The Blues

iBed

On May 11, 2011, in Family, iPartner, Life, by Rosie

The marital/long-term relash bed can be fraught with many, many things, can’t it?

Family and work-related issues, mental health and physical problems. Daytime memories about finances, domestic duties, or responsibilities finding their way beneath the sheets and tossing bed partners into sleeplessness. Headaches, backaches, wallet aches. And what of doona-snatching, snoring, night sweats, cold turkeys (eww, at Christmas time) and moody hormonal lapses?

Yes, the relationship bed can closet many, many things.

Until this week, Fangirl Sings the Blues’ marital bed has never involved whispered consternation over technology. We have been living in a ‘technology-free bubble’, preferring to share our toys, cross-reference our hard drives and WiFi our worries.

But now! Into the home and across the hearth has stolen a sexy, provocative, evocative, super slim and fast feline of a thing, and we cannot come at SHARING. To be honest, I’d share if I could only spend some time in the technological sandpit, stroking the latest beautiful iThing to come outta Apple.

The iThing has Mac, Pip and Pop at its hotness-factor-of-ten mercy. If they could morph into its sensual, lusty case and be ONE with the iBeauty, they would. I anticipate the moment I enter the home and find them app-ed into the iCalendar or USB-ed into the Photo Booth.

I never get a go. If the previous sentence read as a ‘wail’, then the purpose of this post has been established. This girl is one Angry Bird (s). If Family Separation Papers could be served on the iThing, I’d be tempted to Cut the Rope.

In short, I feel like a fugly, obsolete PC-IBM, crumbs-on-the-keyboard adjunct to their lifestyles. Ma Jones with a Pa Kettle belly, rather than Ms Rosie Jones, iLife and iBed compatible.

Which brings me to the evening just iGone. The relationship bed beckoned, the city temperature dipping with the speed of 40+-year old cleavage (where there used to be ripe, pert breasts) and the doona looked cosy. Mac was focused on the newer model of the house, and why wouldn’t he be? If I had a chance, I would be too, ffs.

He beckoned me over to his chair — oh really? There’s room for ME to have a look at the iThing now that Pip and Pop are in bed? — and showed me the screen for a particularly hard part of Angry Birds.

(Mac is not a huge gamer, but he enjoys them when he has time! Oh, and when he has a new toy, it seems).

I watched him FAIL to knock out the multi-tiered level of Angry Birds. I tutted sympathetically when the iThing told him ‘LEVEL FAIL, you freaking idiot’, and immediately knew that I would beat that screen in one. (Yes. We used to be competitive, now he has realized that I am just better than him!)

I said, seductively, suggestively, ‘could I have a go. You know that I’m goooooood. At these things …’

Mac managed to drag his eyes away from the wonderful colours of Angry Birds and the pure eroticism of the iThing (remember? Slender, sleek, shiny … ohhhhh), looked into my own (PC, fugly IBM eyes) and muttered, ‘um, really? Oh … okay, I s’pose’.

He looked seriously affronted. Oh. My God.

(Those of you wot know Mac will appreciate that he’s a very generous man, both with time and his things. The iThing might not fall under this ‘previously-generous-fella’ umbrella. We may have, in fact, created a spoilt brat from a mature bloke. It’s like the reincarnation of Frankenstein, without the neck bolts and lightening round his skull — although this may happen, before too long.)

I got ONE turn, and even that was a begrudging ‘here you go, but don’t think that you can lift the iThing away from my clutches or move where I can’t see you’ exchange.

*sighs*

He tells me that the novelty will wear off with Pip and Pop. I do remember that the iThing was a present for his birthday, even though I procured it under the guise of ‘something for the family’ — ie: me — thinking that he wouldn’t have the time to devote to home technology when work stuff is always in his face.

Well, an old iDog (iWife) can be learn new tricks. Even though I mightn’t be the sharpest, sexiest piece of techno on the street, I still have an app that the iThing doesn’t — but I’m sure Apple will come up with something to WiFi into the Computerized Tablet of Desire over the next few years, and you’ll be able to tuck the iThing into your bed to keep you warm at night.

Now? I just want my own and have learned that I don’t do technological sharing. Very well, at all.