It’s been a week and I haven’t ordered the new iPhone yet. That’s progress!

My name is Sara, and I’m an Apple-aholic.

Hi Sara.

Thanks. Like most of you here, it started years ago with an iPod. Just a little, 32GB iPod. Everyone else already had one. I tried to be a good girl and just use my little non-Apple mp3 player, but everyone made fun of it. So I gave in to the peer pressure and tried my first Apple product. I’d seen my dad using them, so really, how much harm could there be in trying something Apple?

And at first, I had it under control. That one iPod was enough for me for a long time. True, I started toting it everywhere with me, just in case. And yes, I used it to hide from uncomfortable social situations. Turn it on, slip those little white earbuds in, and suddenly I felt good again. Was it a crutch? Yes. But I couldn’t see that at the time because it was just one little iPod.

I should have known there was a problem when I had to have it wired into my car because I just couldn’t function without it. And when I would panic if I didn’t have it with me. But one little iPod can’t hurt you, right?

But then I got my MacBook Pro. I’d had a Dell laptop (which, admittedly, I had wanted because they came in colors. I’m a girl. Deal with it.). And that’s when the addiction really got bad. Because I never wanted to touch that old Dell again once I had my MacBook. Oh no. Everything just felt RIGHT when I used my Mac. Everything worked.  There were no more viruses to worry about.  No left button/right button confusion. And I felt superior to all those PC people who had to hit “CTRL” instead of “Command.” Losers.

And I didn’t even have an iPhone or an iPad! Clearly I wasn’t an addict. Addicts couldn’t be away from their Mac products for longer than three seconds without dying like the the guy who drank from the wrong cup in the third Indiana Jones movie. I, on the other hand, chose wisely.  I could leave my iPod in my purse for most of the day and be fine.

That’s how they suck you in though. That MacBook is a gateway drug. Because it came with a free iPod touch. Which meant that I was using Apple more than ever. I could leave my old iPod in the car and use the touch for everything else. I could even use it to get online when I had wifi and was away from my computer.  Which, yes, I could do with my Blackberry, but it was just BETTER with an Apple product.

And oh how I clung to that Blackberry! I saw how addicted my dad had become to the Apple way of life, and I know that addictions are hereditary.  I didn’t want to go that route. So I vowed never to get an iPhone! Never to get an iPad! Never to fall prey to that Apple-induced madness that possesses addicts every time a new product is announced! Oh no, not me! I didn’t have a problem! I could stop any time I wanted to.

Addicts, however, tend to surround themselves with other addicts to justify their behavior. And my parents are no different. Like the worst of smokers and drinkers, I started using my parents’ iPads when they weren’t looking. A websearch here. A Facebook update there. An email. A YouTube video. A round of Words With Friends. But they caught on. And because they don’t see their own addictions as a problem, instead of castigating me, they bought me an iPad for my birthday last year. The Apple TV quickly followed suit.

And after that, there was no turning back. I woke up at 2:45am the night that the iPhone 4S went on sale to make sure I was alert enough to order mine EXACTLY at 3am. I claimed I had a doctor’s appointment and left school early the day it was delivered–the FIRST day that anyone could have one, to rush home to set it up. Behavior that a non-addict would find simply appalling.

I couldn’t stop though. I popped apps like they were TicTacs. I spent countless hours installing things I didn’t need, had no use for, but craved because they were there and they enhanced my Apple products like nothing else could. I preferred texting other Apple users because they too acted like our behavior was normal. They got it. And with iMessage, I could see when they were replying to me. And we could send emojis. Non-Apple users didn’t understand and judged us for preferring the company of other Apple-aholics. Clearly THEY were the ones with the problems.  Not us.  Never us. And even if some of my friends were addicted, I wasn’t.  I couldn’t be an addict. 

But when they announced the new iPhone 5 and I actually debated spending $700 on one because my contract isn’t up for another year, I realized that I had a serious problem. Buying the iPhone 5 was the equivalent of going SEVEN Springsteen shows. (Okay, three with Ticketmaster fees. But still). I have bills to pay. A mortgage. A schnauzer to feed. And I was actually debating spending that much money just to get the new iPhone a few months earlier.  Not good.

Maybe there was a way though.  The day that the announcement was made, I tried to figure out if I could make the money.  But when I posted this on my Facebook (JOKINGLY):

And got THIS as a reply from someone who shall remain nameless, but whom I will from now on refer to as the Creepiest Person I Know:

I realized my addiction had gone too far.  (NO I DID NOT CONSIDER HIS OFFER.  I’m NOT that bad!  But that is a REAL, UNEDITED message that I got the night that the iPhone announcement was made.  SCARY.)

So I’m taking a stand. I’m going to try to break the cycle of addiction. I can make do with the 4S with the upgraded iOS6, which does let it do most of the same stuff as the iPhone 5.  No, it doesn’t have the slightly different body to let everyone know immediately that my phone is superior to theirs in every possible way. But I’m strong. I can manage. And, God willing, with the help of other Apple-aholics out there who are also fighting the urge to spend $700 on a slightly better phone just because it’s new and Apple makes it, I can resist the daily temptation to buy the iPhone 5. I know the craving won’t ever actually go away. But I just need to take it one day at a time.

That’s all any of us can do, right?

It’s been on sale for pre-orders for over a week now. I’ve made it a week so far.  And that’s longer than I ever thought I would be able to last. It’s been hard.  Especially because my dad ordered his right when they went on sale. And I was lying there in bed, staring at the ceiling, praying that I would have the strength to stay away from my MacBook.  Because I knew that as soon as I sat down at that screen, I wouldn’t be able to resist going to the Apple homepage and ordering that phone. But I’ve made it this far, and I keep hoping I’ll have the strength to resist even when I see other people with the new iPhone.

Damn you, Steve Jobs! I feel your icy grip clutching me from beyond the grave!

God, I want that phone.

Stolen from

The Stepford iPhones: Can anything stop them?

I know that I’m a latecomer to the Apple revolution, but I’m seriously getting into it all now.

For the longest time, I held out against getting a Mac. Everyone and their mother (although not my mother or her mother… the women in my family tend to be the least technologically savvy people on the planet. They’re also all insane. My future looks pretty bleak) kept telling me that I needed one, but I said no. I was happy with my Dell products.

I don’t say this often, but I was SO wrong.

The same with getting an iPod. I had little teeny tiny mp3 players for a while, and I didn’t understand why I would want an iPod. They were bigger and a pain in the butt. And the shuffles didn’t even have displays! I liked being able to see what song was playing, thank you very much.

Then my dad got me an iPod, and I don’t understand how I lived without it.

Now I have a Macbook Pro (which I typed all of these blog posts from), and I don’t have any idea why there are any other computer companies left. I thought I’d never get used to not having two mouse buttons and pushing “command+c” and “command+v” to copy and paste. But just a couple of weeks after getting the Mac, I now get angry at school because I push the wrong buttons on those stupid, worthless Windows machines.

As my dad says, Macs just work. And he’s right. My Mac is delightful.

And with my wonderful Mac came my first iPod touch.

Which means that it’s only a matter of time until I switch to the iPhone.

For years now, I’ve been telling everyone who will listen that I don’t want an iPhone because I like having actual keys for texting. I’m one of those ridiculous individuals who texts so much that I can do it completely without looking. Like I can hold my phone behind my back and text accurately. On a full QWERTY keyboard. That probably means there’s something wrong with me and I’ll have full-blown carpal tunnel syndrome and arthritis by my next birthday. (Even though I’ll STILL only be 25 on my next birthday. Amazing how that works. I’m not turning older than that until I have a publishing contract. So if you want me to disclose my real age, go buy more copies of my book!)

I’m not QUITE at vampire speed. But I’m close. (The video clip is kinda NSFW… but hilarious. I ❤ True Blood!)

But the problem now that I’ve played extensively with the iPod touch is that I realize that, with a little more practice, I could probably get used to texting without looking on an iPhone.

My main reason against getting the iPhone isn’t the keypad though. It’s that everyone who has one becomes completely and utterly obsessed with it. Like beyond how obsessed I am with Bruce Springsteen. It’s seriously scary.

When I look at my Facebook news feed, a good third of the posts on there are from my friends talking about their iPhones. And some of these people have families and pets! But they talk about their phones MORE THAN THEY TALK ABOUT THEIR CHILDREN. And if you try to take their phone away from them for ANY reason, they turn into Gollum from Lord of the Rings and start lunging at you talking about “my precious.”

My dad is a perfect example of this. He got his iPhone kind of late compared to a lot of people. He kept his Motorolla Razr WAY longer than anyone else I knew, and, despite usually being the first person to bring new technology home, kept claiming he didn’t need a smart phone.

Then he brought home his first iPhone, and I swear there was more fanfare for that than when he brought ME, his first-born child, home from the hospital.

Literally. (Although, as he pointed out, the reason for that was that I didn’t come with any cool apps.)  He was emailing me pictures of his phone for weeks. And when he upgraded to the iPhone 4, I’m pretty sure that became his favorite child.

He cradles it in his arms, and I’ve caught him talking baby talk to it a few times. At least his background picture is of Rosie, my puppy, and not of the iPhone itself. But I don’t think he has a single picture of me or my brother on there. Just the phone itself and my dog. There’s something wrong with that.

Family gatherings have turned cliquey because of the iPhones. The iPhone people sit together and compare apps, and the non-iPhone people sit together and form a support group for family members of iPhone owners. I’m not even exaggerating. My dad now says that he has a mixed family: he and my brother are iPhone people, my mom and I aren’t. (The implication being that my mother and I are far inferior beings because we haven’t evolved to using iPhones yet.)

I worry sometimes that he’s planning a Stepford Wives style takeover, where one day we’re normal people who are living non-iPhone obsessed lives, and the next day we’ve been murdered and replaced with iPhone-using animatronics housewives.

So while my conversion to using a Mac may hasten my switch to using an iPhone, if you get the idea that I’m no longer human because my phone is suddenly all that I talk about, send help! I may still be alive in a dungeon somewhere with an older, deactivated cell phone, while the fake version of me compares apps with my dad and brother.

But worst case scenario, I bet Stepford robots can text without looking, even on an iPhone.