web counter The Madness of MokcikNab: Skype Juice
The Madness of MokcikNab
Motives, movements and melodrama in the life of a thirty something mum.

Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Skype Juice

Here's a tip : if you want to keep your job or keep up any semblance of time management, never ever install Skype or any form of IM to communicate with your husband or boyfriend. Because it'll turn into such an annoyingly addictive thing. Because I swear, in offices across the country, perhaps the entire globe, the sand of time ticks away and gets sucked into this black hole called instant messaging.

How did a seemingly innocuous, and potentially useful application be so eeeevil? Did the programmers at AOL, who created this IM monster, go to the same bomoh as Led Zeppelin? (The reference will be lost on you young people. Let's just say, rumour was Robert Plant made a Faustian deal with Satan, macam cerita The Collector tu)

People, I have to confess. This is the real reason why I've neglected my blog -- I'm now a text junkie. While I'm trying to string sentences for this post, I am also Skyping my husband, Googling for images of "athletics" for a proposal, and of course, doing the proposal itself, apart from discussing the dream of cheap, mobile internet technology with a colleague. I think I'm multitasking, but the damn beeps of the Evil Skype Machine demands, and gets, my attention.

The sad thing is, even though I'm surgically stitched to IM, most of the time I use it to talk to only one person : Saiffuddin. My husband is just in Changkat Raja Chulan, a twenty five minute train ride away. And it's not as if we don't get to talk. We call each other, have long chats over coffee at home and in Starbucks and in kopitiams and in mamak shops, we run through ideas during walks, and we discuss things in the dark as we lay in bed, post-coital or not. I should be sick of gabbing with my husband already. But somehow, conversations over Skype takes on a different tone, as if you're brand new personalities. It's like you don't know the person on the other end, but he's exactly what you want.

Just now, Saiffuddin wrote : "Save me from this evil that I have just began to enjoy so much". I asked him to explain, but he said never mind. I assume he was talking about texting me on Skype. But then, come to think of it, it could be something else, because in the previous messages the topic was fellatio.

Our conversations over IM can start innocently like "What time are you going home?" or "Have you had lunch?" or just stupid "Harloooo!"; or it can be really, really serious like financing options for his projects, or plans for that dreamy, cheap, mobile internet technology. But somewhere along the way, it would always degenerate into a flirt fest (hence fellatio), with each of us trying our darnedest to outdo each other in teasing. It's seduction, with safety nets. (You want to fall, anyway)

As I write this, I also Skyped him this : "What is the thing that makes this texting over Skype so compelling? I need your answer for my blog, which I'm writing now"

"It's fun", came his prompt answer, "You smile as you type away and anticipate the reply". Saiffuddin would never say this in person. Suddenly, it gives me a clearer idea of the nature of my addiction.


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