Before we get started today, I should probably make a few things clear. I will preface this article by saying that I do, in fact, appreciate the cyber universe and probably use my Blackberry as much or more than any of you on a regular basis. I can’t deny that I check for Facebook updates every ten minutes, or that I was peer pressured into creating a Twitter. My lament today is that we have become all too obsessed with technology, obscuring the lines between reality and its technologically mediated counterpart. Essentially, everyone needs to log off and live a little.

As I said, I make use of technology, I like technology, and, hell, I even understand technology for the most part (thank you Communication department) — but it has to stop somewhere. Between BBMs, e-mails, instant messages, text messages, tweets, posts, statuses and requests, how are we supposed to make time for real life? It’s as if we can’t simply enjoy the moment we are living in, but rather, we must always think about how to next “cybertextualize” it.

Don’t recognize this action verb? That’s because I made it up. Think: “I need to tweet this,” “that would make a great status” and “hey, that’s my new album title!” We seem to be so infatuated with letting everyone know what we’re doing that we forget to actually enjoy what we’re doing!

For instance, many of us have enabled Facebook and Twitter Mobile. Not only can we let everyone know what we’re up to at any point in time, but we can also see what all of our friends and followers are up to, minute to minute.

But when did our lives get so dismal that we actually had to care? Wasn’t it once exciting to log in to Facebook, once in awhile, and see what changed since last you visited? Wasn’t playing Snake once the highlight of owning a mobile phone? I ask today what the rush is; the Internet isn’t going anywhere! But your time sure is.

Then there’s the obsession with the newest and best of technology’s offerings. We are shocked all over again by mobile devices lacking broadband capabilities, offended by those we can’t add to a contact list of sorts.

Though I got away with hiding from Twitter for quite awhile, the pressure to join Gchat is mounting. While technology certainly can enhance communication and information transfer, some tech nerds have taken it too far. Please, stop yourselves before you are tempted to download iSnort to your iPhones; God knows you’ve got better things to do than snort pretend cocaine off your cellular device.

Another stressor for an already anxiety ridden society is the notion that, with today’s extensive technology, you really can’t hide. Like, ever. Between cellular phones with mobile e-mail and Internet, and status updates broadcasted to everyone and their mothers, there are simply too many ways to reach and be reached.

We rely too much on technology to find people and communicate messages, while, interestingly, we often have trouble interpreting such technologically mediated messages in the first place. Statuses can mean anything, texts can be confusing and tweets misconstrued. What if we — oh, I don’t know — spoke to each other once in awhile?

Making technological connections, as opposed to real, human ones, is the central idea behind today’s complaint. The fact is, when we can get in touch instantly with friends and family in more ways than we can count, thinking about chatting on the telephone — or in person! — is one of the last modes of communication to come to mind.

This summer, for example, I had an eye opening experience. I met a boy, we hit it off, and he called me to ask me to dinner. Simple as that — yet I was taken aback! When was the last time someone picked up a phone to call me, much less, to use one to ask me out? How polite this boy must be, I thought … or how five years ago? Way more effort than a meager few words typed into a text or e-mail, a phone call, in comparison, seems thoughtful and almost antiquated. For me, at least, the realization was slightly disconcerting.

It may have started with the iPod; walking down the street became first anonymous and isolated. Now, we can be impolite and antisocial no matter where we are. With BBMs at dinner and tweets as we cross the street, is has become possible to occupy our own cyber bubbles, no matter the time of day. While I can’t stop you from tweeting and wouldn’t dare touch your ’Berry, I urge you — talk to a human today.