strung out on black

Berry, that is.

I just got a new barakberry blackberry. I earned it after carrying around a dinosaur of a cell phone for the past few years, waiting patiently for my contract renewal date.

I've been wanting some sort of smart phone ever since I saw Obama with one got my first PDA and realized what a pain it was to keep up with two pieces of tech equipment: charged, updated and on my person. Oh wait, make that three devices, when you count my laptop. Three communication gadgets carried back and forth between home and office. There must be an easier way.

And then there's the butt problem. How does a woman carry a cell phone in her back pocket, a PDA in the other and simultaneously camouflage twenty thirty unwanted pounds of lard ass? Note to Madison Avenue: design women's dress pants with gadget pockets located somewhere besides the derriere and with a bit more style than these:

Back to the crackberry blackberry. Be careful what you wish for because when you get it you won't be able to see the tiny print on the screen, add a phone number, set your speed dial, figure out the bass-ackward keypad, or change the ring tone, even. Be prepared to spend a four day weekend with your eyes squinting at a 2x3 inch screen, shaking it, cursing at it, and realizing your brain has turned to oatmeal.

Yes, I read the manual. Yes, I took the little tutorial. Minimal help. WTF? I have a PhD and a PDA but I can't figure out how to call my own office?

I guess I should swallow my pride and take my know it all tech savvy teenager up on his offer to take over my cell phone teach me. This is why I took such care in the gestating, feeding, caring and protecting of my children, right? So they can one day surpass me and roll their eyes as if to say, "Get out of the way, moron."

But another reason for letting my son do it: Research shows that the teen brain learns so much faster than adult brains, giving them a natural edge at mastering new technology. It explains, for example, how my son's had his laptop less than a year but has already learned more shortcuts than I have picked up in twenty.

And as this video proves, it isn't just me frustrated with the crippled learning curve.
P.S. Pardon the foul language. Or if you're like me, relish it.