My BlackBerry, myself

Over the winter break, I became one of many people worldwide who can walk into a room and pretend to be important.

A brief glance at my brand new BlackBerry Curve 8900 is clear evidence to many observers that I must attend to important, time-sensitive matters; however, this is almost never the case. To be honest, it’s simply very entertaining to play with my BlackBerry.

When I’m not texting ardently or on the phone, I’m browsing the Internet, using BlackBerry messenger or taking a photo. Normally I’m also listening to music.

I’m not trying to brag about the versatile capabilities of my BlackBerry (even though it’s truly amazing), but instead I’m trying to illustrate the addictive nature of BlackBerries.

I may sound like I suffer from CrackBerry-ism, but I consider myself a responsible user of technology. I never talk on my cell phone when driving a car and I usually empty the bathtub of water before using electronics within its vicinity.

Despite my caution when using technology, I failed to realize the detrimental events that might follow the purchase of my BlackBerry.

Walking around with a BlackBerry means I almost never see my friends if they pass me because my mind, hands and eyes are occupied.

When I’m listening to music, people might call my name but I don’t hear them. It also means that when people see me they think I’m either stressed, rude or too busy to care (I hope I’m none of these things).

A few days ago, my love for my precious BlackBerry was shaken to the core by a disconcerting incident that changed the way I interact with it. I was walking home while simultaneously texting my housemate, because there was something of no real importance I decided I had to tell her although I was only two minutes from my front doorway.

My eyes were locked on the screen and I had removed my gloves to facilitate speedy texting. I’m sure it’s no surprise to you that the sidewalk was covered in a layer of ice.

But I didn’t slip on the icy sidewalk, as you might expect. Instead, I tripped over a two-foot pile of shovelled snow that was in the middle of the path.

Had I not been using my BlackBerry at the time, the pile of snow and ice would have been extremely easy to see.

I completely wiped out, but luckily I saved my BlackBerry. I had it shielded in my hands, so although my hands were left scratched and bleeding, my BlackBerry remained undamaged. My knees are still bruised, and my jeans are tattered, but of course the main injury was to my pride.

I write this editorial as a warning: Although BlackBerries are amazing, fantastic and make life easier, please remember it isn’t necessary to be on them all the time.

If I can’t convince you of this, look up at least once in a while from staring intently at one of its astounding features. Don’t wait until you’re sprawled out on a sidewalk.