Phones are the devil.

I remember my first phone call.

Her name was Whitney, and she was in my Kindergarten class with me. My only experience with phones up until then was when my parents made me talk to my grandparents on the phone. I hated talking on the phone, not because I disliked talking to my grandparents, but I found phones very stressful to use. Sometimes my grandparents couldn't understand me. And sometimes I couldn't understand them. And sometimes you both run out of things to say! Why do parents put their kids through the stress of phone calls before they have enough common sense to just say goodbye and hang up?!

At 5-years old I already hated talking on the phone, and had no desire to expand my social network beyond my grandparents. Unfortunately, that all changed one evening.

'Ta~ren, you have a phone call~.' My mother interrupted my Lego-building in her sing-song voice. She entered the room grinning proudly.

Bewildered, I could only manage a 'W-What?!' before she forced the phone into my hand. Immediately there was a pit in my stomach, as I realized that I now had to say hello, without even knowing who was at the other end of this blasted invention.

I shifted the phone into my slightly less sweaty left hand, and took a deep breath.

"He-"
"Hello?" I nearly jump out of my skin at the voice from the other end. It seems to be a girl, though I have no idea who.
"Hello?" I responded, just to confirm I was there.
"Hi." said the voice. This does not help me. Who is this?!
"Hi." I say, my heart rate increasing.
"How are you?" says the little voice. Is this a joke?! Why won't she say who she is?!
"Fine." I say, and then not being able to take it anymore, "Who is this?"
"Whitney," says the little girl. That's weird, I think to myself. I didn't know we were friends.
"Oh. Why did you call me?" I was awkward and blunt, even as a child.
"I just wanted to talk to you." What the heck. My heart melts at this now, but at the time I just thought she was crazy.
"Why?"
"I just wanted to talk to you."
...
...
"Oh," I finally manage.
...
...
"What are you doing?" Relieved that she finally broke the silence, I let go the breath I was holding.
"Nothing." Looking back, talking about my Legos might have been a better way to go.
"Why did you call me?" I ask again. I hope my eloquence has improved since I was 5.
"I just wanted to talk to you. Bye!"
"Bye!" I say, relieved that it was over.

I didn't really become friends with that girl, and I was glad she never put me through that again.

People have expressed jealousy over my ability to recall events long past, without realizing that my memory is completely involuntary. I don't remember where my mother said she was going when she left this morning, but I can recall every stressful experience with a phone I've ever had.

I don't know whether or not poor Whitney was to blame, but as I gathered more memories of phone conversations throughout my life, my hatred for them has only increased.

I hate how when talking on a phone you always feel the need to talk slightly louder than normal so that the other person can understand you.

I hate because of the time delay, you sometimes both end up talking at the same time. And then you stop, and but they don't know it yet because of the time delay, so they stop too, and then you start talking, but then they start again too...AHHH.

I hate when you call someone and one of their family members answers and then they ask who you are.

I hate when you don't understand them and have to ask them to repeat themselves.

Caller ID doesn't help, either, because sometimes someone else uses that phone to call you, and then it's confusing.

And then, when the phone number is unlisted, you take a huge risk answering.

It could be a salesperson and I have to rudely hang up on them and feel guilty the rest of the day.

Or worse, what if it's a wrong number, and I have to tell them that it's a wrong number? What if they don't believe me and call again?

Or even worse, what if they have an accent I can't understand AND it's the wrong number?

I get sick just thinking about it.


How does this relate to Korea or the Visa Process?

I had to make a lot of phone calls, most of which resulted in me hearing things I did not want to hear.

As a result, my hatred of phones is as strong as ever.

I have therefore made a decision to NOT purchase a landline or an international calling card while in Korea.

If any of you want to talk to me, there is e-mail, Facebook, Google+, Skype and of course, Blogger.

So you two people a year who actually call me will have to DEAL WITH IT!




Korea update soon.