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Monica Bielanko
That's What She Said
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Wednesday
Mar182009

Virtual Virginity, Hologram Sex And Other Fears

I'm starting to freak out about the impending return to work. Not so much the return to work but leaving my daughter. I've not left her since she was born. Well, I left her with Serge once to walk around the park and I think another time to dash to the grocery store, but that's it. I need to practice leaving her but I don't want to. At least I know she'll be home with Serge and not some germy daycare.

I'm still feeling a bit down about various things. Again, I don't think it's postpartum depression although I think Serge is secretly convinced it is. Once again, I've put off seeing a therapist. I just don't want to go yammer about my shit. Isn't that what a blog is for? But I'm drawing the line at blogging for fucksakes. All the technology via the nets is driving me mad. MySpace, Facebook, Twittering. It's all just too fucking much. It creeps me out, man. I like to be lost in the world, not found every damn second. I like to wonder what happened to so-and-so from high school, not be able to find 8x10 glossy pics of them on MySpace. Additionally, I don't think my friends need to know what I'm doing every ten minutes. "Walking the dog." Tweet! "Changing Violet's diaper. You should see the size of this poop!" Tweet! Don't we go on walks, hikes and vacations to disconnect? Jesus. (Not Madonna's boyfriend, Jesus... the alleged Son of God Jesus). And all the folks trying to be witty or as P Diddy (the self-proclaimed king of twitter) says; inspiring. What a tool. Yet there are tens of thousands of douchebags following Diddy, thrilled to be hanging out in Mom's basement or wherever and get a "motivational" text from the king of all douchebags.

Yeah, yeah - I had a MySpace page once upon a time. And then I realized what a time suck and wondered why I had a page. To keep in touch with old friends? No. Who needs a MySpace friendship, the new millennium equivalent of an answering machine relationship? They leave a comment. You comment back. Occasionally talk about how you should get together sometime. Blah Blah Blah. Ultimately I ended up posting shitloads of ridiculous pics of myself and just generally spending way too much time changing up my own page. Eventually I came to my senses and just took myself off the whole damn grid.

It all freaks me out for Violet. What kind of technology is she going to be whining for? Will we all have holograms of ourselves and never leave the house because we just visit each other via hologram? The holograms won't really look like us, they'll be ten pounds lighter and all photoshopped. And all the worry that your teen may be up in her room having hologram sex with her boyfriend? It will be the new blow job or ass sex for religious girls. You know, because God doesn't count those or hologram sex as losing your virginity.

I need to move to a cabin in the woods.