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I used to be a phone person. But then, name a teenager who isn’t. In early high school, I would literally race home only to call one of the friends that I had left 20-25 minutes earlier. These conversations would last for hours on end, and as hard as I’ve tried to remember what the hell we could have been talking about, I can’t. And during those conversations, all nightly routines were carried out with receiver in hand, including dinner, dishes, and homework. I have even been accused (mostly by Alicia) of watching television while on the phone. Whether or not this is true (it is), it just tells me that I am able to balance more than one task at a time. To Alicia, it meant that I had a low attention span. Ummmm, perhaps.
Anyway, I came to the realization yesterday that I have somehow morphed into the exact opposite of what I used to be. I despise talking on the phone now. I mean, why phone when you can get the job done with a quick email? I do make exceptions for our extended family or far-away friends that we don’t see very often, but otherwise I avoid it. Even our cell phones get neglected. They mostly get left at home or remain uncharged for weeks, much to the chagrin of, well, everybody who’s ever tried to reach us that way.
But this avoidance comes with complications. I recently needed to call a friend – a good friend – for directions, and I didn’t have her number. I was in the car, nowhere near a computer and unaware of the name of the new street that she lives on. I scrolled through my cell phone and realized that I had so few numbers stored in the phone book that I couldn’t even call someone else who might know. And it seemed that my brain roladex was even worse. Barely a phone number to be found.
How embarrassing for me. Even most of the friends that I used to race home from class to call were missing from the list. But somehow I can still remember the number of my grade 9 boyfriend (a little pathetic) and all the numbers of my childhood friends’ homes (about a year ago, without thinking, I actually called Alicia’s parents house instead of the house she’d been living in for years. Twice in a row. Oops.) Perhaps it can be blamed on everybody having many more phone numbers than they used to and changing numbers much more often, but really, there’s no good excuse.
I’d like to say that I’ll make the effort to change…but I won’t. Everybody’s lives are too busy and no one, including me, has enough time to chat on the phone after a long day of work or on the jammed packed weekends. BUT I should make the effort to at least gather the numbers of the friends (and family – I don’t even know my brother’s number!)that I need to reach on a regular basis…….even if it is just to be able to send them a quick text message. 😉
Alicia - There must be something about that 6172 number cause I still give out my parents number when I am asked ‘on the spot’ what my phone number is.
I wasn’t able to call my sister when I wanted to last night either. She’s changed her phone about 8 times in the last 6 months and her latest wasn’t in the memory of my phone. (I almost said Maestro…”it wasn’t on my maestro”. Which then brings us to Maestro Fresh Wes – “Drop the Needle”)
If your number doesn’t make it into the address book of my mobile (I know you love the use of ‘mobile’, Shan) then it just simply does not exist.
shannen - ‘Mobile’ IS geeky, but I’ll allow it from you. But only you.
dan - I’m not much of a phone talker, and I don’t know many males who are.
I practice something I like to call “ignore the ringing phone”. If I’m busy or otherwise don’t want to talk to anyone, I don’t answer the phone. That drives some people insane. Why don’t you answer the phone? It’s ringing!
I also *hate* call waiting. I don’t answer beeps. How rude … “sorry, someone potentially more interesting or important is on the other line. You’ll have to wait without hold music an indeterminate amoun t of time until I’m finished my business with them”.
That’s all I’ve got.
Shannen - As much as I don’t like the phone, I never ignore a ringing one. And it drives me crazy that Dan does. To me, every rigning phone could potentially be an emergency – so I’ll race from what ever part of the house i’m in to find one of our two phones, which are normally side by side and not in their respective cradles.
So never fear, if you call, and I’m home, I’ll answer. Dan won’t. He’ll assume out loud that it’s for me and go right back to what he was doing.
😐