Jessica McFarland

I don’t relax enough. I work regular hours at a job I get paid for, and then I come home and usually do more work, for which I don’t get paid.

I realised it was starting to wear on me, making me pessimistic and stressed out and generally not a fantastic person.

I used to know how to relax, I’m sure of it. One day I decided to seriously think about it. When I used to relax, I mean, seriously relax, de-stress, forget about everything, what was I doing?

Reading a book? Books are lovely and I adore them, but they aren’t enough to hold my attention if I have a lot going on.
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I am writing this post by hand, and I have therefore decided to write about writing by hand, in a dizzying circle of meta-analysis.

I don’t normally do this by hand, at least, not for anything that will eventually be typed. I do keep a hand-written journal. Or two, or ten. Actually one could say that I am obsessive about journalling, as there is a large box full of notebooks at my parents’ house, each meticulously scrawled with what was, I’m sure, important at that time. But none of that will ever see the light of day, unless of course I marry a Prince of Wales.

So it is a bit strange to be using a pen now. Granted, it does have its advantages: a pen is not as heavy to carry as a laptop, with the added bonus of not worrying if it is smashed or stolen (incidentally, this is why I think the Kindle will never replace books).
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“But of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thine mp3 player shalt surely be incompatible, and thy printer shall lose functionality.” (Genesis 2:17, King Jobs Version)

The ipad hit Britain yesterday, in a flurry of wall-sized ads at Underground stations and a wave of general lust. This seems like as good an excuse as any to weigh in on the minor religion that is Apple.
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My internet is being slow.

I’m talking, really slow. Like, 1990s dial-up slow. Like, click on a link, go to the kitchen, get a drink, put dinner in the oven, and come back to find that the page still hasn’t loaded. That slow.

And it’s driving me up the frickin’ wall.

In contrast to when I lost my smartphone, I’m finding I do not have the ability to rationalise this loss with memories of a simpler time, for example, when using the internet meant leaving the house and going to university, the library, or an internet cafe. Before Facebook, with its continual stream of trivial but somehow necessary information. Before wi-fi, when the computer needed to be connected to the “house phone line” (I’ve pretty much forgotten what that is; I certainly don’t have one). Or before internet at all. Yes, I remember those times.

I remember that they sucked. (more…)

I have a mobile phone. It makes calls. It sends texts. It does very little else.

Why is this? you may well ask. Am I:

1. afraid of technology?
2. too lazy to go get an upgrade? or simply
3. making an effort to be minimalist?

No, I would answer. It is, in fact, a result of my being relieved of my Nokia 5800 Xpress Music somewhere on Old Kent Road, Peckham. Whether I left it at the ASDA checkout or it was taken from my purse on the bus, I don’t know, and I fear I never shall. It doesn’t matter. It’s gone.

It wasn’t the best phone, if I’m honest. The touch screen occasionally gave me fits, and the handy little slide-in stylus slid out one day and I never saw it again. Also, if I asked it to do more than one thing at a time, it became overwhelmed and turned itself off. (Ha, I wish I could do that when anyone asked me to multitask!)

But there were a lot of good things about it, too. Having it meant I would never be without music on a bus, I would always have a camera handy, and I could never get completely lost, thanks to GPS. Plus there was the internet. Oh, the internet. I could look up whatever information I’d left at home, plus random tidbits on Wikipedia, and send any emails that absolutely couldn’t wait a couple hours. In my pocket.

And then suddenly it was gone. Of course I had it immediately blocked and switched my number to a new SIM card. And of course I didn’t have insurance on my absent phone (as if I’d pay for that! I never lose phones!…well now I’ve lost one), but that was okay too, because I had an unlocked phone to use. It was…wait for it….

A Nokia 1100. I never recycled it because it was only worth £1! And this is what I would be reduced to using, given the ridiculous costs involved in getting a new phone mid-contract. Oh yes, I know how ridiculous those costs are, because I looked into them. The thought of going from the all-singing, all-dancing, does-everything-but-the-washing-up 8GB GPS enabled smartphone to a tiny, monochrome screen gave me chills, and yet, I couldn’t really justify the expense of getting anything better. So I resigned myself to my new low-tech existence and left all the shiny new phones in their boxes at Carphone Warehouse.

That was over a week ago, and the most amazing thing has happened since. No, I didn’t find my old phone in the couch cushions, though I haven’t actually looked there…okay no, it’s not there. It’s still gone. But, quite unexpectedly, I love this crummy old phone! These are all the reasons why the Nokia 1100 is better than the much newer, much more expensive phone I lost:

1. I don’t have to take it out of a protective case to look at the time. It’s right there on the screen.
2. It’s got a torch on the end!
3. The buttons were made to be pressed by humans, not telepathic cyber-beings who also have toothpick fingers.
4. The monophonic ringtones are never hip, and certainly never soothing, but are always audible.
5. The composer function. I made my own un-hip monophonic ringtones. (If you’ve been on London public transport recently and heard beeps to the tune of “Take on me” by A-ha, that was me.)
6. It’s indestructible, and finally…
7. No one will ever steal it. Who would bother?

And after all, I did survive for 20-something years without a fancy phone (and most of those years without a mobile phone at all, but let’s not get out of control here). So I don’t have GPS? I can print maps off of google, or leave a little earlier, or pay attention to my surroundings. So I don’t have an mp3 player? I have a book. So I don’t have a camera? Actually, I do have a camera. A really nice one, which I will use more often now.

So I’m enjoying my little just-a-phone quite a bit. And perhaps I can start a new fashion trend. Sort of a retro-chic. Cooler than an iphone. How cool do you need to be to have an iphone, anyway? Everybody’s got one. Yeah, I’m going to rock this old phone. And then maybe I’ll get a portable cassette player to go with it. Everyone will want to jump onto this new trend. Just wait. It’ll happen.