To the best friends I've never met

The first step toward recovery is admitting you have a problem.

Ladies and gentleman, I have a problem.

I, Alisha, am an Internet junkie. I crave breaking news alerts. I drool over wi-fi hot spots. I have over 10 e-mail addresses. The World Wide Web has been my little escape since 1995, back when America Online dialup was the only Internet.

In this day of constant connectivity, I’m fascinated by the interpersonal relationships formed through tiny cable wires and global satellites.

I have people who I’ve been chatting with via instant messenger for more than 10 years, and I've never met them or talked to them over the phone. I consider some of them to be my closest friends. Gosh, just typing that makes me feel funny. It’s like “friends” are supposed to be people you go shopping with, or who you call to say you’re gonna be late to the bar that night; they’re not supposed to be the people who send you birthday cards via e-mail or who make you smile by finding and posting the craziest YouTube links.

The proliferation of social unity sites and numerous e-mail hosts have made keeping up with family and friends easier than driving to the post office to buy a stamp (psssst, you can print off stamps at home now).

It might sound cheesy, but I’m thankful for the Internet and for my web addiction. Without it, I wouldn’t have received e-mails from my Grandmother in Michigan or Snapfish links to my friend’s vacation photos or IMs from my own husband while we’re working.