On my twenty-fifth birthday, life as I knew it changed. Sure, it ushered in the inevitable Era of the Existential Crisis, during which twenty-somethings slog and plod their way through the barren wasteland of quarter-life existence. But that’s not the change I’m referring to. What I’m talking about is one of the biggest decisions a person can make nowadays, one that involves mixed emotions that occur in stages: first, guilt; second, elation; and third—and this could go either way—continued elation or disillusionment. I’m talking about the switch from a Blackberry to an iPhone.

For months, I had a sinking feeling that my Blackberry was reaching the end of its somewhat short (but undeniably event-filled) life. It’s as though it knew that my youth was also withering away and it felt obliged to take the journey with me. “It” was the Tour 9630 model, the one whose defining feature was its ability to provide service across the globe. I never had a reason to actually activate this feature, seeing as how I’ve been overseas once in my life and my financial situation has made sushi dinners—let alone foreign expeditions—feel like a burden. Regardless, the Tour was my pride and joy, not to mention an impressive upgrade from the RAZR I had been using long after it was socially acceptable to do so. My Blackberry marked my entry into the world of casually texting in bars, casually texting at work, and casually texting while grocery shopping, as well as unmannerly gestures like casually placing my phone on the table at restaurants (read: Dunkin Donuts) and watching it with my peripheral vision—all novelties I had never before enjoyed. It also introduced me to the concept of having three separate email accounts accessible at all times, and knowing every time another Blackberry user read my message and opted not to respond to it STAT.

But as the months went by, and 2010 came and went, I watched my friends abandon their Blackberrys one by one, lured into the iPhone miasma, practically delirious in their enthusiasm for “apps.” I remained skeptical, standing firm in my loyalty to Blackberry even though I knew my Tour was not the spry young chicken it once had been. It was slower than it used to be and sometimes willfully neglected its smartphone duties, denying me vital information like Facebook invitations to jewelry parties and alumni mixers, and emails about Panera’s new salad. I found myself having to pull its battery out several times a week, and then more than once a day, and re-charge it on the reg. I spent more time nursing it back to health than actually using it for its intended purpose—keeping me in constant contact with even those who did not want to be in constant contact with me—and I began to resent its incompetence, helplessness, and refusal to be a team player.

Adding to my woes was my Facebook newsfeed, which was increasingly dominated by iPhone uploads, videos, check-ins, and more. I became painfully aware of my exclusion from Words with Friends and Angry Birds. I started to have some serious feelings of insecurity due to my inability to, with only a tap of a phone screen, watch Dancing with the Stars clips, auto-tune my voice, post a Yelp review (do people do this?) and manipulate photos so that everyone appears to be wearing a fat suit. It was official: my marriage to Blackberry was officially strained. It was the #firstworldproblem to end all #firstworldproblems. And then came the white screen.

My twenty-fifth birthday fell on an average, overcast Wednesday. As a brief aside, it is my opinion that birthdays have taken on a new shape in the age of the smartphone, since people have so many ways to get in touch with you. How will your friends and family choose to extend a birthday greeting? Will they text it? Tweet it? Email it? BBM it? Facebook-wall it? (Phone calls are for moms and for People Who Just Don’t Get It.) Now a good part of birthdays are spent, as mine was that fateful Wednesday, waiting for people to blow me up. If you don’t have at least twenty notifications by 10 AM, you’re doing something wrong. Sitting at my desk, I gleefully watched the little red Blackberry notification asterisks appear, mostly from people who I hadn’t spoken to in three years or more, never suspecting that with every birthday wish, my Blackberry was being punched in its metaphorical gullet. Yes, on the day I turned twenty-five, my Blackberry was on its last leg of life, perfectly in sync with my fading youth. And just as I went to text an obligatory “Thank youuuu!!” Blackberry committed the ultimate birthday partyfoul: it white screened. It white screened hard.

Looking back, I could have reacted to its death differently. I could have vowed to fight for its life and sent it away to be rehabilitated and repaired. But I didn’t. Instead, on my lunch break, I drove to the nearest Verizon store and a guy named Tim sold me an iPhone 4. It was done quickly, and without hesitation or ceremony. I was ready to embrace the genius of Steve Jobs. I was ready to be mesmerized by apps. I was ready to watch Aaron Carter’s jive whenever I wanted to, wherever I wanted to, simply because I could. I was ready for my life to change. This is what 25 would be like.

That was nearly two months ago. Since then, life hasn’t changed all that drastically. My feelings of elation subsided when I realized that my fingers are either too chubby or too clumsy to operate a touch screen with anything resembling precision. I haven’t “checked in” anywhere because the most exciting place I’ve been in the last sixty days is the Cloisters. I also haven’t YouTubed Aaron Carter’s jive (or, to be honest, Aaron Carter’s anything), played Words with Friends, or read a single Yelp review, much less post one. (Although after eating sushi at what I’m pretty sure is an opium den last weekend, don’t think it hasn’t crossed my mind.) I am happy to report that I’ve taken several high-resolution photos; however, they are all of my dog. She looks awesome in a fat suit.

In other words, life with the iPhone hasn’t been life-altering. Instead of being a twenty-five-year-old with a semi-business-professional (albeit borderline-useless) Blackberry Tour, I am a twenty-five-year-old who wastes no less than twenty minutes a day slicing fruit with a sword and trying to beat a guy named Byron at Family Feud during my lunch hour. And yet I don’t think I’ll ever return to my Blackberry days. That time, along with my early twenties, is gone. Now my Blackberry is a relic and a symbol of those years, a time capsule of moments and memories: Low-battery on the train ride home from school; a miscellaneous “PIN” that may or may not belong to that guy from that bar we went to for my friend’s twenty-third birthday; the signature blinking red light that simultaneously calmed me, haunted me, and made me a little bit high-strung.

I’ll remember these things and more with fondness. But now it’s time to “check in” to the next quarter-century of life. TC mark

image – Yutaka Tsutano


More From Thought Catalog

  • Anonymous

    And here I am, trying to decide if I want to join the horde of iphone users. Good article!!

  • Juliaa_ox

    Going to buy a new phone today, was going to get a new blackberry but seriously considering an iPhone now. So thanks?

    I think it’s funny, though, how you elaborate so extensively on the switch from one mode of technology to another. Sure it’s cute and entertaining, but in the end I do believe you’re endorsing a material society that plans for an iphone 5 in the near future. 

    • Colleen

      I’m not sure I’m endorsing it, but thanks for reading! And I’ve gotta ask–what phone did you end up getting?

  • Gregory Costa

    It’s the weirdest thing.  I know your article is about making the swith to an iPhone, but all I can think about is making the switch to Levi’s.  I don’t know what’s going on.

  • Pragmatic Pinay

    Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, street children/families are rummaging through garbage cans, looking for leftovers to eat.

    Try switching to living a day in their lives, let’s see if that switch won’t be life-altering. Or, even try explaining the Blackberry-iPhone dilemma to homeless scavengers.


    • Gregory Costa

      …so do you think my next car should be a hybrid or what?

    • Anonymous

      I bet you’re super fun to hang out with!

    • Nyt13

      3rd world countries really need to step up there game… its not “cute” acting all poor and everything…

  • Tanya Salyers

    Welcome to the iWorld.

  • Brenna

    Very funny article! Obviously it’s a little bit of a satire, I’m sure she knows about the plight of children in Africa.

  • Sophia

    I’m giving up my iPhone in January to revert to a crappy flip phone. I’m sick of technology running my life.

  • Glenn Kisela

    “it white screened. It white screened hard.” – funniest line in the whole article!

  • Asdf

    Congrats. In ’07, I switched from one of these bad boys:

    To an iPhone. Haven’t looked back since.

  • Meera Shah

    holy shit balls. i’ve never laughed so hard from reading an article before! 

  • Raddaradda

    meh android all day. but I enjoyed your article.

  • West

    Nice try, Steve Jo…oh wait

  • Aimee Vondrak

    MY LIFE. Yessss welcome to the iPhone bandwagon! It’s so comfy! I’m just a couple weeks in myself, but this article describes precisely the exaggerated “trauma” we undergo when switching from one type of “advanced technology” to another.

    You seriously need to play Words with Friends though.

    • Colleen

      Admission: iCaved and started playing Words with Friends.

  • R

    a very nice article! i’m actually having the so-called dilemma right now! my blackberry is still functioning properly though so i’m still on the fence. maybe later when it starts white screening hard.

  • Anapie5

    this article touched me, as i too am in transition. 

    Well written, i love your style of writing!

  • PopPopTay

    lol from your GUP

blog comments powered by Disqus