As a good college student, I spend a decent amount of time signed on Instant Messenger, whether I'm there or not. It gives the impression of sociability. And any time I'm feeling down about the fact that I have no friends, I can just look at my buddy list which promptly replies, "Don't be sad, Jim. Look, 49 of your 169 friends are online!" And then I go ahead and talk to the three of them that I always do.
But what is infinitely more intriguing about the institution of AIM-dom is what is commonly known as "The Profile." Back when cavemen used the AIM profile it was solely a medium to convey information about the person to whom it belonged. For instance, a sample profile might read, "My name is Jim Russell, a 20-year-old, third-year student at the University of Virginia with sub-par looks and an affinity for all things Dungeons and Dragons."
Whether fortunately or unfortunately, the profile has evolved into a much more complex medium that conveys not only basic information about its owner, but also provides a window into the profile owner's soul. The problem is this is too often done by way of ABBA lyrics, inside jokes and shout-outs. There needs to be some profile etiquette, and I'll be damned if the Cav Daily isn't the perfect modern-day Mount Sinai from which to announce the Ten Commandments of AIM Profiling.
I. Whatever is in your profile now should not be in your profile two weeks from now. I don't care if Heidi Klum IM'd you and confessed her love
Read More
Charlottesville’s new adult playground for refined American classics
By Evelyn Maxwell | 11 hours agoSunPins, the Dairy Market’s newest resident, is breathing fresh life into the corner of Grady Avenue, centering elevated American fare within the energetic hum of a biergarten-meets-patio
The drinks of our lives
By Anna Stamey | YesterdayFrom the chaos of a Trashcan to the tart simplicity of a Bold Rock, these drinks not only frame what students sip, but how they gather.
Ciaccia: A slice of Italy in Belmont
By Evalina Caruccio | 2 days agoAs an Italian food snob and recent returnee from a summer abroad, I went into Ciaccia with big shoes to fill and I couldn’t have been more pleasantly surprised
