My Two Desires

When I was a kid, there were two things I wanted more than anything else in the entire world.

The first was maybe a little more obvious: I wanted powers. For whatever reason, the desire to fly or manifest fire or shape shift into different animals was deeply embedded into me, and was the inspiration behind most of my daydreams and stories. It wasn't about having dominance over others or being in control: I desperately wanted the adventure, and the sense of knowing that I was special.

The second wish derived from the same sources (X-Men, Animorphs, etc...all those books and television shows I used to watch when I was young), but was slightly less blatant. I wanted a group. I wanted to be a part of a collection of people who were bonded by a similar goal and destiny, linked by their abilities or by their pasts, who were more than just friends. People who needed and relyed on each other every day, and understood their brethren in a way that no one else could.

I wanted to be a part of something like that.

It's interesting, looking back, how deeply that desire shaped and molded my young life and affects me even today. When I was in middle school and at the peak of my writing production, essentially every story that I wrote involved a "group" of the fashion that I described. They were either bonded by sharing in similar powers, or attending the same underwater boarding school, or fighting the same enemy, but the underlying theme was always the same: with the help of true friends, you can accomplish anything.

And in my actual life, it's very subtly impacted my interactions with other people and my own relationships with my friends. I am attracted to small, close-knit groups of people...I shy away from having numerous half-formed acquaintances with people, in favor of spending the time forging deeper connections with a smaller circle of maybe 5 or 6 people. Subconsciously, I put in effort to bind those people even closer together, by encouraging group outings and inside jokes and songs that remind us of our time together. When I am happiest with the group that I am a part of, it is given a name (ironically, this is not always my creation...many times, it is someone else who initially gives the group a specific name, and then I, loving the idea, roll with it.) In the past, it has been The Square. The Rough Riders. The Triumverate.

And right now, it is The Mafiarage. My group.

Granted, we don't have powers nor a common enemy, put I suppose there is always the chance that we will land ourselves in some nuclear waste and suddenly sprout wings or something, right? (My hometown of East Lyme, Connecticut is 5 miles away from a nuclear power plant. Score!)

The hard thing is that in real life, it's hard keeping a group like that together. It's difficult maintaining contact with people when they start moving away, getting jobs, begin new relationships, or simply change into someone new. It seems like in my past experience, "groups" have an expiration date, have a half life. Eventually, they start breaking apart, quietly and unnoticed. Then, eventually, it is time to find a new group.

I love the people that I am friends with now. They are all amazing, interesting, insane, hilarious, sometimes obnoxious, wonderful people. Every outing is memorable - every night an adventure. I love the Mafiarage and everything it is that we are, and hope, to the depths of my core, that it will be a lasting friendship, because I do believe that there are bonds that withstand the tests of time and distance. I am happy knowing that, despite my lack of powers, part of my wishes have been fulfilled, at least for a time.

And who knows? It may not last forever, but at least I was able to experience that kind of closeness in my life, and look back on it someday and smile. That is the beauty of being a collector of memories and experiences - you can hold on to those forever. So for now, I will enjoy my group, for as long as I have it.

As for the powers: well, you never know.

Social Networking and Social Disconnect

I haven't really written in this blog in a long time -- a lot because of time constraints, a lot because of laziness -- but I somewhat promised someone I would give it another shot, and so here it goes:

Yesterday, Twitter was down. For those of you who may be unfamiliar with it, Twitter is a social networking site which essentially allows people to post short little blurbs about their lives (for example, "I am going to the grocery store right now" or "I'm working right now"), and people read them and are, or act, interested. As I perused CNN.com today, there were no fewer than three separate articles dealing with the fact that people were unable to use their Twitter accounts. While some people laughed the incident off or merely found it an interesting commentary on their dependence on technology, a choice few members were actually deeply disturbed and distraught over the loss of their ability to socially network.

To be honest, news like this initially makes my skin crawl. It seems ridiculous that anyone could be so dependent on a website, such that they feel "disconnected" and "naked" without it. Is it really so vital that we be able to read what everyone we know is doing at any given time, and that they, in turn, know where we are?

And then, my second reaction is more self reflective, as I realize that I too am guilty of such dependence. I can't remember the last time that I was without my cell phone, and the one night that I had forgotten to charge it and it died on me, it turned out to be a huge inconvenience. (Not to mention that several people texted me the next morning asking where I had been and why I hadn't answered them.) This is especially true now that I have upgraded to a smart phone, and have internet and IM capabilities at my fingertips where ever I am. I'm sure that if I was unable to look up movie times or find the lyrics to a song at my whim due to an absent cell phone, I would be irritated and annoyed.

Furthermore, I can't really recall the last time that I went more than a day or two without checking facebook, my e-mail, my Twitter. I now check all of my bank statements online, watch my television programs on my computer, have a blog instead of a diary. Maybe I really am just as dependent on technology and my electronics as those people who felt lost without their favorite social networking site for 24 hours.

Though I know it is the unevitable progression of time and advancement, I guess it makes me a little sad. There's a part of me that misses the days when it was more common to call somebody than to text them (now I think that phone calls have become one of those socially awkward faux pas...sadly it seems rare that I have a phone conversation that seems truely comfortable.) I feel a little nostalgic for the days when I was unreachable by cell phone, and where people didn't feel offended or put off if I didn't respond back to them within a matter of minutes. And maybe this is just me, but I miss sometimes where people didn't have to know where I was at all time, and one could maintain a sense of privacy and mystery about their lives. Everything is so open book now - wide and available for everyone to read.

And though we are so connected now, all the time, I feel like, in a way, this has to lead to an overall sense of disconnect. Shouldn't we be talking in person, rather than through AIM? Shouldn't we be calling them up on the phone to hear their voices, rather than leaving an impersonal comment on their facebook? Shouldn't we be asking our friends what they have been up to lately, rather than already knowing due to a stream of Twitter updates?

Maybe I'm just feeling a little old fashioned. Maybe I'm feeling a little elitist - like I see the world slowly drifting towards a Wall-E-esque existance, while everyone else follows the flow of advancement without a second thought. I know that I am just as dependent on all of it as everybody else.

Who knows? Maybe all this change and renaissance of technology is a good thing.

I just miss some of the simpler pleasures of life that don't need it.