Category Archives: communication

Nothing Like a Happy Ending

By LRC

“It’s the little things.” An expression my father often employs in times where insignificant events result in incomprehensible happiness. And this story is no different…

It was a hot, sweaty Tuesday in the Murray Hill area. As I passed pissed-off ‘9-to-5’ers, I walk back to my shoebox of an apartment knowing that my light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel is just minutes away. I had waited countless hours for this moment of glory: a moment that had taken all night long to prepare, a moment for which I had worked my fingers to the bone. As I opened my freezer to find my favorite summer delicasse, Fla-Vor-Ice freezer pops, to my horror, I find 16 frozen pops (6 fruity flavors), and only ONE (1) blue one.

While I can understand and do appreciate the few exceptions, most folks have a general understanding that blue is the flavor of choice for all who have working taste buds. In a word, I was shocked– flabbergasted, even, that this company to whom I have been a dedicated, long-term patron would present me with a box of mere disappointment. 16 frozen pops, and 6 fruity flavors??? Well, I’m no Einstein, but 16 fruity pops divided by 6 fruity flavors is at the very least, 2 pops per flavor, per box.

In the heat of my frustration, I sent the following letter to Jel-Sert, the Fla-Vor-Ice manufacturing company:

To whom it may concern at Jelsert, the Fla-vor-ice manufacturing company,

After an 11 hour day slaving for a corporation, I come home to find my favorite, fruity, flavorful, frozen treat. In the past, I have consistently been satisfied with your product. In my eyes, your product’s track record has been immaculate, as nothing slaps a smile on my face quite like a slushy, refreshing, blue, Berry Punch Fla-vor-ice.

Today, however, was a different day; a sad day. I come home to my box of 16 colors of tasty wonder only to discover a single, sad, lonely, blue Fla-vor-ice: merely a solitary soldier drowning in a hopeless sea of red, purple, pink and orange.

‎In the future, for hard working Americans like myself, please make my day by ensuring at the very least, an equal amount of each color.

I would hate to have to regret expressing my undying love and affection towards what I believe is pure happiness. After all, I only hope to continue purchasing my $1.99 magical box of six equally-balanced fruity flavors.

‎Needless to say, tonight for me was a very blue one.

Perhaps an entire box of Berry Punch Fla-vor-ice will turn my frown upside-down. Otherwise, I fear nothing will mend this broken heart.

Regretfully yours,
L.R.C.

Understanding such solid customer loyalty in such poor economic times, the folks at Jel-Sert sent me a lengthy explanation and description of the process, not to mention 3 free boxes of Fla-Vor-Ice.

Needless to say, I will continue to purchase this fun frozen treat, remembering that good customer service goes a long way, and that nothing tops off a fruity, flavorful story quite like a happy ending.

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The Average Age of a Facebook User Is…

By Steve Pessah

Facebook started as a network for Harvard students to connect (was thefacebook in the beginning). Then, it opened up to other universities, then high school students were given the keys to the kingdom (ugh, that was a bummer at the time). Soon enough it was open to everyone. Your parents could now find you both physically and virtually. There was no place to hide.

Fast forward to now, and parents being on Facebook isn’t such a big deal anymore. I’m Facebook friends with my parents, extended family, and even some of my old high school teachers. From the start, Facebook could only get older, not younger.

38 is now the average age of a Facebook user. Flowtown, the company that put together a great infographic seen below, found out that the vast majority of users are now older than 38 years old.

What does this mean for the youngins who used to run to the Facebook community to get away from mommy and daddy? Your parents are now there waiting for you, along with potential employers, and even that crazy aunt who always calls but can’t get through to you because of caller ID.

Hide those racy pictures of you from college, watch what your friends say on your wall, and get ready for the first holiday dinner via Facebook video chat (should be here by the end of the year.. just a prediction).

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Text Message Psychology for the Contemporary College Student

Text Message Psychology for the Contemporary College Student

By Lauren R. Camhe

I’m sure there are various accounts of how this disastrous, yet wonderful whirlwind of communication came into play. For me, it all started with a NOKIA cell phone, a witty Carson Daly commercial, and dream of a messaging system subtle enough to form relationships in class, and dangerous enough to destroy someone’s own meaning of social consciousness in 160 characters or less.

Regardless of what history says, boys and girls alike have witnessed the effects of the intangibly excellent, standard messaging service.  These effects are as life-shaping as they are confidence-boosting, but when things go bad, they can erupt in catastrophic embarrassment only on par with what Mariah Carey must have felt after her debut in the movie Glitter.

I am no stranger to the queasy feeling that accompanies a text message gone wrong.  I’ve regretted pressing send more times than Paris Hilton has attempted to discover personal talent.  In fact, I’ve probably spent more hours in waiting for late-night, text-based, booty call responses than I’ve spent in class here at the University of Delaware, but despite my own experiences, perhaps the only way to truly convey the psychological elements of text messaging is to demonstrate with some typical, textual situations.

SITUATION A:

Bob and Jane, two college students, have been consistently having sex for about a month.  After their last encounter, Jane doesn’t see Bob for 4 days, and on a whim, decides to send him a text message which she feels is appropriate, honest, and seemingly mysterious:

*Text Message to Bob from Jane, 10:13 pm:

“What r u doing tonite?”

After a steady 25 minutes of waiting, the following is probably meandering through Jane’s mind:

“Why the fuck isn’t he responding?”

“Is he not feeling this anymore?  He told me I was such a good bone.”

“Maybe I should just have sex with someone he knows so he can see what a hot piece of ass I am.”

By 10:45, Jane is most likely starting to feel slightly neglected and down on herself.  While at this time, Bob may just be busy playing a hot round of Madden with the boys, it is still not stated clearly enough to stop Jane’s slow transformation into a crazy bitch.

After a solid 40 minutes and 14 seconds of psychosomatic self-doubt, Jane receives a text message from Bob:

*Text Message to Jane from Bob, 10:53 pm:

“Nothing really, probably just doing some work and then hanging out.”

After Bob’s text message, it is likely that Jane can’t help but come to another series of abrupt conclusions:

“Why doesn’t he want to hang out with me?  He didn’t even ask what I was doing.”

“Fuck him, I’m totally getting with one of his friends this weekend.”

“I’m getting so fucked up tonight.”

Ironically enough, Bob is probably just doing some work and then hanging out with his friends.  His lapse of time between texts coupled with his inability to follow-up on what Jane is doing has driven her to make such rash decisions out of spite.  Say Jane decides to proceed with option number three, and after an inebriated epiphany, texts Bob again with a typical, overly sexual statement that couldn’t be any clearer.

*Drunk text message from Jane to Bob, 12:29 am:

“Let’s fuck.”

After Bob neglects to respond, not only is Jane filled with qualms that Bob no longer has or could have any interest in her pathetic self, but she also has an accurate, textual account as documentation of her dumb-drunk-whore mannerisms.  Needless to say, Bob is deleted from Jane’s phone for eternity, but her best friend hangs on to his digits just in case.

SITUATION B:

After hours of searching, Danny has almost given up in his quest to find marijuana in his vicinity.  Just then, he remembers “Smalls,” a dealer he used to know from sophomore year of college.  Because Danny is in desperation, he decides to send Smalls a text in hope of a response, but acknowledges that he will probably have to venture to the mean streets of his college town.

*Text Message to Smalls from Danny, 11:02 pm:

“Yo Smalls, what’s good?  You got any bud?”

After 10 minutes, Smalls responds with the following:

*Text Message to Danny from Smalls, 11:13 pm:

“Not yet but I’m getting in 20 mins”

Danny quickly replies:

*Text Message to Smalls from Danny, 11:14 pm:

“Word. Let me know and I’ll come through.”

An hour passes, and Danny feels as if Smalls neglected to tell him the real deal due to his brief, unfriendly text message, and thus, decides to re-ask the question.  Danny waits another hour, and instead of taking the time to call Smalls, contemplates the following:

“What a dick.”

“Holy shit.  What if he got shot?”

“Fuck, maybe the cops found his phone and found my number and now I’m going to jail for looking  for weed and I won’t graduate college, there goes my future…and I still don’t have weed.”

Maybe Smalls’ phone died and he wasn’t able to respond.  Maybe Smalls was tired, and just fell asleep.  Either way, Danny is now flustered based on Smalls’ text message etiquette, or lack there of.

SITUATION C:

Samantha is upset because her best friend Gina’s boyfriend said she was annoying.  She is told of this occurrence by their other friend, Penny, through a text message.

*Text message to Samantha from Penny, 3:04 pm:

“Don’t tell anyone but I heard that Alex said you were really annoying last night. That’s so fucked up.”

Instantly, Samantha reacts in horror.

*Text message to Penny from Samantha, 3:05 pm:

“What the fuck does that mean?  I don’t get how he thinks I’m annoying. I’m never anything but nice to him. He’s such a dick.  What exactly did he say?”

After 5 minutes, Samantha reiterates her imminent curiosity with a double-question mark (??), which we all know is the equivalent to a “cherry bomb” in a given thumb war.  After no response from Penny for another 15 minutes, Samantha is not only infuriated and insecure, but instead of replying to Penny again, she mistakenly proceeds to send this:

*Text message to Gina from Samantha, 3:28 pm:

“Like what the fuck did I ever do to him that he would say I was annoying to my best friend.  I can’t believe she told you this but not me.  She’s such a bitch.”

After this text message is sent, it is likely that Samantha is pondering this:

“Oh fuck.”

“I’m a retard.”

“This is what I get for texting on too much Adderall.”

Over the years, we’ve all had experienced a war of the words, and we have all had to deal with the aftermath of a text message-gone-wrong.  The baggage of a text delay, the frustration of a textual misunderstanding, or the fatal error in a message sent to the very person you were talking about may indeed result in catastrophe; but after all is said and done, without the phenomenon of the text message, my life wouldn’t be half as enjoyable or entertaining…and I’m not just referring to my affinity for late-night booty calls.

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