-Last week I found myself alone, disoriented, and holding a hand grenade.  I was alone because I had lost my friends on Bourbon Street in the midst of Triplet #1’s bachelor party.  The hand grenade was not an explosive, of course, but rather the famed half-yard glass full of alcohol exclusive to New Orleans.  And I was disoriented because I’d had four of them.  When I finally arrived at the bar where my friends had been headed at the time we got separated, they asked me how I found them.  I told them I asked someone for directions – forgetting that what I actually did was use the Google Maps application on my BlackBerry to locate my position via GPS, and then stumble off in the right direction.  Though full-fledged virtual reality may still be a work in progress, when we accidentally confuse technology with real life (even while hammered), the future has truly arrived.

-I often find myself ignoring people on instant messenger just like I would on the phone.  While I’m in the midst of doing something else, I absent-mindedly follow the IM and occasionally type: really?  uh huh… LOL! and hope those phrases make sense in context.   Sometimes I’ll ignore someone on the phone and someone else on IM simultaneously.  Now that’s multitasking.

-If I’m not paying attention while typing something in Word, it will sometimes suggest then automatically insert a contact from my address book.  This often results in such eloquent sentences as: “I don’t have to drink to have a good Time Warner Cable.”

-Getting the multi-ball capsule on BrickBreaker is both a blessing and a curse.  I try to keep all the balls in play but inevitably get distracted and end up with none.

-It doesn’t get more desperate than joining a dating web site and under religion selecting  “willing to convert.”

-Out of curiosity, I recently turned off Google’s SafeSearch setting.  Whatever terms I search for – no matter how innocuous – now result in a journey through the most depraved recesses of the Internet.  SafeSearch back on!

-If you don’t know me well enough to realize that I possess neither the time, inclination, or need to join Linkedin, then you certainly don’t know me well enough to send me an invitation to join.

-Please do not text, email, Twitter, BBM, or IM me that you have “something really important to tell me.”  Just fucking tell me.  That way when you inevitably lose cell service or your Internet connection goes down just before revealing the news, I’m not left waiting there with bated breath, wondering what you’re about to rock my world with.  And when you finally reconnect, so help me if what you had to say was frivolous at best.  You will be ignored both online and off.

-When you call a cab in Los Angeles and give them your number, their system automatically tells you when and where you were last picked up.  It can be a useful tool for locating belongings lost after a one-night stand, or returning to a bar you were too blacked out to remember.  It’s a decidedly low-tech advancement, but one whose impact cannot be ignored.  After all, GPS can tell you you’re in a ditch, but it can’t tell you how you got there in the first place.

-As always, here are some random things I’ve been ruminating about lately…

-What would happen if I hired two private investigators to follow each other?

-What is the proper way to greet a small child?  I have no idea what to do when I see any of my cousins between the ages of four and ten.  Cheek kiss?  Handshake?  Hug?  Fist bump?  Ah, yes, the salutation that transcends age: the high five.

-I don’t care if you used to run track in college – you’re a girl and therefore I can beat you in anything athletic.  I will race you any distance.  Just name the time and place and give me two to three years to get back into shape.

-Why do my wealthiest friends complain about the economy the most?

-What is the point of the Blue Jays and Orioles even fielding a team this year?

-A recent study has shown that playing beer pong contributes to the spread of mono and the flu. Yeah, if you suck at it.

-You know you’ve gained weight when you get dressed to go out for the night but leave your jeans unbuttoned until the last possible moment.

-Why do overpriced “boutique” hotels assume I want a shower with no door?

-A Holocaust movie can be powerful, enlightening, and heart-wrenching.  What it can’t be is an appropriate choice to play on the television in the gym.  I’m talking to you, Mr. No Common Sense running next to me on the treadmill yesterday.  For the love of God, I’m training to race a girl here!

-I am a twenty-nine-year-old Ivy League graduate.  But I did not realize until several weeks ago that you’re supposed to leave conditioner in for a few minutes and not just wash it out right away like you do with shampoo.  The very foundations of my daily routine have been rocked, but my hair has never been so silky or smooth.

-And, finally, I rarely if ever get heckled at my stand-up shows.  I do, however, occasionally encounter fans so hammered they just yell out unintelligibly.  While drunken belligerence is encouraged (and is in fact the subject of much of my act), when it affects the enjoyment of the rest of the audience, it’s time for me to take action.  First, I warn the offender to shut the fuck up, which usually draws cheers from the crowd.  Should the interruptions continue, I observe the offender, taking note of his or her appearance, demeanor, and choice of drink.  Next, I engage the offender, tearing him or her a new asshole while making them wish they were never born.  Lastly, I turn my attention to the offender’s nearby buddies, who also deserve blame for not regulating their companion in the first place.  Friends don’t let friends be douchebags in public.  Friends do, on the other hand, abandon friends on Bourbon Street.  Fuck me!

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