Sunday, September 24, 2006

Blackberry Hell

It doesn’t pay to get out of bed, some mornings. I was trying to get out of the house and to the hospital early. Well, early-ish, if you get my drift. Laughing Baby was just finishing up her breakfast nosh and was falling back to sleep. I was snuggled up next to her, tapping my toes and checking my email on my brandy new technical device that rhymes with “Smackberry”, waiting for her fall completely asleep so I could sneak out of the room and get ready. Next thing you know, I drop the Smackberry on her head. Oh! Howls of agony! Oh! Great Gobs of Mommy Guilt! Upon further inspection, I think they were more howls of indignation that actual pain and suffering, but not matter-everyone in the house was now awake and I wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry.

Speaking of the Smackberry: this thing is causing entirely too much aggida (Agida? Adgida? Ajjida? Any Italians out there know how to spell the damn thing?) Anyway, after much intestinal distress, I’m starting to like the thing but it is a pain in the ass. I’ve dropped more times than I should admit to. I set the ringer on high and it wakes everybody up in the middle of the night. I set it on low and no one hears it, including me. Yesterday, I was called 12 TIMES and they were ready to send out the bloodhounds to find me when I woke up, checked the phone and said, “Holy Shit!” and wound up having to apologize to all the people who lives I disrupted. Sigh. I am not a techie. I’ll figure out that it does this or that and the family just roles their eyes at me, like, what took you so long? As in, “Hey, this text messaging is great! Do you guys know how to do this?” Sigh.

And it’s turning my coworkers into people I’d rather not spend to much time around. They’re all like, “How come my email doesn’t work?” and “We need a class for this. How can they give us a Smackberry and not give us a training class?” Excuse me, but the last time I got a cell phone, it didn’t come with a class, it came with a Spanish instructor. His name-Manuel.

Every meeting is a flurry of chirps and beeps and bells and rings as people scramble to figure out if they just got a phone call, an email or a message from God himself. I’ve heard that when they elect a new Pope, white smoke will come out of the goddamn thing.

And while I’m kvetching, my house is a disaster. There are ants on the kitchen counter because Love Monkey made some cinnamon toast for the baby and it rained sugar on the counter. “I don’t know,” LM shrugs, “they must be special ants, the kind that only eat sugar.” What? So there it is, an ant parade, in my kitchen. Hopefully, they’ll stay there, because the LM also doesn’t believe in using the high chair, but lets the baby graze throughout the house, like a little goat and so soon the “special” ants are likely to follow said “kid” and her trail of crumbs. Also, blocks are everywhere, Little Einstein CD packs are scattered around and many, many cups and glasses line the bookshelves and cabinets, high up out of baby reach. But don’t worry! Lives are being saved, (including those belonging to ants) and I’m hard at work, living out of my car and eating fast food. I had a professor in nursing school who said she threw a pile of dirt in the corner and when it started to sprout, she knew it was time to clean. Words to live by. Now excuse me, I’ve either got a cricket in my house or the phone is ringing.


Susan Palwick said...

I believe it's spelled "agita."

And I'm jealous. As one of the cyber-nerds of the universe, I'd LOVE a Crackberry.

Anonymous said...

missed you, glad you are back...and i may have to succumb to the brownberry hell too...for donornet..oy

PJ Geraghty said...

Welcome back...have missed your posts. You may resent the crackberry now, but it will help distract you during the dull parts of Collaborative meetings.

I mean, uh, it would distract you if there were any dull parts at Collaborative meetings. Which there aren't. Of course.

Love Monkey said...

Love Monkey just checking in here.

A few points to add.

First, a good and funny if a bit recklessly exaggerated post. And I would like to add that I hate the Smackberry with the passion of a thousand suns. It is slow, unintuitive and awkard. Plus it makes a gaggle of noises for no good reason at ungodly hours (read: anytime I am asleep)

For the record, however, I must clarify the ants do seem only to appear on the rare occassion that sugar has been spilled AND my daughter is not a goat. But the block situation is completely out of hand.

Love Monkey said...

LM again.

The word you are grasping for is Agita. "Agita" is not a standard Italian word, and linguists are not certain where came from. Seeing how you are half italian (like me) but your half is more recently come to these shores maybe I have a little advantage here.

You won't find "agita" in most dictionaries, although it is a quintessential Italian-American slang word. Strictly speaking, "agita" is a stomach upset or heartburn. But "agita" can also mean that special kind of existential dyspepsia of the soul you get when absolutely everything goes wrong. Comedian Jackie Mason has explained "agita" as "when you have been aggravated to the point where it feels like you have a serious migraine headache throughout your whole body."

One possible source is the Italian word "agitare" ("to agitate" or "to trouble"), which in turn came from the Latin "agitare," which meant "to stir up." I know that I will be very agitado if we don't make it back to Venice or Sienna or Cinque Terre very soon.

Mother Jones RN said...

I feel you mommy guilt.

I've never been able to figure out how to use one of those devices. Good thing, too. I'm soooo addicted to my computer, I shouldn't tempt fate by buying a crackberry.

By the way, I love your blog.

Anonymous said...

It was once explained to me that what we're pronouncing as "agita" comes from a mispronouciation of "angina'! People are frequently clutching their chests when declaring they have "agita", so it sort of makes sense..... people were diagnosed with angina, which can be exacerbated when the pt is stressed, couldn't pronounce it and.. there ya go! Although I do like the "agitated" explanation as well!

Anonymous said...

We will all soon be in "Blackberry Hell" so I will to feel your pain in the near future...Great blog

TC said...

Thanks, and Love Monkey....get your own blog.