My old mobile couldn’t talk for very long anymore. You know how it goes – it would charge all the way and last forever if you only wanted to SMS people and tell the time, but call someone and within 5 minutes or so it’s bleating for some juice.
Poor little chook, and it feels like I’ve had it forever. The numbers are worn off the keypad and I can set the alarm in the dark half asleep.
So I went into the Telstra shop, and said “I’m out of contract and I want a new phone.”
Erin helped me out.
And by that, I mean that Erin confused the fuck out of me with a torrent of technojumbo and shiny things with far far too many features. Reeling and intimidated, I did what I did last time, and said “I want a nokia, and give me a fairly simple one.”
So here I am with the Nokia N80, which has more computing power than my first 3 computers *put*together*.
It’s not even officially a phone, it’s a “multimedia device”.
Actually, it’s kinda hard to use it as a phone – that command is about 5 or 6 actions down the menu structure. It has a little blue light that keeps flashing, it came with more cables than my laptop. It’s clearly a hardcore piece of technology and I’m not sure I should have it.
I’m starting to think I should have just scrounged around and got a new battery and keypad for my old one. At least I didn’t need my glasses on to operate it, and I could make a call with just my thumb. This is exactly how the Cylons end up destroying us isn’t it? This thing can connect to the internet – in fact I don’t know how to *not* make it do that. Maybe I’ll be okay as long as it doesn’t remember my credit card number. Maybe it has a swipe reader I haven’t found in the manual yet.
We may have to institute Turing tests for these posts.
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