"What? Are you on fire? No? Quit wasting my time; text me that shit!" Aziz Ansari
Admittedly, I was slow getting into the swing of technology: late to have a cell phone, and I came in about 2-3 years after texting was a thing. But now that it's in my life? Holy texting, Batman!
I LOVE TEXTING.
I can't emphasize this enough. It is all the good things about succinct communication, with the added benefit of emoticons to drive a point home.
I'm not very good at IM, PM, or FB messenger. It's enormously disconcerting to have shit pop-up while I'm mid-thought...and in Facebook, I've juggled several tandem conversations and thought I was going to lose my nut.
And I am shame-faced to admit that I love getting into a formal, are-you-really-going-there email rant/discussion. I love writing, and I'll beat a misunderstanding or grievance to death with grammar, kindness and 'Oh, No You Didn't'. It gives me a perverse sense of pleasure.
Talking on the phone? Not so much, unless it's my mom. My mom doesn't live in California and I only get to see her a couple times a year, so we've spent hours on the phone. She doesn't text, although secretly I wish she did. Mostly because she is hopeless with technology, and I am the cruel person who would love to see how that actually played out. It would make great for excellent blog material. For my kids, I actually have a siren-type ringer set on my phone for each of their numbers - because if they're calling me? It's an emergency.
Skype or Facetime? No, and hell no. Just no. I am far too obsessed about what I look like that it drives me to distraction. I spent the majority of a recent Skype call with my daughter's college adviser smoothing my hair, which never resonates confidence.
My honey? We rarely talk or text during the work day because we're both too busy. Besides, I prefer good old-fashioned face-to-face time with him, any day of the week. *wink, wink*