Why my cell phone is turning me into a crazy monster...

Ok, ok I apologise for not blogging for a little while, but it is coming up to exam time, so I think I may be excused. However, I am now in a remote caravan in Wales with my grandparents for the weekend, so even though I haven’t been able to post these blogs, I have been writing A LOT, so if you see an absolute bomb of blogs going up over the next couple of days then that is why!

Anyways, let’s go ahead and get stuck in!

What am I blogging about today? Well, I figured I’d have YET ANOTHER rant about technology and how much of a hindrance it is to modern day romance. I know I sound like a broken record, I know. But seriously! Facebook, Twitter, and even text messaging are currently turning me into a nervous wreck.

The other day when I asked my friend, ‘Why can’t things be like in the Good Old Days, with Dorian Gray?’ I didn’t mean, ‘Why don’t we all sign our souls over to a painting so our own flesh doesn’t decay...’ as she thought I meant. What I mean was that I envy so much a time when you wouldn’t hear from a guy for three days, but you knew it was only because he had gone on a trip, or his messenger had died of the plague. Those were the days.

Now, we have immediate communication with our love interests which I guess initially seemed like a great idea (one which I do not necessarily dispute as without the likes of Skype, cell phones and SMS we would never have discovered the pleasures of an array of technologically-centred sexual activity... sexting anyone?) But on the flip side, we also have to deal with questions such as, ‘Did he realise I was joking?’, ‘Why hasn’t he called?’ and ‘Who the hell is that skank in his Facebook profile picture with him???’ Not to mention the whole... ‘How long ago was my last text??? Did something give him the impression that I had finished the conversation? Or do I not have service, so it might not have sent? *Checks sent box* No, it’s sent... Maybe he’s out and he’s left his phone at home... I’m sure he’ll text back soon. There’s probably a problem with my phone. *Turns phone off then back on again* Nope, that made no difference. I’ll turn it off overnight, then when I turn it back on in the morning, then he’s will have texted me while it was off... He still hasn’t texted me??? Ok, well, maybe he figured I had gone to bed and he didn’t want to wake me... When shall I text him??? Leave it until later; I don’t want to seem too keen...’ And so it goes on.

Perhaps it is just me, but I’m sure it’s not. Texting turns me into a paranoid obsessive psychopath. There. I said it.

And yet, what is the other option? Not texting... waiting in the drawing room for a telegram to arrive? Mmm, I could. A tad too archaic though, no? Plus, finding a modern man who knows how to operate a telegram machine might prove a big problem, especially if I want him to be some kind of ‘normal’.

So I guess it’s up to me to control my habit of checking my phone every five minutes. Or sacrifice a potential relationship with a handsome soldier... Perhaps I’ve said too much. Although having said that, my mom always said, ‘If a guy wants to talk to you, he’ll cross oceans to get in touch as quickly as possible.’ Well, some would say that she’s been spoiled by my dad, who literally did cross an ocean to propose to her after just a few months of dating (22 years later, they are still happily married, for your information) but I can’t help but think that her theory supports the somewhat cynical cliché so relevant today, maybe He’s Just Not That Into You.

Well, we’ll have to see. And as usual, I will keep you posted!

If you can relate to this post, make me feel a little better... tell me your experience. After all, a problem shared is a problem halved and all that.

Until next time

gabriellasofia