VYou combines the intimacy of one-to-one conversation with the reach of broadcast. It feels like a typical video chat, but the responses are pre-recorded and can be played by anyone, anywhere. Users interested in creating their own accounts can establish a one-[wo]man audiovisual archive of useful information on any topic of their choosing. It just takes you, the viewer, to ask questions.

Here’s my VYou:

It’s actually not this simple.

I took the challenge a step further and did away with unnecessary Web surfing altogether. I even banned myself from using my iPhone for checking e-mail in the car. (I couldn’t get rid of e-mail completely as I needed it for work.) Since my husband, Steve, does all of the driving, I didn’t want to put myself in a situation where I could spend entire car rides playing with my phone.

I decided to chronicle my experiences as an internet luddite. Surprisingly, I learned a lot about myself in the process:

Day 1
8:57 a.m. – We’re in the car on the way to work and my fingers are twitching like I’m some sort of addict. (And maybe I am.) This is prime e-mail-checking time and my hands don’t know what to do with their new-found freedom from iPhone enslavement.

Suddenly, I realize I haven’t Tweeted about the blackout experiment, so I start digging through my purse. How can such a small bag be so cavernous? Finally, I find my phone and start typing as fast as I can. Like Indiana Jones grabbing his hat before the stone door shut forever in Temple of Doom, I manage to get my Tweet in before my 9 a.m. cut off. It’s going to be a long 48 hours.

11:02 a.m. – It’s been a busy morning, but I’m back at my desk now. I’m starting to realize just how much of my typical day is spent goofing off online, and it’s kind of scary. So how on Earth do I manage to stay so productive? I have no idea. I just know that I’ve been plugged into the Internet since I was 14–that’s half of my life–and it didn’t prevent me from graduating college with high honors, researching/writing a 153-page masters thesis in less than a year, or gaining some pretty successful career opportunities at NOVA Online and Boston University.

I’m not even bored right now and I definitely have work to do, yet the compulsion to “just check” all of my different sites of interest hits me every time I sit down. In a split-second, my mind thinks “Let’s go to Facebook–wait, I can’t do that; Twitter! Nope, can’t do that either; Flickr! Sorry, not happening…” etc.

My phone is ringing. Saved by the bell.

12:16 p.m.. – It’s almost lunchtime now, and one of my clerks is standing at my door, going over this morning’s crazy events. (At our hotel, every morning is sprinkled with a touch of crazy.) I look up at her as she talks, neither of us realizing that I’m absentmindedly typing “facebook.com” into Firefox’s address bar. I get as far as entering in my password before I notice what I’m doing.

What’s wrong with me?

I exit the browser as a guilty feeling builds in the pit of my stomach. That was close.

For the record, I do realize how absurd this sounds.

2:05 p.m. – I notice that every time I sit down to get a little computer work done, my cursor drifts toward the Firefox icon. It’s happened at least 10 times today already–probably more. I’ve actually stopped counting.

Steve shot this with my iPhone. I fully admit that in a moment of weakness, I asked him to upload it to his Facebook account. He declined.

I’m beginning to see that my problem isn’t really the conscious desire to connect with people, but something more deeply ingrained in who I’ve become. I’ve spent most of my formative years online. The compulsion to surf is like muscle memory, hardly any different from walking around without realizing on any conscious level that I’ve even stood up.

I’ve been following the same internet routine for 14 years. The sites have changed, but the habits remain the same. I wonder if I’m now hardwired to be a geek.

3:42 p.m. – My subconscious is getting clever. I’ve had a little bit of down time this afternoon and without realizing it, I’ve been taking actions that, if completed, would require me to log into Facebook. About 20 minutes ago, I started thinking to myself, “I’ve got some time–why not experiment with some potentially useful code for my blog?”

It just so happens that I’ve been planning on implementing Facebook Connect features that would allow people to comment on News-Geek via their Facbook accounts. This would prevent users from having to go through the hoops of registering or retyping all of their personal information to post to this site. It’s all about convenience, right?

Wrong. Well, sort of. It’s partially about convenience, but today it’s also about having an excuse to log into Facebook. I can’t implement this feature without getting an application programing interface (API) key, a unique Facebook-generated identifier that will allow users to interact with my site. I’ll have to play with this functionality another time.

5:45 p.m. – It’s after work and we’re running errands. I still don’t miss my social networking sites, but I do find myself thinking about them frequently. Every time I get into the car, I have to remind myself to not reach for my phone. So, I stare out the window–and wow, it looks like there’s a new tattoo/massage/goth attire/head shop just outside the really nice part of town. How the hell did that get there? And when?

I thought that being plugged in kept me informed, in the know, aware–and it does. It keeps me in touch in the world. But what about my own backyard?

6:28 p.m. – I cooked with quinoa for the first time tonight. I have the urge to take a picture of the tasty meal with my phone and to Tweet it, but only as a passing thought. Current realization: I am incredibly lame.

9:45 p.m. – I’ve enjoyed a nice, quiet evening with Steve and our puppy, Herbie. I’m grateful because I’ve learned I’m not so attached to the internet that these nights aren’t common. In fact, it really feels like any other night, only I’m not mindlessly playing with my iPhone every few minutes. For the first time today, I don’t feel like an addict.

Day 2
6:00 a.m. – We’re going into Nashville today and I don’t want to get up. My usual morning ritual begins with my alarm, followed by at least 15 minutes of Web-surfing via my phone as I wipe the sleep from my eyes with my free hand. Unfortunately, staring at the ceiling doesn’t have quite the same waking effect. I begin wonder how impractical it would be to get a coffee maker for my nightstand.

6:45 a.m. – It’s hard to disconnect when so many aspects of your real life and social-media life are intertwined. I haven’t given up e-mail because I have a lot of work information saved in messages and drafts.

I notice that there’s a “3″ beside the Google Buzz link underneath where it says “Inbox.” That’s way too convenient. I don’t click on “Buzz,” though, because it’s the Valhalla of social networking. It all too easily aggregates your activity on sites like Twitter, YouTube, and Flickr, and shares it with other Buzz’ers (and vice versa).

When did we all go meta? And why?

I understand the need to reach our entire potential audience, but no one cares (or should care) enough about what I say to be willing to read the phrase “I just had my first glass of soy milk since leaving Boston” three times across three different sites.

1:30 p.m. – I see an NRA poster that reads “Insure Your Gun Rights!” I cringe. My inner grammar Nazi wants to take a picture with my phone and upload it to Facebook along with some sort of snarky “fail” caption.

Once again, it’s more reflex than desire. I realize how obnoxious it is to nitpick a poster. I don’t even dislike the NRA or disagree with a lot of what their less paranoid members stand for. I find out later that insure/ensure faux pas wasn’t a one-time mistake. They’ve got the phrase all over some reading materials and this Web site.

I twitch a little.

I wonder: In an addiction scenario, would my iPhone be the dealer or just an enabler?

4:42 p.m. – It’s a long drive home, and in between conversations with my husband, I wonder what my frenemies are up to. (A frenemy is someone who pretends to be a friend but is actually an enemy. I argue that in the social-networking world, the term should extend to rivals who maintain a continued interest in one’s life or vice versa, regardless of whether the two parties even speak. Online, you don’t have to talk to someone to legally and secretly keep tabs on them.)

We are the millennial generation, sometimes called the “net” generation. I believe that we all passively stalk people from our past, simply because we can. The only difference between us and creepsters with restraining orders against them is our motivation. While conventional “stalkers” are driven by obsession and a side of chemical imbalance, we’re just curious. Any malicious intent on our part could be likened to what you might feel during a class reunion: We want to ensure that we’re happier and more successful than our frenemies, and we want to see if they’re as lame/sketchy/weird/mean as they were when we still spoke to them.

In the interest of full, embarrassing disclosure, I admit that I have a couple of frenemies I check up on every few months. I know for a fact that many of my friends, acquaintances, former students and employees do the same.

I’m fairly certain that this is why the various social-networking sites won’t add a “see who’s looking at your profile” feature. Can you imagine the drama that would ensue if you suddenly learned that your proctologist, who isn’t even your Facebook friend, looks at your account more than your wife does?

10:30 p.m. – I’ve enjoyed another great evening in with Steve and Herbie. I don’t really want to go online at this point.

Day 3
7:24 a.m. – I wake up with the realization that this hiatus is almost over. I feel guilty, like I really shouldn’t go back to life as I knew it two days ago. If you do the math, a minute here and a minute there can add up to hours wasted online.

I want to keep fasting, but I also want to publish this post and share it across my various social-networking accounts. I want to connect with others out there who can relate to me and to this entry.

I’ll compromise: I will go back to my sites, but I’ll limit my use. There will be no more idle surfing in the car, and conversations with real, physical people will have to trump internet usage altogether. This means that if I’m at a restaurant with my husband, I will not grab my iPhone at any point as we wait for our meal.

12:55 p.m. – I’m publishing this blog entry. I haven’t been to Facebook or Twitter yet. I suspect I’ll have a lot to catch up on, but I think I’ll have some lunch and pick up around the house first.

The problem is, I never bothered using any of them. I’ve tried to get into Twitter, but micro-blogging has never really appealed to me–well, until now, anyway.

Long story short, I’ve recently come to accept two important facts of internet life:

1. Twitter isn’t the passing fad I thought it would be. To the contrary, it’s still gaining in popularity more than 2 years after its release. According to a February ’09 report from Web traffic analysis site Compete.com, Twitter is now the third most popular social networking site behind Facebook and MySpace.
2. Twitter is a symbol how internet users are now essentially online all the time. Smart phones and WiFi have really changed where we connect, when we do it, and how often we can do it. We can both have lives and yet stay in constant connection with the Web and our peers, which is a huge shift from just a couple of years ago. Sure people still have their stereotypes: To a lot of folks, if you’re online, you must be at your computer in your mom’s basement, drinking a 2-liter Mt. Dew and arguing with strangers over which “World of Warcraft” characters are the coolest. But regardless of stereotypes, things are really changing. Look at teenagers: Even the cool kids are always texting, Facebooking, Twittering, etc.

As a self-respecting multimedia journalist, I know that I should accept Twitter as the increasingly popular tool that it is. Yet it’s that journalistic part of me that really needs to decipher what’s behind the popularity of this whole micro-blogging thing. Both Facebook and MySpace offer “status update” tools in addition to myriad cool features that Twitter doesn’t have. So why do we Twitter?

While even Twitter CEO Evan Williams can’t answer that question (as he’s stated in multiple interviews) perhaps the Times of London can. Just yesterday the Times published an article in which they asked several experts about the Twitter phenomenon. The conclusion was this: We Tweet because we have an underdeveloped sense of the self. Ouch.

From the article:

The clinical psychologist Oliver James has his reservations. ‘Twittering stems from a lack of identity. It’s a constant update of who you are, what you are, where you are. Nobody would Twitter if they had a strong sense of identity.’

‘We are the most narcissistic age ever,’ agrees Dr David Lewis, a cognitive neuropsychologist and director of research based at the University of Sussex. ‘Using Twitter suggests a level of insecurity whereby, unless people recognise you, you cease to exist. It may stave off insecurity in the short term, but it won’t cure it.’

For Alain de Botton, author of Status Anxiety and the forthcoming The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work, Twitter represents ‘a way of making sure you are permanently connected to somebody and somebody is permanently connected to you, proving that you are alive. It’s like when a parent goes into a child’s room to check the child is still breathing. It is a giant baby monitor.’

Those are some pretty strong accusations. But what do you think? Are those of us who Tweet or update our statuses on Facebook and MySpace narcissistic? Are we insecure? Do we need validation?

For me… I just think it’s fun. No harm, no foul. But what do you think? Are we truly just a bunch of big, fearful, attention-seeking babies?

Let me know. And while you’re at it, follow me (and my lacking sense of self) on Twitter. You can do that at right.