Texting and Of: Why I Now Find Texting Somewhat Book

I must preface this entry with a "Shut up, E and One-F Man."

Now I shall commence.

So yes, I hate all things trendy, especially cell phones. And yes: despite that, I now text message. I'm not too proud to admit that it was the possibility of getting laid (coupled with the fact that I dislike talking on the phone) that sucked me into that blackhole. Perhaps that will help you understand. It was all a downward spiral after that. But yes, I'm now a texter.

My favorite part of text-messaging is the Rapid Entry feature (for reasons beyond just the fact that it sounds kind of naughty). I'm not hip. At all. So I'm not sure whether it's common knowledge how this feature works, so I shall explain: You know how, when you want to type in the word LOVE, you have to hit 5 three times (for L), 6 three times (for O), 8 three times (for V), and 3 two times (for E)? Well, this feature allows you to just type in each number singly (so for LOVE, you'd just hit 5-6-8-3). And as you type each number, your phone begins to pare down which word it thinks you are aiming for and eventually plugs it in for you. The problem is, it's not always correct.

It is fascinating to see what words it favors over others. Sometimes its choices are immensely irritating--the fact that it chooses "of" instead of "me" makes for lots of revisions. But other times it offers up endless fun. For instance, when you try to type in "cool" with this feature on, it plugs in the word "book" instead. My friend P and I have begun referring to cool things as being "book" because of this. (Example: Text 1--"I found myself a really cute pair of shoes the other day." Text 2--"Very very book. What do they look like?") I find it fascinating that my phone assumes it more likely that someone will be texting someone else about a "book" rather than noting that something is "cool." In the land of technology and digital modernity, this somehow seems backwards.

Another such example happened the other day, when I accidentally called my friend Bo a "fork" instead of a "dork," courtesy of rapid entry. Because clearly, there MUST be a higher rate of texted utensil-conversations than there is random name-calling, and thus, a higher need for easily-accessible utensil-related vocabulary.

My all-time favorite, however, happened during an ice-storm this winter, when I texted my friend Mo to tell her "I'll come pick you up. That way we don't slip and fall on the icy sidewalks on our way there." Rapid Entry translation: "I'll come pick you up. That way we don't slip and fall on the gay sidewalks on our way there."

Seriously: endless fun.

And again: Shut it, E and One-F Man.

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