Switching off.

Much has been written about the amount of connectedness we have in this brave new digital world. Cell phones, smartphones, text messages, facebook, twitter all enable us to keep in more or less constant contact with the people and institutions in our lives.

Most people find this indispensible, and simultaneously obnoxious. "Unplugging" is as hip as iPhones, but everyone still has their iPhone. Or BlackBerry. Or Droid. Or laptop. Or basic mobile telephone.

The point is, we live in a world where getting in touch with someone is easy, instantaneous, and can be accomplished from anywhere. This is has fundamentally changed the way we view interaction. When you call someone on a cell phone, the expectation is that they're going to answer. It is a cell phone, designed to be with you at all times.

Twenty years ago, when you tried to call someone, they may or may not have been home. And if they weren't, you shrugged your shoulders and tried again some other night, or afternoon, or whatever.

But a cell phone is always with you, and it has caller ID and a call log in addition to voicemail, text messages, and picture capabilities. So, you call someone, and they know who's calling. They then make a conscious choice to pick up the phone or not, which is it's own can of worms. And then if they don't answer, there's a record of that fact that you called, when, whether you left a message.

This makes the phrase "sitting around by the phone" both obsolete and replete with new meaning. There's no reason to stay home waiting for a call these days, because your phone is with you. So you never have to sacrifice to stay in touch. But on the flip side, you know damn well whether or not that call you were waiting for ever came in. You can't distract yourself by going out and having a good time, because the phone comes with you. So you can sit around by the phone, while ostensibly out having a good time.

Way to kill girls' night, cell phone. Thanks a lot.

Let's not even touch on the politics of call frequency, message frequency, text frequency. I often feel like I don't really know those rules well enough to function in the world; I'm often accused of being overeager.

But what really gets me is how much I, personally, have invested in my phone.

My phone is a gauge of how much I am loved.

You laugh, but I'm perfectly serious.

My phone tells me how often and how ardently people want to get in touch with me. My phone tells me if someone is reminded of me by some occurrence in their day.

When several hours go by without my phone beeping at me even once, I feel unloved. I feel unconnected. I feel as if I matter to no one, no one at all in the entire world. No one's thinking about me, I am affecting no one, no one gives a damn.

This is patently, ridiculously unhealthy. I realize this. Not getting phonecalls, text messages, emails, facebooks or what-have-you does not mean I am not loved. But not getting them certainly does have an incredible, immediate and negative impact on my self-esteem.

But I don't know, exactly, how to tackle this one. Should I give up my phone? Should I live without a cell phone? Should I downgrade to something extremely basic? (Hello, Jitterbug!) Or is that just getting rid of the symptom without actually tackling the disease? Why do I put so much emphasis in whether or not other people are trying to contact me? Why do I want to be so important to people that they tell me random, ridiculous things whenever they occur?

Why am I so NEEDY? GAWD.

But seriously, I'm at a loss. I realize that I have to change something, because being hurt because I'm not getting enough electronic interaction is ridiculous, but I don't know what. Or how.

Miscellany and other hodgepodge

1.

I saw Scott Pilgrim vs. The World last night, and while I was marvelously entertained and giggling maniacly throughout the film, the ending left me more than a little deflated, and also a touch offended. The whole premise of the movie, right, is that in order to date the girl of his dreams, Mr. Pilgrim has to defeat her 7 evil exes. (Not ex-boyfriends. Exes.) There's all manner of fun video-game hilarity along the way, some pretty chuckle-worthy band-geek humor, and the whole thing is very visually appealing.

And, for the first 6 exes, Mr. Pilgrim's need to fight them is just an interesting plot device. The girl in question (Ramona, which I had forgotten is really a pretty awesome name) has moved on from all of these men, learned her lessons, is over it.

But then we get to the last one. This one has some sort of creepy hold over her (she just can't control herself around him) that's explained in the film as a mind-control chip he's implanted in the nape of her neck. She leaves our hero for this guy, despite not really wanting him and thinking he's a creep. He treats her more like a pet than a girlfriend. At one point he's actually PETTING HER HAIR IN PUBLIC as she sits TWO STEPS BELOW HIM on his throne-like pyramid, wearing what looks suspiciously like a dog collar from a distance and with the most wooden, unhappy expression on her face you've ever seen. (Shades of Star Wars, anyone?)

In short, this guy is every creepy, controlling, bordering-on-abusive boyfriend that every girl has had at least one of.

And Scott Pilgrim defeats him. Not Ramona. Scott Pilgrim. He forever robs her of the chance to face her demons, figure out why she was ever attracted to this creep, and then cut him out of her life HERSELF. This is the point of bad relationships: so we can learn. And she doesn't get to, because Our Hero Scott Pilgrim takes it on himself to DO IT FOR HER. Equally creepy and controlling, for the record.

And then, as my friend (who is male, which I only bring up because it's interesting that he was most offended by the end because of how it left the male lead and I was most offended by how it left the female lead) pointed out, after all the personal growth that Mr. Pilgrim experiences while fighting Ramona's evil exes, he turns around and walks off into the starry morning with her. The whole point of personal growth is you MOVE THE FUCK ON. And, instead, he walks off into fantasy land with a woman who is now, for all intents and purposes, permanently broken. Obviously, his personal growth was a sham. All that warm fuzzy shit about "self-respect" that allows him to defeat Ramona's one TRULY evil ex is a lie. He's still just a pud trying to get in her pants using whatever means necessary.

So, great movie, until the last 15 minutes. I would like to completely rewrite the ending.

2.

I never thought I (or anyone else, for that matter) would ever utter this sentence, but WHY didn't I get a degree in something useful like Nonprofit Management?

Seriously. There's a job available here in Milwaukee with an awesome, awesome organization that I would be GREAT at, but I don't have the degree or the experience. Because I didn't do something useful in college. Like nonprofit management.

Perhaps this is just an expression of my subconscious need to move and travel, because I have been at this job for 18 months now and that's a long time in my life, but I really, really, REALLY wish that I had a shot at this job. I would like to move on, and this is perfect. Fundraising? Development? Event coordination? These are all the things that I am fucken fantastic at. And, you know, Urban Ecology Center. Great people, great mission, something I can really get behind and sink my teeth into.

Also, I need new challenges. See above re: 18 months/travel.

3.

Personal revelations of the week: I am ridiculous and also impatient and also hopelessly, incurably romantic and girly. Don't let the snide and snarky veneer fool you.