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Posts Tagged ‘Blackberry’

Technology is a killer. If it hadn’t somehow become an extension of me, I would take my new Kurt Gieger stiletto and drive it through the screen of my blackberry. I deleted Facebook once when it became the cause of a break-up, but eventually I went crawling back. I am a social networking junkie and I’m not afraid to admit it.

I’ve found over time that a lot of people are sarcastically challenged and getting across tone in a text message is a killer. Consider: “I can tell you miss me” and “I can tell you miss me”. One said in a jokey and playful manner, one said in arrogant and patronising one. And I doubt you can tell which is which any more than I can.

The moral of this story? Things get lost in translation, and it doesn’t take much to go from playful conversation to ‘I sent that text three hours ago why hasn’t he replied?!’

The problem is, once the ‘send’ button has been pressed, it’s game over. You can’t take your comment back, you just have to wait and hope his three brain cells manage to conduct a little power and decipher your message was a joke.

And then you sit there, desperately staring at your phone, urging it to buzz, checking to make sure you hadn’t spontaneously lost your hearing and missed the beep-beeping of a text. Looking to see if you have signal, turning your wi-fi on and off and then the ultimate desperation: calling your house phone to double check your phone hasn’t just become faulty.

Then you get annoyed with yourself, you’re a self-sufficient sophisticated woman, if he can’t tell that what you just said was a joke, then perhaps you don’t need him in your life. The self-empowerment mode never lasts long however and you shortly begin contemplating the ‘double-text’. Perhaps you should send a follow up text, to clarify you were joking. Surely that wouldn’t be such a bad idea, would it?

How can I put this mildly? Yes. Yes it bloody is. Worst idea you’ve even had.

Has it come to anyone else’s attention that you can go four days without receiving a single text from a friend or family member and then upon entering a stage of near paranoid-schizophrenia caused by phone watching, the whole world decides to call? You get through seven messages from t-mobile wanting to discuss the changes in your new price plan, beep-beep a message from your mother asking you to pick up milk and a notification from Facebook a Mr Gerald Fitzherbert (no mutual friends) wants to be your friend.

Anyways, he texts eventually, cool, calm and completely oblivious the fact you’ve been waiting by your phone for the last ten hours. And you’re so irrationally relieved that he didn’t reject you for not properly thinking out the content of your text that you forget to hate him like you intended to.

And if only the occasional in-comprehensive text was our biggest worry.

To be completely happy in a relationship, I’ve always believed you have to hold onto the lies. A little bit of delusion never did anyone any harm. If he tells you that when he went out, got drunk with his friends and came home at 6am he was actually thinking of you the whole night, why can’t we just be allowed to hold onto that?

We know that the scenario he presented us with was a complete fabrication, and he probably spent half the night buying drinks for a table of blonde Russian belly dancers. And while I’ve always been enough of a realist to live by the ‘look but don’t touch’ rule in relationships; that doesn’t mean however that I want to see 200-tagged photos of him on Facebook with Alena, Sveta and Vanya the next day.

I envy the people who lived in the pre-technology days, where people’s laptops weren’t ruining their love lives and mobile phones weren’t the cause of minor mental breakdowns.

You know it’s true what they say (and while I have no clue who exactly ‘they’ is) whoever it was who decided ‘ignorance is bliss’ deserves a beer on me, because boy was he onto something.

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