Ok, yes, I succumbed. Less than a year after I spouted the evils of the cell phone trick convincing us we need to type messages to each other on a phone, I have (gasp!) subscribed to a texting plan. But no worries, I still have something to complain about, as I dust off my soapbox.
I admit that, for the small fee of $5, I can text with my kids back and forth while I’m in meetings. The girls can text, as if they were having a conversation with somebody cool, at lunch time. It can be a handy tool. I broke down because I had to pay individually for over 70 texts when I was in the hospital for 3 days. I figured $5 is a small price to pay. Monthly. Forever. They got me.
My rant is still valid, however, for people who thinking they’re having a relationship when their newfound love interest texts them ‘good morning’, ‘good night’, ‘what’s for lunch’, etc. Smiley faces, heart emoticons. They tell me, that’s so cute that she (or he) is thoughtful. I say B-A-R-F. (perchance I am jealous?)
I think it’s pathetic. Pathetic that all it takes for us to feel like we’re getting some attention is the few seconds it took to thumb 2 keys to somebody on a contact list. I want effort! I want whole words spoken by a live person. I don’t want to date your encryption or your dual thumb action.
And then who is upset when, weeks later, he gets a text breaking up with him. Or she is upset that her text isn’t immediately returned. Then, he gets her back by waiting a day to answer.
In this, our technical dating world, we don’t even have to come in contact with our boyfriends! We can meet them online, digest well-crafted bios, flirt safely behind keyboards and outdated pictures with no commitment and no risk.
But there’s also no chemistry! And probably half of what you read is true. I know I was duped in my one brief foray into online dating…I ‘got to know’ a guy who neglected to tell me he was in a wheelchair until I was planning a weekend trip. A male friend showed up for a first date, and later described her as looking like ‘an Auschwitz survivor’. Although I don’t want to talk about online dating, it’s really interrelated.
We’re having relationships with nobody in it. Twenty six keys are talking for us, in encrypted code. We’re almost programmers, reducing ourselves to “gm” and 
. I’d say the words are meaningless, but hell!, they’re not even words.
Our relationships have become abbreviations. Understandably short.
Taul, a rant 
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