When you lose a life line.
Today is a very sad day indeed. After 19 months of friendship (best friends) my beloved iPhone had an accident, I fear it is the end of a long and loving relationship with Ivan, and it is definitely a separation of a few weeks while we send him off to the doctors via the insurers to see if he’s repairable.
Ivan came into my life after a lot of thought and deliberation. I have always been a bit of a phone addict (I blame this man here), and as soon as I could I bought myself a Blackberry Pearl. This was the phone I kept the longest (until Ivan came along). I used to get bored and sell them on ebay and replace frequently, but the introduction of affordable smart phones changed my life. Now I could merge my texting addiction with my online obsession. Now it was all in once place. It was AH-MAZE-ING. I kept Bert throughout the first year and a bit of The Beast, he performed well and took numerous photos that I was able to email or upload to facebook or twitter for free. He also offered me a life line I feel many new mums needed…contact with the outside world, along with company during those long sleepless nights, hour long night feeds and long drawn out days when it’s too wet to go anywhere and your
bloody gorgeous newborn WON’T SLEEP AT ALL.
When it came to upgrade I opted for the Blackberry Bold – it seemed the obvious choice. I wanted to stand out from the crowd, not be a sheep and follow the iPhone clan! He didn’t even last long enough to get a name. Battery failure and constant chugging meant a new battery and ebay for him, buying out the contract and I gave in, and got Ivan.
Oh Ivan. Ivan who kept me company when I was so heavily pregnant I genuinly couldn’t stand up. Ivan who took the first photograph of FatLarry, Ivan who kept me addicted to twitter and facebook and awake with Solitaire and AudioBooks during those long sleepless nights. Ivan who helps me with my calorie counting, my running, my email, videos my children IVAN IVAN IVAN.
When I sent Matthew the photograph of the damage and explained that I keep getting teeny tiny shards of glass in my fingers when I touch him he just responded with “well don’t use him until we get him sorted” (note how he also refers to my phone as a person not an object?). It got me thinking:
Are we becoming addicted to our phones?
In true Carrie Bradshaw style I could write a long post judging society, talking about our addiction to social networking, not being able to cope with being out of touch from anybody, in virtual or “real” reality. But I won’t because I think we all know we are, judging by comments on Facebook and Twitter, people agree. Losing your phone these days is like losing a limb.
The insurance people have told me it could take “at least a few weeks” to sort/fix/replace. How will I get my news feeds? How will I reach for my phone and tweet what sort of night I’ve had with my children? How will I get a quick photo of the kids and share it with my mum? Some people might say I should use this oppertunity to break free, go cold turkey a little bit. I don’t agree with those people…I have yet to think of a solution. So in the mean time. Could we just please all bow our heads and mourn the loss of a dear friend.
RIP – IVAN