As I updated my status this weekend and checked into a local restaurant, I got to thinking, “What happened before social media”?

I am now quite addicted to checking my Twitter feed and browsing my friend’s pictures on Facebook.  On weekends when I am sitting at home I can inflate my self-importance by knowing that others are interested in sending me online messages and “liking” my updates.  My social life is  listed on my ICal and events feeds, so how did I survive before I had an IPhone?

Years ago, I used to station myself on my parent’s telephone table in the hallway of our house, I dialled and spent an hour on the phone to my friends as my Dad made frantic gestures about his phone bill.

I would spend weekends writing letters to my relatives about what I had done with my life in the last month, instead of tap out a quick email as I catch up on Corrie.

I was a member of the local Youth Club and my Mum would ferry me around in her Ford Escort, so I could catch up with my friends.  I also made other friendships by chatting to people face to face, instead of wondering why “Jim Smith” is still clogging up my Facebook feed when I met him on a holiday six years ago?  

Every Saturday lunchtime I would arrange to meet my peers in Bristol town centre to go for a Wimpy burger and a gossip.  Heaven help you if your bus was ever late, as I did not have a mobile phone, so there was no way of rearranging.  Instead, I would have to walk around Bristol City Centre hoping I could second guess where they were, wandering the racks of Miss Selfridge hoping to spot the girls gathered around the latest Twilight Teaser lipstick.  I carried a notebook to write down telephone numbers and often had to call home from a payphone and reverse the charges due to missing the last bus.  How easy it now is to send a text.  Although, saying that, if I was texting my Dad to pick me up, I think he might be a bit miffed!

So, as I pick up my phone to answer my emails, text and post a pic to Twitter, I remember the days queued up in the pouring rain with a 10 pence piece hoping someone at home would hear the phone ring.