Last Drive 'round the '05

Wow. It's the end of another year. Thankfully, this year, I have plans in advance for the eve of 2006. This is a real first. Hopefully, everything works out.

The photo. So, it's still Chanukah (yay). It's the menorah at Columbia University, right where I go to school and, heaven permitting, where I'll be living in two weeks time.

And, now ... the last kvech of the year ... it’s the latest thing. Or, maybe it’s not. The last few weeks, I’ve realized that I am one in a group of people who doesn’t use “Instant Messenger,” the source of networked windows that allow friends to type to one another via the Internet. In middle school, I remember people chatting all the time. This was, of course, before we had cars, jobs, in short, before we had lives. Was I the only one who left behind the IM phase along with video games and hair dying?

The odd thing is that the presence of the IM thing has become all the more prevalent as I have met adults in the City. In a city as cosmopolitan as New York, how could a not so cosmo trend take root? When did it become chic to chat?

Daniel and I have recently had many conversations about this IM “movement.” Before we met, he spent every, and he claims every, evening on Instant Messenger. All the friends with whom he currently communicates (and even his mother) are often on-line. When I came into the picture, I figured that it was only one part of his on-line experience, you know, like e-mail or Friendster. Clearly, this was not the case.

Soon, most of his friends became disgruntled. “Why aren’t you on-line?” “Where have you been?” What had changed? Instead of downloading, he was now dating. Tragic? His roommate, how was also on IM, would relay messages to him from their mutual friends beseeching him to return to their corner of the cyber world's school cafeteria. It was remarkable! No one would call him. Because of me, Daniel became information superhighway road-kill. If he received any communication, it was through his roommate or via e-mail.

Daniel’s on-line leave of absence prompted his mother to call more, which I figured any other friend worth having would do after we had been seeing each other for a couple of months. Alas, the only people to actually check up on my boyfriend were his mother and his brother.

Now, I’m the bitch who’s taken Daniel away from his internet buds, most of whom also live in the New York. It’s outrageous. Someone, anyone, please call my boyfriend! This isn’t just him, though. Anywhere I go, almost anyone I meet asks me, “Are you on IM?” Am I really the not-so-cool one?

After some thinking, I can acknowledge that I too have a desire to be progressive. I want to be inclusive of those whose daily social interactions consist of typing into multiple windows. In the end, I realized that I am fabulous, even without the IM hang-up. Until these chatters own a Christian Dior blazer or Prada-for-Passover accessories, it really doesn’t matter what programs they have downloaded on their hard drives. I suppose it’s harder to get out there and just live. That’s what I’m doing. (We’re in NYC, for heaven’s sakes.) As long as they remain in front of their computers, they’ll always be hidden from view, just the way I prefer it.