I’ve never tried this “posting first thing in the morning” before.  Usually it’s one of those things I do at the end of the day before retiring.  For some bizarre reason I feel more sagely late at night, plus it gives me a means to vent all the anger I’ve built up over the day.  But with the cable out, I don’t get to watch all the early morning shows that I’m too embarrassed to add to the DVR, (ie, Spongebob and It’s Me or the Dog,) so I guess I’ll see if I can be sagely and angry early in the morning, too.

#5. We don’t get criticized enough.

The author argues that thanks to the sterility of internet communication,  as argued previously, we aren’t having those necessary conversations in which someone tells you a truth that you didn’t feel comfortable knowing.  Those “Those horrible, awkward, wrenchingly uncomfortable sessions that you can only have with someone who sees right to the center of you.”  Or with anyone your freshman year of college.

I have two main issues with this.  First off, I believe that because the internet is so impersonal, it actually gives you more freedom to speak your mind freely without fear of consequence.  When you’re with your friends, even the closest ones, it’s pretty hard to turn to them and say, “You know, you’re making some really bad decisions in your life right now, and that’s why everyone’s been kind-of avoiding you.”  By doing so, you have to be ready to take on their immediate and emotional responses, which generally involve a lot of denial and justification, depending on how uncomfortable the truth is.  And no matter how true the truth is or how many other people agree with you, you have to be ready to be the bad guy, and possibly a terrible person.  So unless you’re sitting in your car in their driveway at the end of the evening (a good place for heart to hearts,) you’ve got a very long evening ahead of you.

But with instant messaging, you can speak your mind without worrying about any of that; if it’s starting to get too uncomfortable you can pick your words more delicately, sign off and tell them that your internet went down, or even claim that it was just your little brother being an asshole and pretending to be you!  If you don’t have to deal with the consiquences of your words, why wouldn’t you tell your friends exactly how much you hate her boyfriend?  That’s what the internet is for!

The author is also assuming that our friends are only coming in the form of the internet; that the only time we speak to the people we’re close to is when we’re texting or aiming them.  I find this to be a very narrow view of the world; while we as a generation do use the internet as a frequent means of communication, it is merely a supplement to our already existent friendships.  Look at your buddy list, or your facebook friends, for that matter.  How many of them are people that you didn’t know previous to your virtual relationship?  I’ll bet that most of us will find none.  We use these tools to reach friends when we are far away or grounded, but that’s not to say that we don’t get to have those heart-to-hearts every now and then as well.  Even those of us that do have friends that we only access on the ‘net would probably find that these are not the types of friends that we’d be having deep conversations with anyway; think of them as your buddy at work with whom you’ll discuss Real Housewives for hours, but you probably wouldn’t spill your heart out to about a recent breakup.  And that’s fine.  Fun, meaningless relationships have their place too, and there’s no better place to find those relationships than the internet.

Especially if you have a blog.  No more a fun and meaningless relationship did ever exist.

Yooou though I’d forgotten, didn’t you?  You thought I’d lost all my anger towards this assbag.  Well, there are two things that are never missing from my world: Burt’s Bees and anger.  Onward.

#4. Online company only makes us lonelier.

Oh, really?

According to this guy, all virtual interaction  serves to deepen the depression that is our collective lives.  This is because without body language or tone of voice, we are missing out on 93% of the message being conveyed.  Furthermore, we filter all messages through our current mood, which, seeing as we living in the 21st century, is apparently a crappy one.  Thus, because we take all these messages to be snide and mean to match our already bad mood, we can never feel happy because everyone talking to us online is snide and mean, and has nothing nice to say to us.

Really?

I beg to differ.  For the first two years of college, I was in a long distance relationship with a guy going to school over 500 miles away.  Among other methods that we used to stay in touch were instant messaging and e-mailing.  Especially with the busy schedules that we both juggled, these means of communicating were invaluable for us to stay active in each other’s lives.  Was it as good as sitting next to him and having a live conversation?  Fuck no!  But it sure beat the hell out of a letter.  And tell you what, the messages that he sent me were neither snide, nor mean.  In fact, some of them were even able to *gasp* make me feel better when I was in a bad mood!  I can safely say, and I’m sure he’d agree, (I’d ask him, but I’m trying to avoid being the creepy stalker ex,) that there’s no way our relationship would have lasted as long as it did without the aid of virtual communication.

I think the author of this article is speaking with the voice of an older generation, (no offence, older generation,) one who has not grown up with virtual communication so commonplace.  Having a conversation via virtual means requires the use of a dialect all its own.  “lol,” “lmao,” “*gasp,* and the infamous “:)” are all means for conveying the body language that is missing in virtual communication.  Lame and annoying means, but effective, nonetheless.  Those of us who are fluent in virtual communication are surprisingly adept at expressing ourselves with subtlety and depth, and gleaning full meaning from messages sent to us.  Is it as fullfilling as a face-to-face conversation with our friends and loved ones?  Of course not!  But with friends and family spread across the country, personal interaction is not always possible.  So we takes what we can gets and cherish the joy that even limited and impersonal communication can bring us.

I also wonder that anyone who is so stuck in their foul mood that they will interpret messages as meanspirited due to their mood will have different results in a personal setting.  As someone who spends a good deal of time being angry at the world, (hey, there’s a lot of dumbasses out there, and they all feel the need to either sit in my blind spot or ask me if I’m satisfied with my cell phone carrier,) I can attest from experience that if I’m in a bad mood, even the kindest of words from a stranger can still make me want to punch them in the face due to my subconscious misinterpretation.  A kind word is a kind word, no matter what format it’s being sent it; either you’re going to accept it or you’re not.  It has nothing to do with how it’s being conveyed to you; it has everything to do with who’s sending it and how much of an asshole you’re going to be that day.

And I know.  My asshole capabilities are astounding.

There are many things that no one tells you about married life.  How hard it is to juggle families at Christmas.  How many arguments will be instigated by the purchase of fabulous flap pocket sateen pants.  How long it will take for all of your credit cards to have the same name on them.  But there’s one thing that no one tells you in any speeches, and it’s this: you don’t need a pregnancy to have sympathy pains.

I pulled up to the theatre today just in time to watch my husband run the nose of a 26′ truck into the front bumper of his boss’ BMW.  (So much for German engineering.)  As I watched Kyle break the news to his boss, I chewed on my lips, nervously jingled my keys, and tried my damnedest not to blow chunks all over the floor.  And that struck me as odd.  I mean, I wasn’t the one who ran the truck into my boss’ crazy expensive car.  You watch someone else do something like that, you shake your head and say, “Wow, that sucks.”  But when the person who did it was my spouse, it was as if I had done it myself; I felt all the guilt and the fear that Kyle was probably feeling.

You hear all the cliches about two people becoming one, blah blah blah.  But the truth is, it’s kind-of true.  For the rest of my life, I not only have to cope with and respond to the consequences of my actions, but those of someone else’s too.  And conversely, there’s nothing that I do that won’t play some kind of role in Kyle’s life as well.  I’m not quite sure why it’s taken me almost 3 months for this truth to finally sink in, but the full realization is a bit staggering.

Moral of the story?  Don’t run over your boss’ car, especially if you’re married.