This should probably come as no big surprise to a lot of
you. But I’m not the biggest fan of technology. Not like I want to go to
Burning Man and renounce all of my worldly possessions or anything like that.
But like, I went without internet for months because I couldn’t figure out how
to recover my password. Or like, I don’t have an iPod because my last iPod
decided to delete every single song I’ve ever owned/illegally downloaded since
the seventh grade, leaving me with nothing because obviously I never backed
them up to my laptop. Or maybe I’m just bitter because I did back them up once,
but that laptop was stolen out of my very own car in my very own secured, underground
parking structure. Whatever. I’m one of those weird people that buy actual compact discs, reads actual hard copy books, and I prefer a pen and
paper to a keyboard any day of the week. Technology and I, we just don’t get
along. Case in point: Cell phones.
While you guys are all so stoked on your new iPhone 5’s, I
just received my sixth blackberry in seven months. But no worries, it has
MySpace already installed on it so I can stay totally current and up to date
with social media. It’s fine. Really, it is. I honestly don’t mind my
blackberry. And at one point, my blackberry was super cool and highly
respected. I can make spreadsheets, and message people internationally, and play
Brick Breaker, and probably do a lot of other really professional and exciting shit
too. And don’t forget that the BBM emoji’s were the predecessor to your dumb
iPhone emoji’s, so I guess that makes me original or whatever. Try not to be
jealous. My blackberry does lots of other neat things too. Like, I had one
blackberry that liked to nap. Yeah, nap. Or freeze. But I like nap, because
obviously it’s exhausted. So sometimes, it would save all of it’s energy and
wait for just the right time to send and receive any messages. It’s like an
instant ego boost because I’d receive tons of text messages all at the same time.
Those little bells just wouldn’t quit, making me the coolest, most popular girl
in school for three seconds every afternoon. I had one blackberry that could
read my mind. Sometimes, when it knew I probably didn’t want to talk to
someone, it would send them straight to voicemail and never even ring on my end.
I wouldn’t even know they called, relinquishing all feelings of guilt for not
answering, until I checked my voicemail four months later and learned that
somebody needed me to take them to the airport or something else dumb that I
probably didn’t care about or want to do anyways. This current blackberry won’t
install facebook, or email, or browse the interwebs or send and receive
pictures. But it’s cool. I got a cell phone ticket last summer for tweeting and
driving, so it’s probably just looking out.
The coolest part about my blackberry - is that they keep sending them to me.
No matter what I do to them, they just keep coming. Seriously. I’ve dropped a
blackberry in the ocean, brought it in to a Verizon store, and walked out with
a new one. If anyone else is using a prehistoric phone, you know about that
stupid white box that turns red revealing water damage? Yeah, well if you leave
your phone in the bathroom when you’re showering, steam can do that too,
probably. That worked for me, anyways. Maybe they’re aware I’m most likely the
last person on the planet using a blackberry so they don’t want to lose my
business? But as long as they keep sending them, I’ll keep using them. Unless
of course, someone would like to buy an iPhone for me. And subsequently another one in a few months after I
destroy the first one. And probably a few more after that too. Maybe I play too rough? Okay, thanks.
Love you, mean it.
