I rather enjoy thinking of myself as a Luddite of sorts. I don’t have blue tooth. I don’t text message. I actually don’t care a whole lot about the cell phone thing overall – I lost mine for about four days last week, and for three of those days I didn’t even realize it was missing.
I like to ride my bike instead of drive, if possible. I prefer NPR to TV as a general rule. And I really, really wish that e-mail didn’t exist. If there was a way to have the Internet – SWEET INTERNET! – but no e-mail, I would be all over that like, well, like bloggers on Internet. Fo’ real.
However, I realized that thinking of myself this way is fundamentally flawed, and not just because I love my mac laptop more than most people love their cats.
This epiphany jumped up and rudely smacked me in the face (because 19th century British textile artisian revolutionaries can be bitches like that) when I realized I had accidentally left my iPod at work over the weekend.
And then I realized that I would have to go on ahead and throw myself down to the ground, prostrate in grief for two straight days. Because what else can you possibly do with yourself if you can’t have Ira Glass whisper sweet podcast nothings DIRECTLY into your ear every morning, I ask you?!?!?