Remember when the Internet started and you only had to remember one password? How many passwords at this point do you honestly have or are you using the same one over and over and over again to infinitum? I guess that is frowned upon in the industry due to the fact that you can be easily hacked. And how do you even make up a password that you are going to remember? It has to have a capital letter, a number, a penis. I don’t know why I said that. Was it even funny? I can’t tell, my sense of humor has been hacked.
And how do you make up something that’s relevant enough to your life, yet not obvious? And do you share your passwords with your significant other? I mean no, I don’t think so. This is one of the reasons I don’t have a significant other, but I refuse to share! I need some privacy in my accounts, before I blab every damn detail of my life in my blog! Goddammit!
What about identity theft? As I always say, you want my identity? Come and get it! When you find out how much money you owe, you might regret it. I know someone whose bank account has been broken into like six times. She buys everything online, even like toothpaste. I guess that’s what you get for not wanting to run your own errands, get in a car, and live this life with your own hands and feet. I mean this particular individual is hella busy. However if the whole world starts getting everything delivered, none of us will ever leave our homes and our tablets or computers.
We would never get off of Facebook. Speaking of Facebook, why are they so greedy? I mean I have over two thousand or so ‘friends’, (no I don’t really have two thousand friends, it’s through this authors network). Facebook will only share my blog posts with a fraction of those people unless I pay them. And still only a few see it. I pay them five dollars a day. That’s a coffee and a bagel a day. I still get coffee and something to eat almost every day, at Starbucks of all places. Basically the world is robbing me blind!
And how does Facebook work anyways, why are the likes on my Facebook page different than the likes at the end of this article? Where do these likes at the end of this article go? To Facebook infinity? These are the questions that must be answered in this new digital life. The number of likes are important. These are the digits of our lives. I’m a little obsessed with blog statistics as well, I like to know how many visitors I am getting. I tried to set up Google Analytics, they wanted me to do computer acrobatics, which I’m no good at. And what’s up with google? Why can you only open one gmail account on your computer at a time?
I’m checking one of a few gmail accounts right now, I’m at Starbucks. It’s sort of one of my ‘offices’ where I do my writing. I don’t mind the noise, if you mind noise don’t come here, they play weird music too. My friends call me Light White FM, because I listen to soft rock. Their Internet is going in and out, and god forbid I deal with that when I’m writing words that could save the universe. Remember when most places in the universe didn’t have wifi? Remember when there was no wifi? I remember the first time I could take my computer outside on the deck and use the Internet wirelessly. I was amazed. Now I’m amazed I used to use a landline dial-up service, was it true you couldn’t be on the phone and use the Internet simultaneously or am I making that up? It was rough back then.
The universe is sort of at our fingertips with this web invention, I mean soon we will be chatting with aliens online. I sometimes feel like I’m chatting with aliens when I log into Match.com. I know I’ve talked addendum about online dating. Can I just say one more thing? I promise not to bring it up for a while again. Can I say there has to be a better way. Don’t you people know someone who would be good for me? I know most of you are complete strangers, but do I seem comepletely undatable to you? Do I seem like marriage material at all, someone you could take home to mom?
Yeah I know, my personal bio sucks. I mean I won’t give all the good stuff away, but I’m mentally ill, broke as a joke and I live in my parents basement, literally. There’s tons more attributes I could add like acid reflex, but I’m just gonna leave you with that as a taste of what I have to offer. Show this post to your nearest eligible bachelor and see if he perks up! (And this is a shout out to you random guys who have messaged me on Facebook or called me on Facebook from India, check out my bio. I don’t think it’s worth a visa).
Oh don’t you worry I’m not down on myself about all that is not right with my life! I’m actually happy for once in my life. I don’t know how it happened, but the universe is finally cooperating with me in many ways. Things are going my way, I’m on my way to a better life, a better me. Part of this bettering of me I want to do is not be so digitally hooked. I’m on the Internet or the phone like seventy percent of my day sometimes. If not more. I write straight on the internet, no Word or a yellow legal pad. I just go straight to the source. It’s gonna bite me in the ass if WordPress goes bankrupt and I lose all my work.
Remember when we saved stuff on disks? Ha ha, that seems funny to me now. A collection of disks seems so far removed and hilarious to me. Remember floppy disks, you could literally throw them in the sky like a boomerang. They were actually floppy. Although in their defense, my flash drive is so tiny I’m not really sure what pocket or purse I put it in. It has all my college lesson plans in it, all of them, on one flash drive the size of a walnut.
I guess the lessons are on my computer as well. This Mac is my best friend in terms of gadgets, but it’s been in the shop more times then I care to recall. They changed the mother board on it like three times. I don’t know what a mother board is, I barely know how to do more than turn this machine on. But I’ve been told that mother boards are kinda important. Why did I spend so much money to buy a Mac? The PC’s I had took more than five minutes to start, they would give me weird update messages I had to click on, and they got viruses. So I shelled out the money. Actually you shelled out the money, at the time I was funded by government student loans.
God I gotta pee but it’s a conundrum to do that when you have a nice computer and you are at Starbucks…you don’t want to pack up shop just to go to the bathroom. You could ask the nearest dude to watch your computer. The nearest dudes to me are speaking some Asian language I can’t identify. They are deep in Asian conversation. What is a sister to do? I’m gonna interrupt them before my leg starts shaking even more.
I used the men’s bathroom. I can’t believe I’m admitting this. So shoot me. I couldn’t wait for the bitch in the women’s bathroom to finish her business. Maybe someone thought I was transgendered…not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’m serious there is nothing wrong with Caitlyn or all the other unknown transgendered folk. (I had to add a moment of activism). So back to me, yeah with my long hair and frilly clothes no one is gonna think I’m a dude. I’m sort of unquestionably a woman. I wrote once about how ‘feminine’ everyone thinks I am. It’s weird.
I was on the phone and told someone my computer is dying, and this chic out of nowhere asks me if I need a Mac charger. That was incredibly nice, I didn’t take her up on it because I’m tired and want an excuse to go home, but I told her thanks like three times. then I told her no one does anything like that. Then I said I wouldn’t even do such a thing for someone else. She looked at me curiously. I think I ruined the whole gesture by admitting that…
“The Internet is so big, so powerful and pointless that for some people it is a complete substitute for life.”—Andrew Brown
So remember when there was no Internet? Come on old folks, you can go there with me? What the fuck did we do with our precious time? Talk to each other? Live? No cell phones…remember that? Landlines. Remember when people could not get a hold of you for weeks, months? People like your parents. My parents thought I ran away once when I lived in D.C. because I didn’t call them for like a month.
I’m not comfortable with the fact that the last thing I kiss goodnight is my Mac or my iPhone. My gadgets are too much a part of my existence. I mean look at what just happened, someone on Facebook just questioned if one of my stories was made up on my blog. This is not fiction, people. Anyways, I was deep in thought about what I’m writing here, and I saw that I had a message on Facebook, so I immediately dropped everything and checked. I’m digitally drunk. I can’t make informed decisions, my facilities, I mean faculties (see what I’m talking about?) are compromised. My friend fell on her face while walking and looking at her phone. She couldn’t walk in a straight line.
There was one time when I was talking on my iPhone, writing, surfing the Internet, watching T.V. muted while listening to Pandora all at the same time. I’m not making this up.
This is getting out of control. Ooops I did it again. I really am playing with my heart. This can’t be healthy. I just posted something in a group I’m on in Facebook and I couldn’t spell a word and couldn’t find spellcheck. So I googled it. I remember when I could sort of spell. Now it’s all gone. I’m having a Facebook comment conversation with a complete stranger. I’m also trying to edit this very article. I just went on the Internet again…I’m sick. Help me.