But I usually stop myself unless I know the person quite well and/or they have used them in an email to me. (And the winking ones have always felt vaguely lecherous to me, but that might just be me.) And I think a lot of people use them the way you describe — to ensure that a message isn’t read with the wrong tone.
As long as they’re used sparingly, they can be a quick way to convey “this is intended warmly” when the message otherwise risks being read as cold or critical.
I looked up to my oldest brother as the epitome of intelligence.
He knew everything, though he was too humble to be ostentatious with his knowledge as I would have been had I been as smart. At eighteen, he was an official adult, and he had a duty to selflessly spread his intelligence to the world, other people’s younger sisters included.
In addition to making the Forbes “30 Under 30” list twice and winning the 2012 Shorty Award for Best Web Show for her hit series The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl, Issa Rae has worked on web content for Pharrell Williams, Tracey Edmonds, and numerous others.
She developed a TV series with Shonda Rhimes for ABC and is currently developing a half-hour comedy, Insecure, for HBO. But oddly enough, my cyber social debauchery is indirectly correlated with my current status as a so-called internet pioneer.
Issa has received national attention with major media outlets including The New York Times, CNN, Elle, Seventeen, Rolling Stone, VIBE, Fast Company, MSNBC, Essence, and more. It all started when I began catfishing—creating characters and transmitting them over the internet—though back then people just called it “lying.” Had my father not signed my entire family up with America Online accounts for the computer in our modest Potomac, Maryland, home I don’t know that I’d have had the tools to exploit the early ages of the internet.
A/S/LAt only eleven years of age, I was a cyber ho. Two years earlier, my oldest brother, Amadou, had gone away to college at Morehouse, freeing up the coveted computer, which was housed in the basement, for my use.
When alone, and mom-approved, I actually loved to hear the robotic crunching and whirring that the printer made while laying to ink my very own written words. It ignited my social development and expanded my concept of sexuality.
But the computer in my room paled in comparison to the one downstairs, in the basement. Because of AOL, I had imaginary friends that weren’t imaginary.