An addictive relationship

I have a love-hate relationship with my cell phone. When it rings, I'm usually so startled that I jump five feet in the air, and I have an intense urge to throw it out the window. But when it breaks, and I'm suddenly faced with the prospect of two days without a cell phone, I have an intense urge to throw myself out the window. I think of it kind of the same way I think of men: can't live with them, can't live without them. That said, I'm way more intimately involved with my cell than I've ever been with a guy. As long as I have it, I'm never alone. We take romantic walks together from Friend Center to Butler, and sometimes we just hang out in the Butler Quad.

Don't look at me like I'm crazy — I've seen you do it too. At 10:50 a.m. sharp, you pack up your bag after lecture and make a beeline to the freedom of the outdoors; you inhale a deep breath of fresh air; and suddenly, you realize your friends have all gone off to class, and you're going to have to make that long back to your dorm room all by your lonesome. Immediately, reflexively, you pull out your cell phone. Sure it's only a five-minute walk, but to do it by yourself? People will think you have no friends because you're not surrounded by people every waking moment.

This is the point where you lose me. We go to Princeton, and everyday we're told that we're as smart, interesting, independent and generally fabulous as they come. And yet, we can't stand to be alone, even for a few minutes. We always need to have someone with us, be it a real live person, someone at the other end of a phone or an iPod blasting into our ears to make up the difference. What is this fear of being left alone with our own thoughts?

I get the practical side of it — the idea that calling mom between classes means that you have an acceptable excuse to cut her off before she starts nagging you about what you're choosing as your major. But she doesn't need to hear from you every hour. And there's no way you have enough family members to keep this up between all four of your classes. At a certain point, the collective flipping open of the cell phone as soon as the clock strikes 11:50 is ridiculous. If everyone just left their cell phones in their bags and talked to each other instead, we'd be much friendlier, happier people. You'd actually be able to stop and have a conversation with that cute guy from French class, instead of having to do the brush off head tilt. You wouldn't be too distracted to notice that you shouldn't cross the street just now because a car is coming. You would be able to explore new parts of campus, instead of taking the same route to and from class every day because it's the only path where you consistently get cell service.

I'm not saying you should abandon your cell phone. But tomorrow, after lecture, let it have a little downtime in your bag. Maybe chat up the girl sitting next to you — she might be your next girlfriend. And if she's not, well, your phone will always be there for you.

Alexis Levinson is a freshman from Los Angeles, Ca. She can be reached out arlevins@princeton.edu.