In July, 2008, I, Princess Rachella, Intrepid African American Girl International Journalism Consultant, pulled up stakes once again and headed to Nairobi, Kenya. Through my various adventures, I've concluded that if I get any MORE explosively fabulous in these prequel years to "THE BIG 5-0," I will have to register myself with the Pentagon as a thermonuclear incendiary device.

Friday, May 16, 2008

The Blacker the Berry, the Tighter the Noose....

I've been in New York City the past few days, and I am absolutely diggin' the vibe. I'm staying with my mondo-intellectual friend Ilaina on the Upper West Side, and we're having a hoot eating, gabbing, and getting caught up on each other's lives. There is nothing like NYC anywhere on earth. The energy here is totally outrageous.

Perfect example.... on Wednesday night, I took the subway from 103rd and Broadway to the Christopher Street stop in Greenwich Village, trying to get to my friend Katherine's apartment. I've written about Katherine before....she's one of my "heart friends," the kind you have a total aortic connection with, no matter how much time has passed or where you are on the globe, or whatever has gone down in your life. She's freelancing now, just got back from Paris on assignment, is heading to Costa Rica tomorrow for another assignment.....such a life, OY!

Anyway, we hadn't seen each other in ages, so I was deeply geeked when she offered to cook dinner for me that night. I felt so cosmopolitan and chic heading down to the Village on the 1 train.....until I remembered that Katherine had sent me directions to her place by e-mail, and I had forgotten to check my Yahoo account on Ilaina's laptop before heading out. I knew I could call Katherine to get the details, but I was slightly irritated with myself.

Outside the subway station, I thought maybe I could find a Kinko's or some Internet cafe
so I could print out the directions. That way I wouldn't have to admit to Katherine that perimenopause has reduced the memory portion of my brain to a bowl of soupy tapioca.
But then it hit me.....check your freakin' Blackberry phone, dummy!

Yes, I have finally joined the dark side. For YEARS I have avoided owning a Blackberry, because I simply refused to be that available to ANYBODY. The idea that people could reach you by phone and e-mail 24-7 just did not gibe with my myriad commitment issues. Besides, it has really pissed me off whenever I've tried to hold a conversation with someone who's completely absorbed in sending or responding to e-mail.

Ironically, the first time I ever tried to use a Blackberry was in Gulu. Just as I was leaving Uganda, the local phone company that had made our lives a living hell by providing poor and non-existent phone and Internet service decided to make amends by offering us Blackberries.

Of course they didn't work, either. I was so pissed, I took it with me when I left, hoping maybe I could figure out how to use it when I got back to the States. Needless to say, I quickly learned that a Blackberry tailored for use in Uganda is totally useless in the U.S. Eventually, I wound paying a pound of flesh to send the damned thing BACK to Gulu, but it was my own dumb fault for taking it in the first place.

Anyhoo, just this past Monday, I was walking by an electronics store and saw that my phone provider was offering this outrageous promotion on the Blackberry Curve. After $200 worth of instant rebates, I could walk out with a Blackberry for $52. Sure, I'd wind up using the inheritance intended for any future children I might adopt to pay the monthly bill on the damned contraption, but at least I'd be able to join the rest of the 21st Century by sporting my own personal blood red "Crackberry."

However, I digress. Let's get back to the Greenwich Village rendezvous. Once I realized I was carrying Internet access in my handbag, I simply checked my Blackberry and got directions to Katherine's place. It's actually quite amazing....having all the information you need in the palm of your hand.

But I'm already starting to see why they call it the "Crackberry." I find myself checking it about 10 times a minute. I have 4 e-mail accounts routed to the one phone, so it's a juggling act trying to keep up with all of them every time you look at the damned thing. I can see now that I'll wind up being chained to my Blackberry in all the ways I've been afraid of all these years.

Still, I gotta confess....I looked so damned hip cruising down Bleecker Street checking my Blackberry. Heck, some guy even stopped me to ask for directions.

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