Brandeis contacted me and requested I apply to their Neurobiology, Molecular/Cell Biology, or Biochemistry (grad school) program due to my "solid GRE scores." They'll waive my application fee.
I can't help but wonder if this is some sort of Hanukah joke.
Anyway, on to my entry:
I'm tech-challenged.
I know how to turn on the computer (insert lame, pervy joke here), and all that shit, but the moment it starts acting up, God- help us all! I just turn it off and hope it works itself out.
My phone? I call, text, and occasionally check e-mail. Well, I do get on-line, once in a while. But games? Negative. Music? Hell no. Ringtones? It's a motherfucking circus!
Television? The bigger, the better, I guess. And I like LCD for some reason... I don't really care for plasma. Why? I wouldn't know how to tell you beyond "The glare on a plasma sucks dick!"
And that's all the technology I know (ok, game consoles are fun. I can handle that too).
My parents, however... those poor people are dinosaurs compared to me. Big time.
They don't know how to turn on a computer. They don't even understand how a computer works (I can say mom gets the gist of it. Pops? NOT. AT. ALL. He'll try talking to it and expect a reaction from the damn thing). We've given up on teaching them.
They have the same views as me when it comes to television. Big = Nice. We want nice.
The phone? Well! Let me tell you about their cell phones:
Mom... the woman doesn't even try. She has a Razr, you know, the blue ones from '06 or whatever the fuck. She only has a calling plan. Texts can go to hell for all she cares. She recently learned how to use her camera, and that's probably the only thing she likes about the phone. She'll snap shots of anything... even cement-- no kidding. But the calling... if she gets to her phone on time, good for her! If she misses it, too damn bad "if it's important they'll call one of you girls." She rarely has the phone anywhere near her... rarely answers it, and of course, this drives me ape shit. She will, however, walk into my room at 2 in the morning and expect me to text my little sister if she's still out drinking. Frustrating.
Dad... he knows how to get to his voicemail by random flukes. He straight up presses random buttons and crosses his fingers. This is considering I've instructed him on how to go about this about three times now. He does talk A LOT on it, thought. He has that thing on him even when he's stuck in the bathroom, taking a shit... and he'll answer it, too.
Most recently, I was put in grave danger thanks to his cell-phone-loving ways. His new truck has that hands-free feature thing (ta-da! And so my tech-retardation rears its ugly head. I have no idea how to properly explain this shit beyond that. Maybe it's blue-tooth... but since I've only messed with that shit ONCE to try to get a photo from my phone sent to my laptop--venture which I failed at QUITE miserably-- I have left that bastard concept alone). He is so proud of this feature... but like with everything, he is quite... slow... when it comes to this. He was trying to show off for LittleSister and me, and he tried answering his phone using only his steering wheel the moment someone happened to call him. We were on our way to a family party, so Sister and I were quite irritated to begin with.
Next thing we know, he swerves and nearly collides head-on with a semi.
Me: Ok, Dad, we get it. Your truck has yet another cool feature... can you please drive and not get me killed as you try to answer your phone?
He didn't stop. Mom decided to join in on the action and only made things more convoluted by talking to the truck... and the truck talking back. I was just... I sat there, in amazed horror, and stared at my future.
Fuck... I should have really taken a computer class besides the ONE required computer class back in 6th grade.
We did make it to and from our destination in one piece (But I was more horrified when I jumped out of the truck and I realized I'd be in my parent's spot a lot sooner... since I'm aging rapidly. First thing out of my mouth once I jumped out of the truck was "AH! MY KNEES!" In my defense, that truck is fucking HUGE!).
That is only one example of how technology can be dangerous in the hands of dinosaurs.
The next example is the most irritating danger.
My mom's sister is NOT like my mom. Her kids thought it would be a great idea to hook her up to the modern age, and gave her the latest version of the Blackberry (at the time, since now they have the Torch version or whatever).
Ok, whatever. Good luck with that, Tia.
She showed me the same day she got her phone... and asked me how to work her Facebook and Twitter applications.
Me: Uh... you have to first set it up on an actual desktop computer. You know... those big computers. So the apps are pretty useless, sorry. (LIE! I know. But come on! I'm covering my ass over here)
Tia: Hmmm... I guess I'll have to ask MiddleSon to create one for me next time I visit him. That way I can see what you're up to! I've heard a lot of things about Feis-Buk.
HELP ME, GOD!
So I sort of averted that crisis.
But of course, my peace wouldn't last too long.
She learned to text.
Fuck me. Fuck me! FUCK ME!
If I'm not getting a poorly written text message asking me to ask my mother something for her (she uses Spanish TXT speak... which... it honestly takes me about three minutes to decipher a sentence or two), I'm getting the most despicable of text message imaginable:
CHAIN TEXTS!
Graaaaaaarrrrg!
"If you love Jesus send this to..."
"Can you see Jesus in this photo? Send to..."
"If you are ashamed of me on Earth, I will be ashamed of you in front of my father. Send this to..."
"Jesus died on the cross for you! What will you do for him? Send to..."
TIA! I go to church every weekend! I sit next to you! Do I really need to send this to 30 more people? Most of my friends are atheist, muslim, or Jewish. Come on now! I don't need to prove my devotion to anyone, much less make them uncomfortable with it.
Worst of all (!!!) she sends my sister chain texts...
but extremely raunchy ones that make us laugh for more than a minute.
I don't get those!
WTF?!
It appears that even to grown-ass elderly women, I am a complete and total BORE! A fuckin... a freakin' nun (that swears like a sailor?). Just send me to a fu... 'reakin' convent already!
Really? REALLY?!
WAHHH! I wanna be fun!
... then again, I can use this to my advantage, right?
Saint AnoMALIE: praying and helping others by day... drinkin' boys under the table by night (because she ain't about to do ANYTHING else to boys under the table... because she has trust issues).
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