welcome to the danger zone

Cynanthropy, cromnyomancy, cell phones, crepitus

well, I kind of fell asleep right after work the last two days. Of course then I wake up in the middle of the night, panicked that I didn’t do my blog entry. Well, not exactly. Tonight it was the pinging of a message on my cell phone.


If you know me, you know I don’t obsessively check or text my phone like some people. I usually can’t even find it or I left it at home, or forgot to charge it. Part of the reason is because it’s old and small and not very useful for much other than playing words with friends, text messages, taking pictures and checking the weather. Nine times out of ten, to do most things I have to restart it and wait. So I’m useless in an emergency.


I clearly have a love/hate relationship with my cell phone. I know I need it for emergencies, and it can be useful to communicate with people when you can’t say things out loud, but sometimes when I am with people who are constantly checking their phones and texting it makes me feel like I am somehow boring them or less important than whatever is popping up on their screen. I know it seems like forever ago, but there was a time when you could go out to dinner with people and no one had a phone to check. And conversation ensued without interruption. And the world managed to go on without you while engaged in human to human contact. I like conversation, and I hate having one where the other person is looking at a screen while I am talking to them.


There’s something more evil about cell phones though…


No filter. You can type shit and hit send and nothing can stop those words from flying through the ethers and hitting the screen of the person who is the unfortunate recipient. No filter, no second thoughts, no pause button. Your nonsense is now in my hands. You will regret sending it tomorrow, but for now, I’m reading it and having to respond to it. Or not. Typically, I don’t really pay much attention to the phone once I am home. If you want me, you will call me. But late at night, (and maybe this is a mom thing) if my phone is pinging or ringing after 11pm, I’m sure it’s an emergency. Andy will attest to that – I immediately switch into panic mode. So if you ever want to get my attention, send me a text at one am. And make sure it is vague but threatening and able to make me fearful of what your intentions are. Make sure that when I respond with care and concern, you reply with some drunken nonsense and tell me to fuck off. Because you are the one who texted me in the first place. Drunks and cell phones don’t mix. It reduces a normal adult to an insecure, moody, unstable 14 year old in a matter of seconds. And you can’t take your text back. It’s now in my phone as a reminder that you should never ever drink. Ever.


Dear readers, please do not drink and text. No good can come of it. Not for you, not for the recipient. Just say no.


This was a public service announcement. I am crawling back into bed, and will return tomorrow with the letters d and e. Unless I remember there’s a Game of Thrones marathon on free HBO. Be well my sweet peeps. (get it? Sweet peeps. Because peeps are marshmallow and marshmallow is sweet?) Hey, don’t judge, it’s three am.


Creatophagous – carnivorous, flesh eating.


Clinophilia – passion for beds


20100330-Whataburger-burgerand finally – chevaline


I am realizing the English language has an awful lot of words which normally we are unaware of and will likely never use. I for one am adding chiliomb to my daily vocabulary as soon as I find a reason to use it in a sentence.


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