There are no words in the English language to adequately describe the unbridled hatred I feel for the technology that surrounds me.
First, there’s my Blackberry. You know when you’re driving through farm/mushroom country and the air is suddenly so thick with fresh shit that you gag violently as you breathe, but you have no choice but to breathe (because it’s required to sustain life and all) so you power through but you hate every second of it and you’re bitter – BITTER! – about the farmers and their cows/pigs/chickens/mushrooms? That’s how I feel about my Blackberry.
I am quite certain I am only utilizing a small fraction of its (alleged) incredibleness – in part because I am a dolt, but mostly because I am too lazy to read the 157-page instruction manual (written in 8pt font, by the way). For instance, I recently learned that I can sync information from my Blackberry to my computer and vice versa (I think). Evidently, that’s the main reason people use and love them so. And here I thought it was because of the Facebook app (which only works about 72% of the time).
Recently, my Blackberry has been freezing. I finish a call and hang up, but the screen still says ‘connected’. Whenever it happens, I have to take the battery out of the phone, put it back in and wait for the phone to power up again – a process that takes about 7-8 minutes. I have been told the only way to fix this problem is to buy an iPhone. While I am tempted to do that at least once a day, I fear the situation will only get worse, given the fact that I am still perplexed by my MacBook (which is supposedly designed to be simple enough for a squirrel to master).
Then there’s my car. I drive a Kia Sportage. Evidently, the ‘sport’ is fury. It’s a stretch to call it ‘technology’. It’s about as technological an achievement as the abacus. It is the worst car I’ve owned since my 1980 Chevy Chevette. It runs fine, but I’m pretty sure it’s made of aluminum foil and scotch tape. Little things randomly go haywire or stop working. Sometimes I’ll start the car and all of the lights will start blinking and clicking for no reason. One of the power outlets stopped working about two weeks after I bought it. One day my husband reached for the little handle thingy over the passenger-side door – the one you grab when the lunatic driver is (allegedly) taking a turn a little too fast – and it broke off. Oh, and keyless remote only works occasionally.
Me: OMG, my effing keyless remote doesn’t work! What I am going to do now???
Jack: What do you mean?
Me: I mean how am I going to get into the car?!?
Me: Oh…never mind.
Finally, there’s the nightmare known as my washing machine and dryer.
Oh, dear GOD.
I had to had to HAD TO have a front-loading washer and dryer set (with pedestals!) Ooooh, sooo pretty!!
First of all, high efficiency my ass. A load of wash takes an eternity. I would tell you the exact time, but I don’t know it because THE TIMER IS A CRUEL JOKE. I load the damn thing to the gills (because it doesn’t drain properly unless it’s full…do you know how much laundry those stupid things hold??), choose the setting and the ‘timer’ displays 1:21. Or 1:17. Or 1:09. Or 0:49. Or some other number that has absolutely nothing to do with the time it will take for the cycle to finally finish. Here’s how a wash cycle typically goes:
Step 1: Cram 47 lbs of laundry into washing machine. Add laundry detergent. Choose setting. Hear washing machine lock click. Notice that you’ve forgotten one article of clothing. Hit ‘Pause’ button. Wait two minutes for machine to unlock. Open door. Notice laundry detergent running down front of machine. Use forgotten article of clothing to wipe up laundry detergent. Cram forgotten article into machine. Stop other items from falling out of machine. Slam door shut. Hit ‘Start’ button.
Step 2: Check load 45 minutes later. Note that timer says 0:08. Go about your business.
Step 3: Momentarily stop breathing when 3.4 earthquake causes entire house to shake. Resume breathing upon realizing it’s just the spin cycle.
Step 4: Check load 20 minutes later. Note that timer says 0:03. Curse. Go about your business.
Step 5: Check load 15 minutes later. Note that timer says 0:01. Decide to wait it out. Give up after five minutes. Curse.
Step 6: Check load 10 minutes later. Express joy that timer says 0:00 – load is finally finished! Open door to find that laundry is soaking wet. Close door. Hit ‘Drain and Spin’. Note that timer says 0:15. Roll eyes. Curse. Vow never to purchase anything made in China again. Go about your business.
Step 7: Check load 40 minutes later. Look skeptically at timer that says 0:00. Open door to find that laundry is finally finished, but tied in the tightest of knots. Spend 10 minutes detangling 171 articles of clothing (some of which may be torn/shredded). Curse China. Place items in dryer. Choose dryer setting. Mock timer on dryer. Go about your business.
Step 8: Check load 30 minutes later. Note that timer says 0:00. Sigh with relief that the ordeal is over. Open dryer to find 171 articles of clothing tied in a giant ball and wrinkled beyond recognition. Peel articles of clothing off from the top. Note that articles in the center of the ball are still damp. Curse. Restart dryer.
I desperately want to get rid of my washer and dryer and go back to my mismatched old-school Maytag/Whirlpool set. I’ve thought about selling my fancy front loaders on Craigslist, but I’m afraid the buyer will hunt me down and kill me once they realize the sheer horribleness of the goods I’ve sold. Maybe he’d be willing to spare my life if I offered to throw in my fridge…until he found out that the ice maker only works sporadically.