Phone Envy

Like PITA, my two year contract is up on my cell phone. Two years ago, I was talked into writing my name into cement that I would pay through the nose monthly to be able for anyone to reach me anytime: in the bathroom at StuffMart, as I hurtle down the highway, if I am visiting family in another state. There are both positives and negatives to being so accessible.

What did we do before cell phones, I sometimes wonder, yet live I did in such times. In fact, I don't believe I had a cell until I was well into my thirties. My kids have never known life without computers or cell phones. Unlike me, they don't ponder the magic of signals that in seconds transmit around the country looking for me and on finding me, make my phone ring. They've never had to have long conversations while attached to a corded phone. With instant email, they've not had to wait for weeks to correspond with someone in another far off place, or had to search through microfilm at the library to find some fact for a research paper. Advantages?

Yes, of course, there are. Yet, today, it is hard to "get away", to stand on an overlook surveying nature and to be alone with that. Some peace is lost in being so accessible. Yet, I will renew (or get a new) contract for phone service mainly as I want to be available to my kids at all times should there be an emergency, such as they really, really need new socks while I am at StuffMart and could I pick some up?

After forgetting two appointments yesterday, dh says I need a Dingleberry where I can store all my calendars and reminders. More and more of my acquaintances have iPhones and iTouches and whole computers stuffed into little tiny devices in their pockets. The monthly service cost puts me off, and while I admire them as others hold the devices for me to see like they were photographs of their newest puppy or grandchild, I am stingy enough to not want to pay the hefty monthly fees associated with them. Will it really keep me up to date, in touch? Or, does our technology make us more isolated than ever?

How'd I Do That?

My new laptop (thank you, Dad!) is wonderful. I've not yet loaded it up to the gills with programs and photos. Unlike my desktop, it doesn't take an hour to load, asking me to sign into AIM, MSN Messenger, some error message about my mail default, load some clock I don't remember installing, load up fifteen other programs I never use. Yeah, yeah, I know I can fix all that but it still has gigs and gigs of old photos on it (that I intend to organize some day RIGHT) and it's slower than molasses regardless. It is so much easier to just use the laptop and ignore the old desktop and the hours of work it represents.

The laptop takes some getting used to. For some reason, they've designed all laptops with the mouse pad right about where your thumb pads rest when using the keyboard. Next thing I know, the window I'm using is minimized. Where did it go? Okay, I touched the mouse pad and I'll retrieve the window from the taskbar. The cursor and window bounce back and forth as I fight for control of the task at hand, accidently bringing up menus and deleting whole sentences. Sometimes, I find myself typing in the middle of the wrong paragraph, and don't know how I got there.

Sadly, it echos my life lately when I find myself standing at the top of the steps, and I don't know why I went upstairs, though I know it was for something.