Yes, I'm coveting your phone . . . and your ability to use it

Last night, I had a girls’ night out with a group of former colleagues. We shared drinks and laughs and spring rolls and had several meaningful conversations about shoes.

While admiring everyone’s accessories, I couldn’t help but notice that my friends all have much cooler cell phones than I do.

Their phones have keyboards and GPS and Internet and cool ring-tones.

Mine has 78 photos of the inside of my purse.

Not that I’d actually know what to do with a cool cell phone if I had one, but since I’ve managed to get the hang of tweeting and blogging over the past two weeks, I have high hopes that I will someday own and master such a device.

Then again, my history with text messaging suggests otherwise.

I received my very first text message about two years ago. I was so pleased with myself for being able to open it, and even more pleased that it required only a simple “yes” or “no” reply.

I fumbled with the buttons for the better part of the morning. Finally, I managed to reply with neither “yes” nor “no,” but “moss.”

Surprisingly, my friend did not find this helpful.

Several months later, I got my second text message. It was the same friend, and this time we were both celebrating the outcome of an election. I meant to type something clever and witty, like “f**k yeah” (which is considered very clever and witty after five glasses of wine).

The response I sent was “feed.”

Thoroughly annoyed with me, my friend took my phone away the next time we met and magically reprogrammed it so I could send text messages that actually made sense.

In theory, anyway.

A new problem has arisen now that I’ve managed to send more than a handful of text messages. My phone – helpful creature that it is – feels compelled to complete words for me based on similar words I’ve typed in the past.

Considering the words I’ve typed in the past, this isn’t a good thing. Recently, I tried to text a friend to let her know that I would see her the next night.

Naturally, my phone concluded that I was trying to tell my friend I would see her next nipple.

So I haven’t managed to master technology yet, but I’m trying. Who knows? Maybe amid all this blogging and texting and tweeting, I’ll even find time to write another book.