When my oldest sister left for college in 1993, she took an electronic word processor. It was more advanced than a standard typewriter, but still lacked the spelling or grammar checks now standard on any word processing program. When my second sister departed for college in '99, she took a small desktop computer with her. Equipped with a dial-up modem and the latest Windows operating system, it was the height of technology at the time. Fast forward to my freshman year, and I had my large-screen, high-speed wireless laptop tucked beneath my arm as I checked into my residence hall.
Though they say the significant generation gap between us and our parents decreases with each year, it is apparent that even somewhere between Gen X's emergence from the grunge- fueled '90s and Gen Y's surfacing as neophyte yuppies, the landscape of technology had changed dramatically. While my sister would have to return from class to see if her answering machine was blinking, indicating her latest foolish frat boy had tried to get a hold of her, my cell phone never leaves my pocket, letting me know instantly what is in store for the evening.
To say we are living in the Information Age is already pass?. It doesn't take much imagination to see that we live in an Over-Information Age. Our favorite pastimes include not only stalking the private lives and pictures of celebrities, but of our friends and peers as well.
In 2001, the second World Trade Center tower had already collapsed by the time I'd heard about the attacks on Sept. 11. This weekend Facebook told me my best friend was in a relationship before he had broken the news to me himself.
Information moves so much more swiftly now that our appetite for it has grown to gargantuan proportions. It is no longer enough to know age/stats/location when chatting with a potential friend or lover online (if anyone still does that); we want to know their favorite movies, books, music, religious and political views, activities and jobs, as well as see at least a dozen pictures and who their best friends are. The scary thing is that none of this is hard to come by. But it's not Big Brother gathering information and posting profiles of all our affinities and relationships: We volunteer the data ourselves.
Sometimes the information we fail to share is most important. We fail to select a preference for what gender we're interested in, and all of a sudden the gay community is buzzing about a potential new recruit. We neglect to include a relationship status and rumors of a new boyfriend begin to surface. But with all this information available, one might wonder what role exactly does dating play in our lives anymore.
In college, my sister was known to "love 'em and leave 'em." She assured me that this didn't mean sex, but she still expressed embarrassment that her relationships lasted two months on average. I was shocked that she made it that long. Nowadays we have everything that should have taken two weeks (or at least two dates) to learn evaluated in two minutes. If we make it to a month, it's a relationship. (Or a month-and a half, for the truly cautious.)
So how do we proceed in this age of knowing too much too soon? How do we retain an air of mystery when even our "friend details" can reveal with whom we've slept? A bad reputation by word-of-mouth can be overcome, but when we confirm the rumors ourselves online what's the point of arguing?
Sure, we can set our profiles to private, but who wouldn't confirm their crush's invitation to be friends? If they are on another network, how many of you have used a friend's account to look at their profile? The only way to make sure our private lives stay private is to keep the info offline. We tend to believe about half of what we hear, but seeing it in print is hard to dispute.
After you've overcome online impressions, controlled communication is still key. Too many texts, calls or instant messages, though they appear innocuous, can be more suffocating than spending every night together.
When it's over, you'll notice the texts begin to wane, the messages shortening and the calls becoming infrequent. In the past it might have been just a steady light on the answering machine, but in both cases the silence speaks volumes. The technology may have changed, but the message is the same.
