I’ve been a horrible slacker and still owe Nick several meals for this awesome site. In the minute or two it took me to start this blog I’ve effectively checked my Facebook several times (in hope someone commented me in the 8 hours I’ve been asleep on something…anything) and checked my phone about 4 times (as if someone is at up at 8:30 am is frantically trying to contact me). In a few unfortunate hours I will be using the ever reliable New York City Transit where I will find a multitude of annoying commuters chatting, texting, AIMing, Facebooking, and generally cell-phoning away. Even when I go to lecture, any lecture, I will find about 80% of the kids with their cellphones on their laps or desks, compulsively checking it every five minutes. The other 20% will be on their laptops checking Facebook. And inevitably, almost without fail, someone’s phone will ring, exposing their ridiculous ringtone and pissing off everyone, as if no one, ever, has been guilty of forgetting to turn off their phone.
I’ve been guilty of the aforementioned crimes myself. If I am without my phone, I feel naked and alone. And being away from my Mac for more than a few hours, is like being torn away from my firstborn child. Don’t ask how I know that feeling, but I’m sure that’s exactly what it feels like. I won’t even mention the ridiculousness of the fact that all these people, somehow find conversation companions at even 8 in the freakin morning.
Of course, technology is the mechanism of progress. There’s no denying its functionality, the necessity for evolution as the few organisms on this planet capable of not only using tools but constantly improving them to serve our lives better. Live for a few days without a microwave and breakfast suddenly takes 30 minutes to make instead of 3. Try to write a paper using only a pen a pad. By page 5 out of 10 you will probably be stricken with a painful case of carpal tunnel. But technology has devolved some really important human characteristics. I’m by no means going on a technology-is-evil rant, but I think our society has somewhat been over-indulgent in its use.
Case in point: you’re out with a friend, you’re eating somewhere, your blackberry is on the table, their Razr too (or strapped and securely on vibrate to their belt, if they’re russian). As soon as there’s a lull in conversation or a waiting period of 3 seconds, or that ever soothing ring tone is heard, both parties’ hands are automatically on the phone. And it’s fine. But it’s really not. Unless you’re the only doctor in the tristate area and are on-call, there are statistically very few situations that would require you to pay immediate attention to your cellular device at the expense of real person to person interaction. Think about the last time you called your friend rather than texting them (while doing something else non the less, like sitting in class). Yeah, yeah, for little things it’s easier to text someone than to call them and god forbid have a real fucking conversation, and have to have things to say.
I think we’re running the danger of having nothing to say that can’t be fit into 200 characters. We’ve become masters of packaging our thoughts and editing them on an inch-wide screen. And also masters in analyzing the content of several words. Why wasn’t there an exclamation point after that? Does it mean she’s not happy to see me? We’ve completely become selfish with our phones constantly at our ears or fingers. There’s little common etiquette in having private conversations in public places. And there’s also something very solitary in that. It’s like saying “I’m in a world that I don’t want you to be part of, but I’ll allow you the gift of overhearing it.” And at dinner with your friend, you’re saying that you kind of want to see them, but their presence alone is not enough for you to let them into your digital world anyway. Where did the switch occur where we began to feel loved not when a person sent us a card or hugged us, but when they sent a meaningless, poorly punctuated text about something or other? And how do we stop it?
This list of scenarios could go on, with all of its possible implications on communication and social relationships, but I don’t find it necessary. I think on some level we’re eventually aware of everything we’re neglecting while attending to all of our electronic devices. We just chose to ignore it because it’s easier to text than to go out and find comfort in the sometimes disappointing relationships we can have with the people around us. Sitting across a table from a terrible friend or texting a terrible friend, won’t make your friendship any better. But it might. So my proposal is let’s all try to talk to faces and not 200 characters. Let’s silence our phones on trains and in lecture halls. Let’s try to remember what it was like to talk.

So? First blog huh? Well, I guess let’s all share in the excitement (don’t worry I’m not nearly conceited enough to pretend that this evokes some kind of arousal). First, let’s give thanks where thanks are due: Evgenevich the ultimate computer/website wizard slash future dot com millionaire? It’s doable! I’m having a conflict about the depth of details I should provide in these blogs. On one hand, I think this is sufficient distance from the age of facebook/myspace stalkerism to be able to divulge a little, while on the other hand not nearly trendy enough for me to xanga it up (haha do you guy remember fucking xanga?) and share the minutia of my daily life. So I guess a delicate balance would be key.
Jeez xanga. That was how long ago? 10th grade max? I remember feeling the irrepressible urge to post pictures of my seemingly avid social life the second I got home (an urge replaced only by the need to do the same on facebook). I hope people read this.
So I’m writing this in a Starbucks (I thought i’d be trendy (which i clearly am not) and whip out a laptop next to my late and be one with the people). Dirty Jerz does this shit to you, trust me. It’s funny how people joke around about how much this state sucks, but they cannot ever fully grasp the extent of it unless they have seen normal life (i.e. New York or Pennsylvania). Natural born Jerseyites will actually foam at the mouth defending this shithole…they just haven’t seen better. And yes, even dear old Lansdale is better. Blasphemy Mariya! Shame on you!
Apparently the world is in near collapse condition, waiting at the edge of their seats to make sure Brit is ok. While watching E! (for The Soup of course) I heard a snippet of the “Brit being wheeled away in an ambulance” hysteria followed by raw stalker fotog footage. And, at the risk of sounding completely ridiculous and loosing whatever reputation I have still managed to grasp onto, I must admit the following: post viewing this hysteria I actually found myself reaching for my laptop, googling the first legit-sounding website I could find, and reading (really fast- thinking that speed could prevent from me actually caring) all I could about this Britney Spears ambulance incident. After it was over (notice the syntax resembling a rape victim- that’s right media rapes us- down with the media man!), I felt so ashamed. I mean, honestly, I care less about the presidential race toward the White House than Britney’s race toward the loony bin. And, of course, in the ever finger pointing manner of my society, I blame everyone but myself. It’s not my fault that Obama or whoever else is running aren’t fascinatingly dysfunctional enough to keep my attention for more than 2 seconds. It’s their fault for not developing a drug habit or loosing custody of their kids, or having a knocked up teeny bopper sister.
Sometimes I wish I cared about politics, which I realize are more important to my future than Hollywood’s coke habits, BUT, I just think it’s so dull. Instead, I hope that the ever educated population of American voters (that was intended with humor, it’s ok to laugh) will make the right choice and I’ll just find some way to deal with it. I should probably be a little more pro-active but I just don’t care enough.
This is turning out to be a whopper of a blog….mmm whopper, but alas I’m a Wendy’s girl. Some old fogies are having a weird date type situation next to me. Maybe it’s just weird cause they’re old but still. They’re the kind of people who consider talking about their families as meaningful talk about souls. Best of luck to them and their primitive social habits. Dating is just weird, formal dating at least…awkward next to car standing/lingering. OMG it looks like old fogey kissed her! Ack gross old people kissing and me looking like a total creeper leaning into a really awkward position to spy on them. But it made me smile, they’re cute…kinda. And that just makes me realize that people’s relationships don’t really change with age. I mean my gramps (who is really my 85 yr. old great grandfather) still gets jealous of his gf (she’s like 76 or something) and they fight exactly like teenagers. And these people here, they were having the same weird date convo with strained politeness and impending sexual chemistry as a couple of 16 yr. olds.
ANOTHER STARBUCKS REALIZATION: (Besides that Jersey leaves few choices of places to share in awkward date having sexual chemistry). Jersey moms require massive amount of caffeine. I’ve seen maybe 5 now, spoiled brats in tow, come in for some coffee shit or other. Yeah, looks like a tough job getting fake highlights and oversized plastic nails. I mean, Thank God I have it easy as a future doctor. Yep, and here comes number 6 with a mini-yenta in training next to her. I bet she gets off from the four wheel drive of her minivan, who wouldn’t? I mean pardon me from not writhing in an earth shaking orgasm every time I clean with the latest Windex upgrade. I must be dysfunctional of some sort.
Well my Late is reaching a gross lukewarm temperature and the crowd in here consists of a family of two boys than clearly have not learned the concept of indoor voices yet. This is hindering my concentration to a large extent. That and there’s an apparent lack of cute boys too look at (yes yes that’s always important). So it’s back to the Batcave for me. End.