Jill's Place

A life in progress, spent mostly in the kitchen

YAEOWSS

(Yet another edition of What She Said)

. . .

When I was a teenager, I LIVED on the phone. My father used to joke about how it was permanently attached to my head. I can remember calling friends so that we could watch television together (over the phone). I was All Phone, All The Time.

And then the internet happened. The lovely, lovely internet.

I’m still a big fan of constant connection, but the advent of the internet changed things for me. Oh, sure—when I haven’t talked with a friend in a long time, nothing but an actual conversation will do, but in general? I much prefer email. Or chatting online.

I was trying to figure out why this is, and I realized it’s because I’m actually incredibly rude: While emailing or instant messaging I can ALSO be talking to the kids, emailing/instant messaging someone ELSE, and/or eating lunch. The multitasker in me is not interested in a singular phone conversation when I could be doing five things at once.

Except that I’ve never really been big on talking on the phone, even as a teenager. But multitasking? Oh yes, I’m all about the multitasking. I would just so much rather IM or email than talk on the phone. I hate phones, on general principles.

Well, not my iPhone. As JLK inspired, the Jeebusphone©. I L.O.V.E. it. But I only rarely use it as, you know, a phone.

Single Post Navigation

3 thoughts on “YAEOWSS

  1. FJayR on said:

    Given all the other choices, I can’t begin to fathom the appeal of IMing….these weird fragments of text…what the heck…but I love it…probably because I too multi-task like a fiend and an almost synchronous conversation is very attractive.

  2. hubby on said:

    I can attest to that, she doesn’t answer the phone half the time when I call her, and I LIVE WITH HER…

  3. In my case, it’s not even about the multitasking – my IQ automaticaly plummets 50 points when I’m on a phone or headset, whereas being able to Googlecheck things, delete my less coherent scribblings, etc. makes me sound so much smarter than I really am.

    (The BYM empathizes with your hubby on this, big-time.)

%d bloggers like this: