Welcome to the age of ignorance.
We have entered an era of extreme ineptitude.
Our reliance on technology is incredible and disturbing at the same time.
Our ability to socialize diminishes while our words per minute increase.
Our methods of communication increase but our messages are still lost.

How am I? Read my blog. You aren't special. You'll get the same message as every other stranger who stumbles across my live journal.

How do I feel? Read my status on Facebook! Don't ask me. You're wasting my time. There's nothing we need to talk about that you can't post on my wall.

Are we becoming antisocial or technosocial?

Soon, we'll all be MySpace or Facebook profiles.
Trapped in the interests, movies and music we have posted. Locked into relationship statuses like "It's complicated" and seeking statuses like "Anything I can get".

What can you learn about me that you can't learn from my profile?
Nothing. I'm 2 dimensional. You'll know what's new when I update my profile.
If it's not there, it's not a part of me or my life.

Can't get enough? Google me. Everything you'll find is 100% accurate.
Even the posts made by 13 year old girls that say "Dana's bein' gay..." are
accurate. (I know that's an abbreviation of the word 'being', but chances are I was being gay)

Technosocializing, as I call it, has made dishonesty easy. It has complicated the simple and diluted the real. I can't imagine the impact it has on young children growing up in the already harsh and judgmental cliques found in our school systems.
Now, you REALLY know where you stand because the popular kids don't accept your MySpace friendship. (Even though you put the best picture ever taken of you as your profile picture) Fortunately for me, the internet didn't really boom until I was in college. At that point in my life, I had already learned how to socialize in public, away from a computer monitor. (and sometimes technosocializing still retards my social life)

I find it interesting that our country has a tremendous weight problem and coincidentally the internet allows for us to do everything from home. You don't have to leave home to work, shop, communicate, see a movie - I'm surprised you can't get cyber gym memberships. Yeah, that's the ticket...watch virtual you lose virtual weight at the online gym. You'll burn mental calories like never before. Never leave home again! Try the cyber diet! Download three meals a day and lose 30 pounds in a month - GUARANTEED!

WebMD has boosted hypochondria and self diagnosis to a dangerous level.
According to my WebMD induced paranoia - I have multiple sclerosis, colitis, pregnancy, conjunctivitis, jaundice, hepatitis A,B and C, rocky mountain fever, hoof in mouth, gout, lymphoma, the heebie jeebies, Festivus and the Cumberland Gap.
Since I'm confident with my self diagnoseeeeeeees - I don't need to see a doctor even though it recommends one on the site. (Question, is it normal to have one sclerosis - just not multiple sclerosis?) Imagine being a doctor faced with this (albeit slightly toned down) paranoia. Mr. Bein - you aren't pregnant. You don't have ovaries or a uterus. Do I have hepatitis Doc? No, Mr. Bein. But the website said... Please leave, Mr. Bein. I'm going to get a second opinion online with a Second Life doctor.

Don't even get me started on Second Life. What a concept! I'm too much of a douche-brained chucklehead to consider buying real property...let's purchase imaginary property in an imaginary cyber world because everyone else is doing it. Insanity.
How socially palsyed do you have to be to take your already pathetic existence to an even MORE pathetic existence - one that doesn't ACTUALLY exist?!?! At least Worlds of Warcraft falls under the guise of gaming (and even that's a stretch considering how much time people spend playing it) I want to get involved in Second Life just to become a cyber serial killer. I'll wipe out all of your avatars one by one just to get you to realize the pile of flesh in the chair in front of your computer probably serves a better purpose elsewhere. How's your family doing? NO NOT THAT FAMILY! Your REAL family! Call your mom. Talk to your crazy uncle. Drink some Yoohoo or Fanta. Get your senses aligned with reality again.

What's the point Dana? Visit www.wakethefuckup.com! Get out there and see the things you're Googling! Meet some people face to face! Forget Second Life and stop neglecting your First Life! Talk to strangers! Obtain some palpable and tangible information that isn't downloaded to your hard drive!
Meet someone - THEN MySpace them! Novel! Live a real life. Learn by doing.
Log the fuck off!

Take a break from LinkedIn, Doostang, Online Fantasy Football, Craigslist, BlacksonBlonds.com, Snopes, Amazon, EBay, Netflix, Blogger, MySpace, Facebook, Cnn.com, WebMD, Pandora and 2Girls1Cup!!!

I'm not telling you Wikipedia, Amazon.com and porn are bringing down true socializing. I find them all useful but you can learn, shop and fuck in the real world and all it takes is some motivation and real socializing. For serious.

This is all extremely hypocritical seeing as I'm posting (drumroll) online.
As I mentioned earlier, I too, get sucked into technosocializing - the difference being I root my technosocializing in reality. The reality of today is I'm sick. (diagnosed on WebMD of course - they told me I have a cold) Hopefully whatever virus I'm carrying is only a social virus and not a technosocial virus, otherwise you'd better smear some Purell on your keyboard pronto. (WebMD recommends it - so does BlacksonBlonds.com for some reason...hmm)

In other news...
I love the Patriots and I think Belichick is probably the best coach of all time but how
much of a cold hearted prick are you that when you are in a good mood it makes the front cover of the Boston Globe? "Belichick puts Smile Into Play" - D1 Globe 1/29/08

Are strokes more rampant than ever? The advertisements to recognize when someone is having a stroke certainly are. FAST! Face - Arms - Speech - Time! If one of your friends has half a limp face, can't lift an arm and says Bof Fri Freu - get their ass to the ER stat! I think the Strokes should team up with the animators of these ads and make a music video. Team up! Strokes Againsts Strokes. When I'm having a stroke, my face goes limp at the end and I can usually lift my arms unless I've been at it for a while. I try not to speak during a stroke - it's not pretty.

In December I had an epiphane - a realization - an understanding with myself.
I'd like to share it with you. Apologies if you've heard this already. I tend to repeat myself to those who are around me the most. I share this with you because it might inspire you. It might not. It might piss you off. If it pisses you off, you've got some work to do. Shortly after the Christmas holiday, I realized that in my life since late elementary school I've been putting in about 65 to 70% effort into everything I do.
I recognized then that I was intelligent and charming enough to get by and do so better than some who put in 100%. Since then, I've accomplished quite a bit that I'm proud of. Though, what could I have accomplished if I put in 90%? Who knows?
That's the basis of my realization. It's time to step up. Since December, I've been writing more, working harder, working out every day, being a better friend and family member, reading more, being more honest and putting in the 90% that I should be putting in. As a result, I've never been happier. I could never have imagined that I'd be in this place right now. I've come to terms with the fact that you are responsible for your own happiness and you can't rely on any external factors to get you there. You have to make the best you that you can - become independently happy and then you can heighten and accessorize that happiness with the external (such as a significant other, a car, a condo - whatever). Make yourself more attractive to yourself and you'll become happier. A happier you will attract more fun, more opportunities and other people. If you haven't trusted me on anything yet, trust me on this one.

OK back to being a douche...
In college, my school put on a production of Dracula. The lead who played Dracula was
queer as folk, gayer than pink and homosexual. In the show, there's a scene where Dracula is supposed to seduce, feel up and bite the female lead. I say he's supposed to because that's not exactly what transpired. What happened was HIGHlarious!
Dracula made his approach and began to somewhat convincingly caress the lead - still heterosexual. He then kissed around her neck which didn't seem out of the ordinary - still heterosexual. Then, he beat off her tits like they were cocks. WTF? Ok, that's not exactly what happened but he felt her up as if he was making one of those Thanksgiving hand turkeys in nursery school. He approached the breasts with such hesitant delicacy as if they'd break and yolk would pour out of them upon his touch.
I'm not saying breasts don't deserve care and gentle attention - I'm just saying that it's obvious when a guy confuses the way you touch ballsack with the way you touch breasts. It would have been less awkward and less blatantly gay if he tuned in Tokyo.
Girls LOVE that. Needless to say (just as needless as the phrase needless to say), this was the highlight of the show. That and the idea that Dracula might slip and say "I vant to suck your dick, I mean, BLOOOOD!" Sure, gay men are better actors in college but rehearse the feel up scene and block out where the hands should go.

My mom is going to Arizona. She is going to be near the SuperBowl.
She's done this for 5 years or so. She has gone to the SuperBowl site but not to the actual game. That doesn't work for me. That's like doing the work to get a girl naked and going home upon nudity. We're here! I'm out. Ok, maybe this will work better for you...it's like going to the McDonalds with a playground as a kid (the one across town) and not getting to play in the playground. Or driving by SixFlags and not being able to go in and cut loose. Spend hundreds of dollars to get there and not actually get there.
It's like teasing yourself.
Buying a scratch ticket and not scratching it. Watching Jeopardy but not Final Jeopardy. Going to the Cheesecake Factory and not eating Cheesecake. Walking in Downtown Crossing and not getting harassed by solicitors. Renting a porn and not being able to touch yourself. I don't understand it. She enjoys it.

I used to have sex dreams about Minnie Mouse. I'm not kidding.
They've stopped mostly because under the costume I'm sure she's a Mexican guy named Pancho. I've begun having sex dreams about Mexican guys named Pancho.
Mickey Mouse takes less issue with this. I'm entitled to my own Fantasia! Eff you, you over celebrated prepubescent rodent!