Gossiping is something that many like to believe is restricted to fourteen year old giggling girls in school playgrounds, but unfortunately it is something that will probably always exist. After all, it is said that 50% of the time people leave their job because of the gossiping and bullying that takes place within their workplace (I do not at present have a source to back this up with but it is definitely something I have read before!).
Sometimes I like to believe that I am above gossiping, that I am not drawn in by such things, but then suddenly, like yesterday for instance, I was on facebook with a friend and we suddenly discover that one of our facebook friends is no longer in a relationship and we are thrown into a search for clues as to why they broke up. Facebook really does make stalking and the spreading of gossip rather easy - you no longer need to actually meet up with people to know their life story. Obviously, if they were an actual friend you would probably already know that they had split from their long-term boyfriend, but since they were more of a past acquaintance, in this case we did not. Taking pleasure in someone else's misery is not an attractive quality or one that I wish to possess (although in German they actually have a word for this - 'Schadenfreud') but there was definitely some joint excitement in the stalking of their profile to find out when and how they broke up. We discovered that all traces of the ex-boyfriend had been removed, as if the relationship had never occurred. The reason for the breakup was, unfortunately, not discovered.
The problem with gossip is that you never know how far it will spread, and whether that 'hilarious' comment you made to a friend will end up being leaked back to the person it was in reference too. Safer to stick to comments such as 'Mm hmm' and 'Yes I see your point' when involved in such situations. The key, as always, is to be un-quotable.
I have found my parents (well my mother) to be just as bad when it comes to gossiping. Just now she had our new neighbour, Dougal (what a name), over to see our house. I think the main purpose of the visit was for my mum to show him the 'amazing' things she had done with the house, and perhaps recommend how he should change his. Whilst walking past a window, my mother takes it upon herself to warn him about the old lady walking past - apparently she "is not quite all there, and nor is her daughter". Dougal seems to take this advice on board.
In other news, I have achieved very little today. In fact, the highlight of my day would be managing to post a phone charger. I had put it in a parcel, worked out the postage and was all ready to post it but when I arrived at the post box it would not fit through. I was deeply annoyed (to say the least) as since my local post office closed, my closest option was travelling to town - either £2.90 on the bus or a 6 mile round bike ride. I decided instead to hatch a sneaky plan. I returned the the post box just before 5pm (the last collection time) and hid around the corner, clutching my package to my chest, and waited for the postman to arrive to collect the post. Bang on 5pm he pulls up in his van, so I strolled casually around the corner, proclaiming loudly "Oh no, I just caught you! Can you please take this one too?", avoiding the need to fit it through the post box slot. Luckily he fell for it. Either that or he saw me hovering round the corner like a loser and took pity on me and my sham of a cover story.
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