So this is what selling out feels like...

I missed the meeting where this blog was initiated, which is the only fact which is allowing me now to even participate here. (backstory alert) I have railed against the blog as the death knell of meaningful friendships everywhere, whenever given the chance. I have for some time sat smugly watching people at Starbucks sitting at different tables each on their next generation Eniac machines using only 10% of their communicating ability while they 1's and 0's their way into the lives of people who only live in their head. I thought how nice it would be if there were a serendipitous power outage and these individuals would suddenly have to interact with the world and people around them. Surely hilarity would ensue as the awkward conversations about avitars and video cards would evolve into long, very long pauses. So this is what blogging feels like. Writing things while imagining what imaginary people will surely think when they come across my musings. How is this any different from graffiti? Please allow me to wear my hypocrisy on my sleave for some time. I will mature out of it as I learn what an effective way this is to make friends and influence people. See, I just imagined who of our group would get that reference and who wouldn't. I am advancing our friendships now more rapidly as I get to know the imaginary versions of each of you that now live in my head. Meeting together now just has the purpose of referencing my versions of each of you against the actual versions of you, and in case there is a discrepancy, guess which one will win. It is so cold here. No immediate feedback or laughter. No facial expressions. No body language to read. No physical closeness. No handshakes or hugs. No spontaneity. I will grow to be comfortable in this medium, but it will take some time. The imaginary versions of each of you and all our future readers are telling me that it will be all right. I like them. They are so much like me.