From: Gina Miller (nanogirl@halcyon.com)
Date: Tue Mar 14 2000 - 16:58:06 MST
Are you an Internet Addict? You know you Live Online when...
You have worn out all the letters on your keyboard.
Wife calls you to dinner by posting to alt.food.
I.V. stand next to your mini tower.
Choice between paying Compuserve bill and paying for kids' education is
easy--if a little painful for your kids.
Your big pickup line is, "Haven't we chatted together online before?"
Batteries in the TV remote now last for months.
You hire a housekeeper for your home page.
New mail alarm on your palmtop annoys other churchgoers.
Your mouse-clicking forearm rivals Popeye's.
Your ISP names you Customer of the Month for the third consecutive time.
You unsuccessfully try to download pizza from www.dominos.com.
Your family conducts an intervention via e-mail and checks you into
www.bettyford.com.
You rig your toilet to alert you if you receive any new mail while you're
"offline."
You're surprised to learn there's also a 2 o'clock in the *afternoon*.
You actually wore a blue ribbon to protest the Communications Decency Act.
You kiss your girlfriend's home page.
Your bookmark list takes 15 minutes to scroll from top to bottom.
Your eyeglasses have a web site burned into them.
You find yourself brainstorming for new subjects to search.
You refuse to go to a vacation spot with no electricity and no phone lines.
You finally do take that vacation, but only after buying a cellular modem
and a laptop.
You spend half of the plane trip with your laptop on your lap...and your
child in the overhead compartment.
All your daydreaming is preoccupied with getting a faster connection to the
net: 28.8...ISDN...cable modem...T1...T3.
You dream in HTML if you're a web programmer.
You find yourself typing "com" after every period when using a word
processor.com
You turn off your modem and get this awful empty feeling, like you just
pulled the plug on a loved one.
You refer to going to the bathroom as downloading.
You start introducing yourself as "John at I-I-Net dot net dot.com"
Your heart races faster and beats irregularly each time you see a new WWW
site address in print or on TV, even though you've never had heart problems
before.
You step out of your room and realize that your parents have moved and you
don't have a clue when it happened.
You turn on your intercom when leaving the room so you can hear if new
e-mail arrives.
Your wife drapes a blond wig over your monitor to remind you of what she
looks like.
When looking at a pageful of someone else's links, you notice all of them
are already highlighted in purple.
Your dog has its own home page.
You've already visited all the links at Yahoo and you're halfway through
Lycos.
You can't call your mother...she doesn't have a modem.
You realize there is not a sound in the house and you have no idea where
your children are.
You believe nothing looks sexier than a man in boxer shorts illuminated only
by a 17" inch svga monitor.
You check your mail. It says "no new messages." So you check it again.
You refer to your age as 3.x.
You have comandeered your teenager's phone line for the net and even his
friends know not to call on his line anymore.
Your phone bill comes to your doorstep in a box.
Even though you died last week, you've managed to retain OPS on your
favorite IRC channel.
You code your homework in HTML and give your instructor the URL.
You don't know what sex over three of your closest friends are, because they
have neutral nicknames and you never bothered to ask.
You name your children Eudora, Mozilla and Dotcom.
Your husband tells you he's had the beard for 2 months.
You miss more than five meals a week downloading the latest games from
Apogee.
You start looking for hot HTML addresses in public restrooms.
You wake up at 3 a.m. to go to the bathroom and stop and check your e-mail
on the way back to bed.
You move into a new house and decide to Netscape before you landscape.
You tell the cab driver you live at
http://123.elm.street/house/bluetrim.html
You actually look up the 123.elm.street web address after you gave it to the
cab driver.
Your virtual girlfriend finds a new net sweetheart with a larger bandwidth.
You tell the kids they can't use the computer because "Daddy's got work to
do" and you don't even have a job.
Your friends no longer send you e-mail...they just log on to your IRC
channel.
You buy a Captain Kirk chair with a built-in keyboard and mouse.
Your wife makes a new rule: "The computer cannot come to bed."
You are so familiar with the WWW that you find the search engines useless.
You get a tattoo that says "This body best viewed with Netscape 4.0 or
higher."
You never have to deal with busy signals when calling your ISP...because you
never log off.
The last girl you picked up was a jpeg.
You put a pillow case over your laptop so your lover doesn't see it while
you are pretending to catch your breath.
You ask a plumber how much it would cost to replace the chair in front of
your computer with a toilet.
You forget what year it is.
You start tilting your head sideways to smile.
You ask your doctor to implant a gig in your brain.
You leave the modem speaker on after connecting because you think it sounds
like the ocean wind...the perfect soundtrack for "surfing the net".
You begin to wonder how on earth your service provider is allowed to call
200 hours per month "unlimited."
You turn on your computer and turn off your wife.
Your wife says communication is important in a marriage...so you buy another
computer and install a second phone line so the two of you can chat.
As your car crashes through the guardrail on a mountain road, your first
instinct is to search for the "back" button.
The remote to the T.V. is missing...and you don't even care.
The last time you looked at the clock it was 11:30pm, and in what seems like
only a few seconds later, your sister runs past you to catch her 7am school
bus.
You create a homepage with the impression to cure the afflicted...but your
hidden agenda is to receive more e-mail.
Your hard drive crashes. You haven't logged on in two hours. You start to
twitch. You pick up the phone and manually dial your ISPs access number. You
try to hum to communicate with it. You succeed.
(GUILTY!!)
Gina "Nanogirl" Miller
Nanotechnology Industries
http://www.nanoindustries.com
Personal
http://www.nanogirl.com
nanogirl@halcyon.com
"Nanotechnology: Solutions for the future."
This archive was generated by hypermail 2.1.5 : Fri Nov 01 2002 - 15:27:24 MST