Some people like drugs. Some people like alcohol. Some people like sex.
My over-indulgence is the Internet. I can stare vacantly into the screen for hours talking to friends over instant messageming, checking my e-mail and perusing Craigslist missed connection ads. I used to check my MySpace and Facebook accounts dozens of times a day until I decided to delete them to help break my addiction.
It didn't help, really. I just ended up checking my e-mail dozens of times instead, hoping a Facebook friend might e-mail me to see if I'm still alive. No luck. I only get angry Internet geeks e-mailing me these days, but that's another story entirely.
But then, a miracle happened. My computer died — like, really died. My lovely little high school graduation gift sat there lifeless, with only a black screen and a white arrow cursor. I'm pretty sure in the world of computers, that's the equivalent of a flat line on a heart monitor.
At first I was devastated, then overwhelmed with happiness and contentment. This is what I imagine a heroine addict feels at an intervention. Or at least that's what I've seen on the A&E show "Intervention."
This was my time to break away, and I was going to take it — never mind that my computer malfunction happened a week before finals. This was my chance, and it was wonderful.
I laid out the ground rules. I was only to check my e-mail at school for no more than 10 minutes, only responding to school and journalism inquiries so I don't fall behind in my work. The rest of my time had to be filled with activities I used to enjoy before I became a pale and pasty Internet enthusiast.
For the first time this semester, I opened a book that wasn't required reading for class. It was Ian McEwan's beautifully written book "Atonement," which I bought my freshman year — long before the movie was made, thank you. And then I remembered that I actually enjoy reading.
I became an old-time blues man as I picked up the ol' acoustic and sat on my porch, undoubtedly annoying my neighbors with my overly simple tunes and used-to-be-pretty, but now-slightly-off-pitch voice. Sadly for them, this was my favorite old-but-new activity of my Internet-free week.
I became enraged as my roommate came into the apartment with two Guitar Hero "guitars" in her hands, but quickly became addicted to the game after a few strawberry margaritas. I can rock that game like you wouldn't imagine.
But since I was breaking my Internet addiction, I needed to stay away from this kind of computer-generated interactive fun. So instead, I decided to spend some quality time with my mom, free from distractions.
I know I'm not the only one who has been seduced into the appealing lure of the Internet — I constantly watch friends obsessively check their Facebook news feed, even while one of their real friends is sitting beside them watching.
In my news-writing class last week, my teacher was discussing computer-assisted reporting. She pointed out that while the Internet is a useful tool to track down leads and potentially find stories; the great stories haven't been discovered yet. They're out in the "real world."
That really resonated with me.
This week, Channel 12 did a report on the use of "LOL" and smiley emoticons in junior high and high school essays. While I am only 20, I can remember a time without Internet.
Today's junior high and high school students grew up with the virtual second world we call the World Wide Web. For them, "LOL" is a legitimate word. I don't find this stupid or immature on their part. I think it's a sad failure on the part of a society that supports this kind of ignorance.
With that said, I'll leave you with my epiphany — the Internet is a useful learning tool, but it can also be incredibly toxic. From now on, I choose to utilize the Internet for its positive tools only — and, maybe to Google pictures of Luke Wilson.
I'm taking time to experience really real things this summer.
E-mail me your ideas at: christina.caldwell@asu.edu.
