Okay Stags, it’s important to start off this column with the truth, and Mr. iPhone over there only dished the half of it.
Yes, I may have been complaining about how technology is the downfall of relationships (my life in particular) while we were trying to narrow down topics for this week, but he was the one to turn my old-fashioned life into a column topic. Moral of the story: don’t listen to everything he tells you. He lies. I’m the perfect, witty, talented, intelligent, and oh-so-modest writer whom you can trust.
So, hello from your new Blackberry girl! My name is Maria Mazzaro and I’m from New York City, Staten Island specifically. (Yes, it is really an island. Yes, there are bridges; it’s not like an episode of Lost or anything.) I love long walks on the beach, old movies with sappy lines that guys don’t say anymore, and my cell phone.
I wouldn’t say I’m addicted or anything like those girls you pass on the street who are screaming, “I was like, ‘whatever!’ And she was like, ‘whatever!’ And then we were like, ‘whatever!’” or the guys that almost lose limbs because they’re too busy texting to pick up their heads and read the signs that say CAUTION: OPEN MANHOLE, but one thing I’m guilty of: I most definitely utilize the smiley faces.
I can admit that I am slightly dependent on Verizon and I’m sure many of you can admit the same. And really, who can blame us? Our phones are our calendars, stopwatches, alarm clocks, planners, MP3 players, computers, and cameras. And they also serve as communication devices. So the next time Gramps yells over the buzz of his hearing aid, “In my day, we didn’t have those dangnabit cellulars!” be sure to tell him that he’s right, but in his day they were living very unorganized, very unconnected, very meaningless lives.
Which brings me to the topic of texting conversations. In this impersonal bubble, there is a fine line between what can and cannot be said via texts. Trust me, I’m down for “Yo, stairz of Barone @ 7 bruh?” but what about, “Hey, what’s up?”
Do you know the can of worms you just opened up with that question? Are you expecting the generic, “Nuffin much, hbu?” Do you want to hear about the weather? How many frappaccinos I just consumed in two hours? The inner workings of my female mind?
What is more, why is it that when I the respond to your text, you don’t answer me? I guess that minute between our messages was too much for you to wait? And please don’t use the excuse that you didn’t hear your phone ring; nobody has taken their phone off vibrate since the hit ring tone was the latest Jonas Brothers single.
I could now divulge into the social faux pas that is asking someone out via text, but that’s probably how iPhone does all his socializing. Poor guy, maybe by the end of this column I can teach him how to stray out of Apple and into the real world.
TTFN!
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Blackberry
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