“No, Casey. Don’t do it. That’s too dangerous. Get a different assignment.”
That was my father’s immediate reaction upon telling him that I would be going into a three day “blackout,” eliminating any form of technology in my life as an experiment for class.
At first, I thought he was joking. He was dead serious, though. His concern only subsided when I promised him I would give him the cell phone numbers of my roommates and keep my (powered off) cell phone on me at all times in case of an emergency.
Even my friend, Jordan, who sits next to me in class had a knee jerk reaction: “Why would you even do that to yourself?”
It seemed people had more of a calm reaction to the kid in my class who decided to become one with the wilderness for a few days to experience what it would be like to be homeless first handedly.
From the get-go of my decision to rid myself of my cell phone, TV, laptop and iPod, I realized how reliant our society has become on the convenience of our gadgets.
Not that I am distancing myself from this. I am the first person to miss something one of my friends is saying to me because I am too indulged in my Twitter timeline to pay attention to someone right in front of me. In the morning, instead of reading the newspaper like a New York business man, I lay in bed scrolling through my recent Facebook notifications. In fact, if my Blackberry could talk, it would probably tell you that the skin of my palm feels like home. My laptop deserves large recognition for my academic success, and the TV for my sanity and relaxing down time. And if it weren’t for my iPod, the gym would be a foreign land to me.
I spend time with my gadgets like they are personal friends of mine. They’re around me just as much, if not more.
Three days without my favorite sidekicks? How hard could that be?
Day 1
I woke up to my roommate, Stacey, shaking me awake.
“What?”
“You need to get up.”
“Why?” I groggily asked, rolling over to turn my back to the world.
“Casey. I need to go. Get up. I don’t want you to miss your class. You have no snooze, remember?”
My eyes opened. Oh, yeah. I slowly sat up and nodded.
“I’ll call you later.”
I nodded, as Stacey walked to the door, fully dressed, pocket book on arm, ready for the day.
“Wait. You can’t.”
Stacey laughed quickly.
“Oh, true,” she said. “Your choice,” she added through a laugh before shutting the door.
Stopping for my morning coffee, still in a sleepy haze, I pulled into a parking space instead of going through the drive-thru. I was immediately greeted by a cheery, blonde barista that complimented my shirt. Admittedly, I was a little more awake and smiling just a little wider as I sank back into my Volkswagen sedan and sipped my iced coffee. It was nice to put a face to the static voice I spat my order at every morning.
I sat in my scriptwriting class, consciously avoiding touching the mouse and surfing the web, my usual class activity. I swiveled around in the computer chair for the first 10 minutes. I picked at my already-chipping-purple nail polish. I wondered what I should do later once I got home, since watching Desperate Housewives was out of the question. Having running out of things to think about and look at, I focused in on the lecture my teacher was giving.
After only a few minutes, I was completely engaged. I was raising my hand left and right, asking questions. Before I knew it, the class was over.
Walking out, I realized my involvement in the lecture was a record for my class participation. I had nothing else to do, no texts to send or games to play on my phone, so why not involve myself in the discussion?
After class, I rode home in silence. I rolled down the windows and listened to the hustle and bustle at every stop light on Kennedy. I did some more thinking. I made some lists in my head. But, mostly, I pondered what text messages were sitting unopened in my mailbox.
Maybe I should turn it on. Just for a second. What if someone had something important to tell me?
I considered having one of my roommates turn it on—read through the texts and voicemails, and relay to me anything important. I pictured her standing in the kitchen, reading each message and, me, sitting at the table eagerly trying to read her facial expressions. Did that smirk mean someone had texted me something funny? What if they thought it was rude I didn’t answer? I sighed, and pushed my cell phone deeper into the pocket so it was out of sight.
Technology is essentially supposed to make everything faster…easier. But, I found that when I was de-wired from the world, completely out of reach from distractions of colorful screens, without the option of Facebook breaks, I actually finished my assignments faster and with more thoughtfulness.
That night, my roommates all curled up on the couch to drink wine and watch TV. Sulking, I sat at my desk in my room reviewing my upcoming assignments for that week. Having little else to do, I tackled almost all of them, even the ones I knew I could easily finish last minute. At one point, one of my friends called up to see if I wanted to come downstairs and they’d turn the TV off. I declined—I didn’t want to break the productive academia role I was on.
A few hours later, I threw down my pen and exhaled loudly. Two more days.
Day 2
After a leisure morning of sleeping in, I woke up at 10:30 am and decided to go for a run. Instead of going to the gym for an hour and a half workout, I opted to run around my neighborhood. (In hindsight, maybe including the elliptical as “technology” was a little too far of a stretch). I reached for my iPod and only once it was in my hand did I remember the rules. I put it back.
After what felt like a few miles, I slowed down, out of breath. I slowly walked back to my house. In the kitchen, I grabbed a cold Aquafina water bottle from the fridge and began chugging. I glanced at the stove clock. 10: 42. I choked on the water in my throat a little.
“You okay?” Stacey asked from the kitchen table, where she sat diligently studying.
I capped the water and let the fridge door slam shut. I headed towards the stairs.
“I’m never running without my iPod again,” I mumbled.
I spent the rest of my day doing laundry, cleaning my room and even cleaned the rest of the house. My roommates and I cooked dinner before getting ready to hit the S. Howard bars.
That night was the time I thought least about the lack of technology in my life. The combination of friends and alcohol was entertainment enough. It was only standing on the outdoor deck-bar of MacDinton’s Irish Pub talking to a tall, lanky guy with uncomfortably curly hair did I wish I had my phone to pull out as an excuse to have to walk away. I tried to eye my friend in the distance to come “save me.” She drunkenly smiled and waved, then continued dancing. Guess girls’ ability to “talk-with-their-eyes” isn’t as strong as it used to be.
Day 3
To my surprise, by the third day I lost the urge to constantly check my bag for my phone. My friends had adjusted pretty well, too.
I went to my friend’s pool to catch some rays. When we were grabbing things from inside the house to take outside with us, I shook my head when one of my friends picked up the portable iPod speakers.
“But I don’t want my headphones to get wet!” she protested.
Five minutes later, three of us laid on parallel lawn chairs in silence. Me, absorbing the sounds of nature. My friends blowing their eardrums with their iPod headphones cranked high.
Once I got home, showered and napped, I studied for a couple of hours. At a house party that night, I was approached by a girl with an extremely passive-aggressive personality.
“I texted you the other day!” She shouted over the defeaning flow of house music playing throughout the house.
“What? Sorry, I can’t hear you!” I yelled back.
“I SAID,” she screamed, leaning into my ear. “I TEXTED YOU TO HANG OUT THE OTHER DAY. WHY DIDN’T YOU ANSWER!?”
I pulled back and gave her an apologetic face.
“Sorry! Phone’s broken!”
Once I walked away, I had to try not to smile. After all, it was a legitimate excuse. My phone was out of commission.
The Day After
I woke up Monday morning to my roommate shaking me awake.
“Get up. This bulls**t is over. Turn your damn alarm on. I’m leaving.”
I’ve gone over a week without a phone before (thanks, water damage). But, I can’t remember the last time I went without any “gadget.” I noticed over the three day blackout that, more than ever, not only are laptops, smart phones and iPods a convenient amenity, they are also assets that have actually made life inconvenient to go without.
After I was allowed to reconnect with technology, the first thing I did was turn my cell phone on. Immediately, my inbox was bombarded with text message after text message. Many, to my surprise, were completely unimportant. Others, I wish I had seen at the time, like the invitation I missed out on to go to dinner with some old friends.
Next, I logged onto Facebook. I realized nothing had changed. The same pictures and annoying and depressing statuses piled on my screen, the majority of which affected me in no way.
Although I can honestly say my Blackberry and laptop weren’t severely painful for me to forfeit for a few days, they are objects that I have realized have been tightly fitted into my everyday life—so much so that my relationships and general lifestyle would be affected if I no longer had them permanently.
After classes that day, I went home, made dinner and found an empty spot on the couch between my roommates. Time to catch up on some DVR.
1 week. The time it now takes for users to send a billion Tweets.
8. 29. 130. 350. 400. Number of Twitter employees in Jan 2008, Jan 2009, Jan 2010, Jan 2011 and today.
182%. Increase in number of mobile users over the past year.
6,939. Current Tweets Per Second (TPS) record, set 4 seconds after midnight in Japan on New Year’s Day.This dwarfs the previous record of 456 TPS (on the day Michael Jackson died).
Twitter has more than 100 million monthly global actives. And half of our active users log in every day.
Twitter.com has more than 400 million monthly unique visitors, according to Google Analytics. That number is up from 250 million in Jan, ’11
The split between genders among the most active Twitter users is fairly balanced with 54% male, 46% female.
21% of users have never posted a Tweet
5% of Twitter users account for 75% of all activity
As of June 2011, users on Twitter are now averaging 200 million Tweets per day.