The iPhone lifestyle
Sarah Swiderski | Sunday, January 27, 2013
This past Christmas I ditched my Samsung slide-phone and joined the iPhone community. My previous phone, “Sammy,” and I had a love-hate relationship. It would turn on and off by itself and would sometimes fail to send messages. On the bright side, it was indestructible.
My phone would often make its way to the bottom of my backpack and hide under notebooks and textbooks resulting in many accidental calls to people who I knew in high school but forgot to delete their numbers. Despite the abuse of being crushed under a Shakespeare text and a calculus book, my phone would come out untouched. I’m pretty sure the phone would survive the apocalypse.
I use to leave old Sammy in my dorm room. I often would forget to charge my phone and, to the dismay of many, I would forget my voicemail password, resulting in miscommunication and receiving less then pleasant phone calls .
However, all of that changed on Christmas morning. My parents decided to get me a smartphone to help me as I job search and become more organized. The theory was I would now be able to check my email and not miss important updates if I didn’t have my computer to check my account. The new phone was meant to make my life easier.
For the most part it accomplished that. I now remember the password to my voicemail, check my email regularly, and have not had an accident-dial yet. I can now take pictures and send them to far away family and friends. But although life is easier, it is more stressful.
My first week back at school was spent in fear my phone would go off in class because I hadn’t quite mastered the art of silencing all the notifications, buzzing and jingles. I finally figured out how to turn them off, but now I haven’t figured out how to get some of them back.
Having a smartphone is a newfound responsibility for me. I feel like I have to constantly check my email to make sure I don’t miss anything. Every time I get a push notification I have to see what is. I have to remember to charge my phone and not to let it fall to the bottom of my bag lest it should shatter. I feel like I can’t leave my room without it. It’s as if I have an invisible set of handcuffs chaining me to my iPhone. That being said, I’m not sure I could go back to a “dumb” phone. The apps and functions are just way too convenient for me, which is probably why I can’t go anywhere without my phone now.
Perhaps I just need to learn to be more mature about my cell phone use. Maybe I just need to imagine I still have Sammy. One thing is for sure: how I look at a phone will never be the same.