On Friday, I don’t have any classes, but I still woke up pretty early to check on some necessary stuff for this semester. Namely, I flipped open my computer to get on Amazon Prime and order three books for a film class I’m taking. I order books from here all the time. If I wanted to deny that, I probably couldn’t do so with much conviction. Why’s that? Oh, because of the very convenient, very invasive “Recommended For You” and “Buy It Again” sections that pop up on my computer whenever I visit Amazon.com. I’ve noticed that, perhaps, I’ve become addicted to and maybe even reliant upon the efficiency of this site. Free shipping? Absolutely. And, in just two days? There is a god.<\/p>\n
Prior to the class discussions thus far, I have actually given some thought to my presence online. It started in sixth grade when I sneakily created a Myspace account and then lied to my parents about it after my older sister sold me out. There was a theatre-worthy conversation about the importance of protecting my information, myself. I deleted my account. Whatever.<\/p>\n
Anyway, as I looked at Amazon’s suggestions that presented themselves to me left and right, I thought more deeply about what my online purchases say about me. That I love books and organic shea butter? That I can’t stop, won’t stop buying them? Nubian Heritage Shea Butter with Lemon Grass and Tea Tree Oil was–and probably still is–just one click away from being bought again and shipped to me in two days if I bought it within those next nine hours. I told myself that I really didn’t need anything else right then, and I kicked myself off Amazon.<\/p>\n
But, then I was bored. I kind of wanted to look at clothes online. I work in retail, so I get a discount at a few different stores. This fact often justifies many purchases I make from exploring Free People’s online catalog. In fact, this specific store has a predominantly online presence, so I’m already screwed in that way. So, I’m scrolling through the dresses and contemplating what I might want to wear to a wedding in September of this year. Then: I realize I am broke and ridiculous, and I should stop gawking at all the beautiful, flow-y dresses.<\/p>\n
Get on Facebook, my brain said. Check Facebook.<\/p>\n
I logged into my Facebook account, and what happens to me but a cyber-attack from Free People models in the cool, Free People clothes popping up on the right side of my screen? How obnoxious!\u00a0Stupid, save your money. Save. Your. Money<\/em>, I thought. I ignored the advertisements, realizing that the internet is one big stalker we can never fully escape. Suddenly, my best friend’s upload of pictures came up in my newsfeed. I clicked through the pictures, wasting my time, before I decided to text her. I needed her opinion on some dresses for a wedding I have to go to… Eventually.<\/p>\n I logged off Facebook, sensing that I’d already let too much of my morning be spent on the computer. Yet, as I shut the screen of my laptop, I contemplated what just three different sites managed to say about me. My online presence has established my personal style, my literary tastes. Can the internet pick out my outfit for me tomorrow? Can the internet pick out what books I’ll want for summer reading? Can somebody psycho-analyze little me based off Big Data? Am I reduced to my online presence, even just part of it?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" On Friday, I don’t have any classes, but I still woke up pretty early to check on some necessary stuff for this semester. Namely, I flipped open my computer to get on Amazon Prime and order three books for a film class I’m taking. I order books from here all the time. If I wanted
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