange detours as we question what’s normal or not. On The O.C. no one is noticing good friends looking at their stories and not commenting. Nor are they confronted with photos of parties they weren’t invited to. Or selectively liking some photos and purposefully not the others for some fucked-up deep-seated internal reason. They’re just being. And I know we can say this about pretty much every show before Gossip Girl but this is the only one I’m watching, so it’s the winner in my back-in-the-day post, which is obviously making me look very old.
That’s fine.
I do wonder how our 2004 selves would react if we told them about our social evolution. I don’t think we’d believe it. Or at least we wouldn’t believe that a digital correspondence would hold just as much, if not more weight than our real ones. I mean, at the end of the day it’s up to us to decide how much the digital world impacts us, but does that make our feelings digital?
I’m not trying to be existential here, but I do think about this stuff and I don’t think I’m alone, because I really do believe that a part of us will always be that kid in the cafeteria with their lunch tray. We never outgrow the fear of feeling small.
God, I remember the first time the internet hurt my feelings. I felt like my entire chest was in flames. I was 23 (no longer doing extra work, which felt like a win) and my freshly ex-boyfriend started dating someone else…weeks after my father died. This was on Myspace and I’ll never forget the shock of feeling so unsafe in my own apartment. I remember looking around like there was nowhere to go because it was so unexpected since that was something I was supposed to find out in person not in the confines of my own home. But there I was at my kitchen table I found on the street with a picture of them looking back at me as I slammed my laptop closed and practically hid under the table.
These days it’s like we’re used to it. Some people say, we’ve gotten softer as a society and in ways, that could be true. But I also think we’ve become a little tougher as we brush off slights that we tell ourselves weren’t supposed to notice in the first place. I don’t know what solution is other than read more books, listen to more music, make plans, talk more….get outside?
I really don’t have an answer, just another untidy thought.
Happy February and thanks for reading.
Lisa
Ps: It’s been fun catching myself in a few shots from the show, so in case you were curious, here are a few Academy Award winning moments I managed to capture (because that’s how fast I go by).
