The Dreaded Acronyms Have Invaded My Brain

I was talking to a friend the other day and I was telling her about something someone said to me that made me laugh out loud. But instead of saying “laugh out loud” I said “LOL.” 

And then I caught myself. I actually said “LOL” instead of the complete words.  What just happened, I wondered.

Apparently, texting acronyms have officially invaded my brain. I never thought this would happen to me.  Why?  Because I was the last of the purists who spelled out things like “laugh out loud” and “talk to you later” when texting or sending messages.  It's a very good thing my cell provider doesn't charge me by the character, because my texts are freakishly long and detailed. 

I was proud to say that I have never used the acronym “BFF” as in, “My BFF and I went out last night and did tequila shots.”

Not that my BFF and I would be out doing things like tequila shots. After all, we’re no longer in our 20s.  Nor are our livers. Ah, but those were the days, weren’t they?  We were young and carefree and…

…but I digress.

I was talking about the overuse of acronyms and about how I am ashamed to say that I have succumbed. 

It’s not like the Internet or cell phone users came up with the concept of acronyms. They’ve been around forever. Well, maybe. I can’t say for sure since I wasn’t around during the days of caveman communication. Perhaps they carved, “BBS” for Be Back Soon on their cave walls to let their cavewomen know they were heading out to hunt mastodon.

But for sure we were familiar with acronyms well before the World Wide Web and smart phones entered the picture. I mean, everyone knows what “CIA” stands for. And “FBI.” And “CYA.”  And even “FUBAR.” 

I think the last two were coined by the military. Perhaps they started using them when they didn’t want to swear in polite society? 

I don’t know.  Maybe it’s inevitable that we start saying LOL instead of laugh out loud.  I mean, we rarely say “Federal Bureau of Investigation,” do we? No, we say, “FBI.”  It’s easier. It’s quicker.  And our tongues don’t trip over the words. (Go ahead, say it out loud fast. The words simply don’t flow.)

But still. It makes me uneasy.  Are we going to turn into a bunch of acronym-slinging Americans? Our grammar and spelling have already become atrocious.  But whenever someone is called out on their spelling errors, they use the excuse that they are sacrificing accuracy for expediency. Well, not really. I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t spell any of the words in that sentence correctly.

Nevertheless, you get the gist.

Those thumbs have to text quickly or the recipient will have already moved on to the next text and the next texter.  Spelling, grammar and coherent thought aren’t routinely taken into consideration.

Have you ever taken a look at some of your texts? Just scroll back through your communications with someone. They read like parts of thoughts and fragments of sentences and make very little sense when reading weeks or months later. And “LOL” is usually peppered throughout the communication.

Ah well. It could be worse. We could have absolutely no sense of humor about anything and instead of using “LOL,” we could insert frowny faces. That would not be good.

So I guess I should just relax a little. Communication in one form or another will always be with us.

I may just have to adjust my expectations, albeit reluctantly. Very reluctantly, my friends.

SMH.

iPhone Withdrawal

I was at the grocery store the other night and, on my way out of the store, I pulled my iPhone out of my pocket to see if Vince had called. Before I had the chance to do the left-to-right swipe across the bottom to view my voicemail icon, I dropped the damn thing. And it broke.

Arrrrggghhhh!

I’ve dropped it a million times, but evidently one million and one times is just one too many and it gave up the ghost. It even sported a ghost-like blank white screen as a sort of visual taunt. This was not good.

Later, Vince tried taking it apart to reach the battery thinking that if he took the battery out and put it back in, it would “reset.” Not so much. He managed to remove the tiny screws from the bottom of the phone and then wasn’t sure how to pry it apart. So he searched online for a “how-to” video.

The amateurish video he found was at least 20 minutes long and the guy narrating indicated that all sorts of special tools were needed. I sat in the chair behind Vince shaking my head in dismay the whole time hoping that he wouldn’t attempt to take it apart.

Fortunately, he didn’t. In defeat, I took my white-screened iPhone upstairs to try to back it up so I could save my photos and contacts and apps. Oh my. I have no idea if it actually worked, because before I went to bed the message on my computer read: “Backing up Jane’s iPhone.” And when I got up the next morning the screen still read: “Backing up Jane’s iPhone.” Seeing as how I really don’t have all that much stuff on my iPhone, I guessed there was a problem and the iPhone didn’t get backed up.

Sigh.

Before I went to bed I had to check my email the old-fashioned way using my desktop computer. A lunch get-together with some friends had been scheduled so I immediately picked up my iPhone to add it to my calendar. Oops. Couldn’t. Then I went to set my alarm to wake up this morning on my iPhone. Drat. Foiled again!

Since I never ever spring up out of bed before my alarm sounds in the morning, I had to request my husband’s assistance in setting up an actual alarm clock so I didn’t oversleep.

Vince usually sends me a text in the morning so I have a sweet message to wake up to…but that didn’t happen on Friday. And to communicate with me, he had to call me on the office landline. Can you imagine??

Wow. I truly AM addicted to my iPhone!

So much so that my first order of business on Friday (well, besides going to work!), was to schedule a lunchtime appointment with the wizards at Apple. Vince met me at Easton and we walked into the bright, shiny store that is Apple where all sorts of toys and gadgets abound. My eyes grew big with wonder as they feasted on such pretty sights as the iPads and the iPhone 4s and the incredibly thin and lightweight MacBook Airs. I WANTED IT ALL!

Vince had to practically drag me past all those yummy toys to the back of the store, which is where the technicians stand with tiny little screwdrivers waiting to help the next victim. The guys in their bright blue Apple shirts looked at my white-screened iPhone and tsk-tsked. Yes, they actually made that sound. But then they sprang into action. Instead of merely handing it back to me and saying, “Sorry, lady, this phone is toast,” they replaced it. FOR FREE. This would be no big deal if the phone was still under warranty or if I’d paid for the insurance on it, but neither was true.

So now the techs at Apple are my new best friends.

And, even though there was a glitch in backing up my white-screened iPhone, somehow all the information, contacts, photos and apps magically appeared on my new phone when I plugged it into my computer last night.

And, today? All is right with the world again.

Call me, okay? Or send a text. Whatever – I’ve got a working iPhone!! (Does anyone else hear a choir of angels singing - or is it just me?!)

Jane Tries to Explain the Whole Mars Versus Venus Thing

The other day a friend started a conversation with me by stating, “You probably won’t understand this because you have Vince…” and then went on to tell me about her relationship problems with her man.

I barely heard the rest of her message because I was flabbergasted. (Flabbergasted: a really good word to describe those “Hunh?!” moments in life. I don’t think we use it enough.)

Anyway, I was so flabbergasted because I’d spent years – decades even – in relationships that weren’t right for me. I spent years – decades even – worrying about what my boyfriend du jour was thinking and analyzing every conversation and spending far too much time determining the nuances of a simple, “Sorry, I’ve been busy” comment.

Such a comment would launch a flurry of guesses about the meaning. I’d wonder, Did I talk too much the last time we were together? I probably did and didn’t spend enough time asking his opinion about stuff. Probably I should have asked him to explain the workings of the internal combustion engine to me just one more time…

Or I’d think, Is he upset with me because I burned the meatloaf the last time he came over for dinner and he doesn’t really like lima beans even though he said he did and…

Okay, the last thought wasn’t true. I don’t particularly care for lima beans myself and can positively state that I have never prepared them for anyone else.

But, still – you get my point. Sometimes the, “Sorry, I’ve been busy” comment is just that – a statement of fact. And if I’d stopped trying to overanalyze things I would have realized that he had, in fact, been working six days a week and was sometimes even working on the seventh day as well.

However, I have learned something in recent years from books like “He’s Just Not That Into You” (by Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo). And that is: if a man really wanted to spend time with a woman he would make the time – no matter how busy he is.

Fortunately, I’ve also learned that lesson from Vince. Not only by what he says – but by how he acts. He wants to spend time with me, even when I’m not the most fun person to be around. He loves me and I know without a doubt that he does. I could give you a million reasons, but I don’t want to embarrass the man. Plus, I don’t want the cynics among you to (a) assure me that it won’t last, or (b) do that exaggerated eye roll thing or (c) make the finger-down-the-throat gagging motion.

I’ve lived long enough that I’m plenty cynical. But I’m also willing to take the gift of love I’ve been given with Vince and be grateful for it.

One of the best things about my relationship with Vince is that we talk. We’re talkin’ in the mornin’, we’re talking in the evenin’, we’re talkin’ all the live long day! We talk about mundane things like the state of our vegetable bin and the pros and cons of shopping at Costco versus Kroger (“Do we really need 10 lbs of carrots? I mean, really?!”)

But we also talk about thoughts and feelings. We talk when we’re happy and when we’re being silly as well as when we’re angry or upset. We don’t let things fester. I suppose we could be utterly annoying to those couples who don’t spend a lot of time talking. But, hey, it works for us! And if it doesn’t, well, we’ll probably talk about it and find out why.

We also resolve issues and don’t just talk about them ad nauseam without ever reaching a conclusion. So I don’t expect in five years to blow up over the fact that he didn’t refill the toilet paper holder for the 9,650th time. We try to pay attention to the things that bother one another. And we both know there’s no maid on the premises who will magically refill the toilet paper holder – so it is both our responsibilities.

So while it’s true that we haven’t even hit the one-year anniversary mark yet and I am hardly an expert on relationships, I do know that my relationship with Vince is different than it was with any previous boyfriend du jour. I know that things are just – I don’t know quite how to explain it – but they’re easier. If he were to say to me, “Sorry, I’ve been busy” I would know that he is merely stating a fact. And I wouldn’t try to overanalyze it.

Plus, Vince knows I don’t like lima beans…and he would never expect me to prepare them for him. No wonder I love the guy!