We're constantly bombarded with advice advocating for building bridges, fostering connections and maintaining relationships, no matter how strained. The prevailing wisdom dictates that you should never burn bridges because you never know when you might need them.
For a long time, I felt like I was failing at… well, everything, if I wasn't constantly plugged into the 24-7 news cycle.
I haven’t spent much time in the online dating scene. Why? Because it would probably lead to conflict in my house and many nights sleeping alone.
Spring is a great time to reconnect with people and catch up. In recent weeks, I’ve been in touch with people from my past. It was similar to the start of the pandemic when many of us scrolled through our phone and/or social media and randomly reached out to people we hadn’t had contact with in a while.
I love technology. Let me get that out of the way right upfront.
As smartphone technology began to evolve and seemingly make every daily task possible to manage and/or complete from the palm of your hand, I was hooked. Now, as it continues to invade our lives I'm gradually -- maybe not gradually, so much as abruptly -- stepping back.
Dancing Towards Diabetes: My Quest for a Glamorous Disease
I'm starting to feel like I've stumbled into a parallel universe where the language is vaguely familiar, but the meaning is completely and utterly lost on me.
There are a few things on social media that make me laugh: people announcing "a break" (even though you know damn well they're still creeping, they're just not posting), relationship drama, vacation photos with people clutching their phone on the beach (because they can't enjoy nature for what it is) and meet-and-greet concert pics (explanation below).
I've noticed something lately, a creeping phenomenon that's making me question the very fabric of our appreciation rituals. (I'm not even talking about tipping because that's another issue.)
When you're a kid, you love looking at the monthly school calendar and seeing the upcoming field trips, the early dismissals and the days off. As a parent, you might enjoy seeing some of those things.
In a world where consumers are constantly bombarded with new fees – from banking to data overage on a cellphone plan – the last thing I want to do is pay to be a customer. Remember when it used to be good enough just to spend your hard-earned money with a company? That’s not sufficient nowadays.
We’re constantly told that higher education is the key to a better future, a thriving society and personal fulfillment. Essentially, it's painted as a public good that benefits everyone. So, why in the world does it cost more than a down payment on a house these days?
I strongly believe that parents should be held accountable for feeding their children, both at home and at school. Schools should focus on providing a quality education, not becoming a substitute for responsible parenting.
It seems like every time I open my phone, I'm bombarded with another celebrity announcing their new podcast. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good podcast. I find them informative, entertaining and a great way to pass the time.
I don't know about you, but I've noticed a peculiar phenomenon engulfing our lives: we've become utterly, irrevocably, photo crazy. It's not just about capturing special moments anymore; it feels like we're documenting every single mundane breath we take. And frankly, I'm starting to wonder if this endless stream of digital documentation is actually enriching our lives, or just creating a massive, overwhelming digital black hole.
We live in a hyper-connected world, a world seemingly glued to our screens, endlessly scrolling through the curated realities presented by social media. It’s become so ingrained in our daily lives that the mere suggestion of its absence might be met with outrage and cries of censorship. But I ask you, have we truly considered the potential benefits of a society unshackled from the grip of these platforms? Would outlawing social media, as radical as it sounds, really be a bad thing?
I’ve been a silent observer (and occasionally, a bewildered participant) in a particular brand of human interaction that honestly, just tickles my funny bone. I’m talking about the high-drama, low-effort tactics people employ when they want to end an argument, or rather, declare an argument over, usually with themselves as the undisputed victor.
Lately, I've had this nagging thought, this ever-present question bubbling beneath the surface of every news report and political commentary I consume. It’s a thought that, frankly, leaves me more confused than ever about how our government actually works, and I suspect I’m not alone.
I'm struck by a disturbing trend. It seems like everywhere I look, parents are relying more and more on phones and technology to teach, entertain and even soothe their kids.
We’ve all heard of them: the five love languages. (At least, single people have. Our married bosses hadn't.)
I’ve had an epiphany recently, a moment of clarity that connects two seemingly disparate observations: the astronomical rise in digital ad revenue for giants like YouTube, Facebook and Instagram, and the bafflingly irrelevant ads that pollute my own feeds. And honestly, it boils down to something both simple and infuriating: a significant chunk of these platforms’ burgeoning wealth comes from advertisers who are, quite frankly, throwing away their money.
For most of my adult life, my relationship with spelling and grammar could best be described as... estranged. Or perhaps, more accurately, non-existent. I was the kind of person who saw a misplaced apostrophe and thought, "Eh, you get the gist." A comma splice? "It adds character!" And don't even get me started on 'their,' 'there,' and 'they're' – a linguistic Bermuda Triangle that I happily navigated with blissful ignorance.
“Your triggers are your responsibility. It isn’t the world’s obligation to tiptoe around you.”
