If you see a Blackberry flying past you.... an angry me may be nearby....

Blackberry battery death. My world has fallen apart two days running now. When I recount the event, it seems so insignificant and spoilt of me that I am almost ashamed. Though, I guess not so ashamed that I prevented myself from sharing it on the interweb.

My beloved Blackberry's battery decided to die yesterday half way through work, it had not been an extraordinary day in anyway, I had not taken or made lots of calls from it. I guessed that perhaps I had forgot to turn the charger on at the wall when I plugged it in on Sunday night, or that somehow I (or someone else) had left the wifi or bluetooth switched on. None of these things turned out to be the case.

As luck would have it, I had taken my netbook to work with me, so that I could make some progress with Laptop, this meant that I was able to hide myself away at the back of the bus on the way home, and get some charge into my phone from my netbook. This was just as infuriating, as not having the phone at all, as I began to be deluged with messages, voicemails and emails from people wondering why I wasn't responding to them. Why is it that people don't understand the definition of 'urgent call' when you advise them that you have next to no power yet ?

The evening was only completed by me having left work late, rushing to get home (as much as you can rush when you are dependant on whatever time the bus driver thinks is acceptable to get you anywhere), trying desperately to sort out the phone issues and ending up leaving the water running in the kitchen sink causing a small flood. What is it they say about more haste, less speed. Well it certainly was true last night. The more I rushed, the more annoyed I was getting. I realised that not only was I completely unprepared to go anywhere, but that with further public transport connections required I wasn't going to get there until about 8:30.

This on top of a succession of those text messages being from people telling me that they wouldn't be able to make it to drama. I could have screamed. I think I should have. Maybe it would have helped. In the end, poor Helen ended up trying to make a session of interest for the 5 people that did turn up, without me. I felt awful, and just wanted to go to bed so that the day would end sooner.

Today's battery death was entirely unexpected, having a decent set of charge bars at lunch time (4pm today due to a later shift), I was surprised (I am being generous, my feelings were better described as something else but I won't use those words here) to see that again the battery status was in red and the pretty much as I left the building, it decided that there was not enough battery left to do anything of any value, turned off the mobile connection, and then 5 minutes later shut down completely. It took all my strength not to hurl the bloody thing across the car park.

Ok. So now I am amazed and appalled by this pathetic overreaction to the loss of the ability to communicate with people so lazily as my mobile phone allows. In my typical 'there's no middle ground' style (it's just one extreme or the other folks) where I was only recently considering changing to an iPhone 4 when my contract comes up for renewal, I am now considering NOT getting a new phone or contract at all.

Yeah right. Anyone want to take any bets on how long THAT idea will last ?

Benjamin Cook, what was it that you did ?

I am confused.

One of the people that I follow on Twitter is Benjamin Cook, the writer and journalist. I first heard of him when I was reading 'The Writer's Tale', which he co-wrote with Russel T Davies. That was such an impossible book to put down, and so fascinating to someone like me who is both a life long Dr Who fan, and interested in anything that covers the differing processes people go through when they write. Especially when they are fortunate enough to do so for a living.

The 'Twitterverse' is abuzz tonight with a mixture of both condemnation, shock, insult and support (but mostly the shock, condemnation and insult). Apparently a tweet that Mr Cook had posted has caused such controversy and reaction. Such venomous bile being spouted.

Despite trying to look, I have not been able to ascertain what it is that has been said to prompt such a reaction. In his own later posts he says that it was something bad, that he regretted doing it.

Without knowing what it was that was said it is hard, or at least it should be, to form an opinion one way or the other. Others, it would seem, do not have such reservations. It is hard to imagine what words could possibly justify such hatred. Reading some of them back, with comments such as 'you should get the fuck off twitter now. I don't want to read what you say...'. Surely, just as if you do not like the programmes on a Television or Radio, you are more than free to change the channel, or turn it off, on Twitter you can easily block or just 'unfollow' a person. This way you would not get to see their posts and get so offended by them.

Is it really possible to react in such a way to mere words ? Words are powerful, to be sure, but they are just a combination of letters. They only have relevance or energy when attached to the meaning given them by the reader. This means that the same words will have different strength and impart depending on the experiences and opinions of the reader.

We all have said or done things that we regret, wish we could change, undo. The sad reality is that we cannot. There is no choice but to go on, and find a way to learn to live with the memory, the guilt, the pain and the lesson that the mistake has given you.

Who would you rather trust, someone who has lived a pure and blameless life, or a hypocrite, a person who has made this mistakes themselves ? Give me a hypocrite every time.