My Life on a Plate

Ring Ring

I love nothing more than communicating with people. Computers are the perfect tool for this in my mind. I enjoy chatting to people; family, friends and sometimes strangers I meet during my day. I still quite enjoy writing letters too but if there's one form of communication that irritates me to death it's the telephone. I know they serve a purpose and can be great for emergencies but I sometimes wish Alexander Graham Bell had never been born.

I've reached that age where every time the phone rings I think it's bad news for a start. Then there's this unwritten law which states no one else in the house can hear it ringing except for me. The men's logic tells me they don't answer it because it's probably for me anyway. Nine times out of ten it isn't and I lose count how often I have to go play hide and seek to find the man the caller wants. If hubby does happen to be in the house when it rings his first comment is ALWAYS 'Who's that?' I do believe I have some psychic ability but have yet to develop the skill to know who's calling without picking up the receiver. Which I do, at least ten times a day. This blog has already been interrupted twice while I've answered the damned thing then gone in search of the person it's for.

Contrary to the song and popular opinion I don't talk on the telephone for hours. The only person I speak to by choice for any length of time is my sister. I find it frustrating, tiresome and boring if I'm honest just sitting or standing in one spot with a piece of plastic to my ear. On the whole the balance of conversation is generally very one sided with people and I find myself only contributing 'yes,' 'no,' 'mmmm,' and 'really' on most occasions.

Like yesterday when my friend Gillian rang just as I was getting ready to go out. To say Gillian can talk for England is a gross understatement and she generally phones to tell me over about half an hour that she's been so busy all day she never has time to sit down and relax. I resist the temptation to ask her why she doesn't do it instead of phoning to tell me about it, but I swear I could put the phone down on the table and go and make a cup of tea and she wouldn't notice I'd gone.

Then there's the parents. If I don't see them during the day I always ring at night to make sure they're okay. My dad is a little deaf to say the least and I suspect my mum is too but would never admit it. After their phone has rung about 40 times I tend to give up. I used to fear something was wrong; imagine they'd been burgled and were lying injured on the floor or something, then go tearing round to their house to find them sitting comfortably in front of the T.V. Now I don't bother but I know I'll suffer for it.

The next day mother will say, 'I thought you were going to phone last night?' giving me that 'you're neglecting us' look.

'I did, but you didn't answer. I don't think you heard it.'

'No, I'd hear it. The phone didn't ring here. Are you sure you dialled the right number?' AHHHHHHHH

But these are the worst things about telephones in my opinion.

That rare evening when you get some time alone, light candles, pour a glass of wine, run a hot bubbly bath, step in and...the damned phone rings.

People who ask 'Have I told you about Aunt Sarah's brother's daughter's cousin's cat?' So you say yes and they proceed to tell you again.

Sales people who always ring just as you start your dinner. When my son was younger I used to get him to answer it, then tell him to say, 'I'll get my mum,' then just leave the phone on the table. Amazing how long they'd hang on waiting too.

Automatic replies. Pressing numbers, hash keys, entering codes, waiting to speak to a real person while listening to 'Greensleeves' for the umpteenth time.

I've a poem in my folder on my feelings about mobile phones but things have worstened since the introduction of a certain ringtone. Children here don't say 'mummy' or 'daddy' as their first word any longer. Oh no, now it's 'A ringdingding...dddingdingding...baambaambaam...wheeee. Drives me CRAZY! And I've gone right off frogs too.

Excuse me, I've got to go. The ****** phone's ringing.