Seeking some self-improvement in her life, journo, consultant, blogger and mentor, Chantelle Fiddy (tries to) find a life. This month: Social networking reality check…

I’ve been doing so well. Since attempting to find a life I’ve tried loads of new restaurants, hammered my books, varied my musical repertoire accordingly, cut off my hair more than once and even baked a batch of Red Velvet cupcakes. Wonders never cease..

Undoubtedly, social networking has aided my new life, but I’m also beginning to wonder if this age of technology – or chaos perhaps – has got me (well us) in so deep we’re drowning. With MySpace pretty much good for one thing now (listening to new music, in case you’re seriously late) and Facebook for the voyeur who wants to see how many old school friends are up the duff, Twitter is something of a revelation.

For those too busy to pluck their bikini line or wash a weeks worth of dishes, even a quick trip to the toilet is ample time to buck up the Blackberry and type 140

characters of status update. But some people are all too quick to hit up the qwerty pad. Having quickly clocked that Twitter could easily take over my very existence, I’ve come over all Lil Kim like, and penned some commandments. These won’t necessarily help you keep your man but they’ll hopefully allow you to retain some dignity. Probably.

Informer: Everyone’s got an opinion. Yes, like your arsehole, we don’t all need to see it (especially if it’s homophobic, racist, illiterate or just boring).

Beg Friend: Don’t ask people to follow you. Begging friend is as bad as chirpsing your brother’s girl. If you gotta do it, do it in private.

Pinnochio Fi Life: Make shit up. Your life is boring. My life is boring 90% of the time too. Pretend you just saw Westwood in M&S buying carnations, tell us you’ve booked a holiday to Gaza… No one said you had to be that real.

21 Seconds To Blow: Remember the words of So Solid; “Sooo many haters.” Imagine you’re Megaman; bun the idiots under your breath, lean back and count your stash.

Karma No Sutra: Do not see Twitter as another opportunity to hide behind your screen, sending subliminals for swag DJs who didn’t play your (ever swagger) tune.

Are U Gonna Bang Does: Don’t follow your ex. You don’t need to know if they’re on a lipsing ting. And if you clock people you follow getting fresh with the poomplex, delete them quicker than that midget porn you forgot you’d downloaded on momzie’s laptop.

If you already find yourself thinking in Twitter status updates, then chances are you’re so far gone you need to be searching for some serious release. That or a real life.

Follow me, I beg you: twitter.com/chantellefiddy

Chantelle edits ctrlaltshift.co.uk and chantellefiddy.blogspot.com

Seeking some self-improvement in her life, journo, consultant, blogger and mentor, Chantelle Fiddy (tries to) find a life. This month: Meet A Psychic…

When you tell some people you’re going to see a psychic they totally freak out, shouting about voodoo curses and other madness. But I made the decision to try something that had always fascinated me, despite being a little apprehensive: I didn’t want to be disappointed by getting lumbered with a fraud. I’d also heard about psychics who were, let’s say, a little too real. Some things just shouldn’t be spoken about.

With that in mind, I waited until a good recommendation came via Mumsy dearest and she made the connection. The lady psychic in question lived in a non-descript house in Norfolk. A Londoner for most of her life, she was a cross between Pat Butcher and Dot Cotton (except she used words like ‘piss’ and ‘bastard’). Taking my watch in her hand she started by telling me my uncle was laughing at how many notes I’d be likely to take. “He had a bad heart… wasn’t that old…” My uncle had actually passed away just a few days before and matched the description. Beginners luck perhaps.

“You’re surrounded by words and graphics but you don’t like it when people mess with your work.” Damn right, that’s a straight parrrrr. Given she didn’t know my name let alone anything about me, I’m baffed that she’s clocked I’m a journalist.

As our hour together continues we cover ex-boyfriends, a potential stalker I apparently escaped, more dead relatives, friends, Martine McCutcheon (“I don’t know why but she keeps coming up”), my good ear for music (“when you hear a track and get that gut feeling, trust your judgment. You have a very good ear for music and don’t get it wrong…”) and some stuff that’s so deep I can’t even repeat it. Put it this way, my girl knew things. I mean THINGS.

On leaving, I became oh so slightly emotional, shedding a few tears strictly for good (i.e. typical female) measure. Immediately I wanted to go back and ask loads of things I’d forgotten to cover (we didn’t talk much about the future), but I’d had my shot. While I’m glad I ventured into the unknown, I’m going to try and leave the rest to chance. Given my obsession with coma’s, getting hit by cars or crossing between any sort of parked vehicle for fear of a bomb going off, I don’t want to tempt fate.

Chantellefiddy.blogspot.com Chantelle edits Ctrlaltshift.co.uk

Seeking some self-improvement in her life, journo, consultant, blogger and mentor, Chantelle Fiddy (tries to) find a life. Activist Raving…

It’s definitely become cooler to be an ‘activist’ since the G20 protests and the financial crisis, which has left people feeling it’s very much ‘us’ against ‘them’ – whether that’s the government, police or the banks. Sounds political. Well it is. But imagine if you could be a legal rebel, an activist, and achieve the feat by raving? Well you can.

A few weeks back Ctrl.Alt.Shift,  alongside our partners Riz Ahmed and British Underground, created United Underground, an event which bought the knowledge  to the Southbank Centre. United Underground shook up south London with a line-up which alternated the likes of Bashy, Afrikan Boy and Mpho with speakers including Noel Clarke, Reprieve (who campaign against the use of music as a form of torture, a technique used at Guantanamo Bay), gay rights activists from Baghdad and director Peter Kozminsky.

“We wanted to put on something that brings in a crowd who might not normally go there, and inject the amazing spaces with a fresh underground energy,” explains Riz (who played Shifty, in the film described as the new Lock Stock..). “The event is about re-connecting music, and other arts forms to activism in a way that is bold and doesn’t feel stale or swept under the carpet.”

And we didn’t just focus on the obvious. As a salute to club culture, United Underground booked promoters Urban Nerds, ManMakeMusic and Dirty Canvas to show the 1,000 strong crowd how they get down. Artist Sarah Maple was so into it she even created bespoke artwork for the flyer. Also making their mark were the Craftivists – a group who get their point across via sewing, cutting and pasting. I decided to make my mark by taking up the challenge to produce a 12-page fanzine live on the night. Admittedly I got the cover printed in advance, but thanks to volunteers, up and coming writers and my Ctrl.Alt.Shift hacks, we manage to give away a souvenir of the event.

With the event a sell-out, and the warm-up event, Writing On The Wall, also proving a success with 10 artists creating pieces around corruption in just a few hours, here’s hoping this groundbreaking combination is the first of many.

Chantellefiddy.blogspot.com, See the videos at RWDmag.com

Ctrlaltshift.co.uk for more info on United Underground events.

Seeking some self-improvement in her life, journo, consultant, blogger and mentor, Chantelle Fiddy (tries to) find a life. This month:  Park Life

Life isn’t all about being able to buy out the bar, wear the latest garms and having enough P to treat your better half to something more superior than a junior spesh. It’s about fun. Something I, quite frankly, don’t have enough of.  Admittedly, I rely primarily on amusing myself. My failure to clock that I’m the only one laughing at my jokes is a never ending saga. Sadly, Twitter has allowed me to further negate actually getting a life by playing out my mundane experiences in (what I deem to be) a rather amusing manner.

But a great group of people – the team over at LIVE Magazine -  took it upon themselves to change my fate when I announced I was stepping down from my post as senior editorial mentor to further my own balling status. Deciding to give me a suitable send-off, before I knew it, I’d agreed to go on a semi-blind date. Note, I say semi… There was no way Fiddy was gonna hook up with any wasteguy. But with DJ Deadout kicked to the kerb, and I discovered it would be delectable comedian Mr Eddie Kadi, I was in!

Given I haven’t had a date in a bloody long time – of course due to work commitments and nothing to do with a broken heart/ no one being interested – I was on this ting. And this was to be no ordinary date. We were getting our roller skates on in Hyde Park.

Though I was fashionably late and Eddie tried to screwface me for a hot minute, as soon as I complimented him on having great skin, he was like putty in my hands. Having tooled ourselves up with the skates, kneepads and helmets, any chance of appearing cool was dead like the Wiley and Lethal saga. When Eddie then presented me with a bumper tray of Ferrero Rocher I nearly cried right there.

Once we got on our wheels, I quickly realised that while Eddie can hold great conversation and make a girl laugh like it’s nothing, I was the better skater. As I side surfed, the love I felt from Eddie was increasingly more than alot. After losing the photographer, we kicked back and discussed a second date – horse riding. I believe that if I do a Lady Godiva, I think I might find my Ginuwine, Pony style. Swooooon.

Chantellefiddy.blogspot.com. Read about the date in LIVE, Live-magazine.co.uk. Get tickets for Eddie Kadi at the Indigo o2 on 15th August at Eddiekadi.com