txt: gr8?

i have an unlimited text package.
for any of you that don't, tell me why. i have theories.
my friend karen graci (the best) hates text with a passion. "text me ever, anyone, and i will hate you," she said. "just call me." and the other day after years of her sticking by her policy, i got a text from her. she had given in. one of the final, i think, to fall.

here's what i'm saying: i don't afford myself an insane amount of luxuries, but my god. text is a blast. i can text when i'm backstage. i can text when it's late. i can text during boring meetings. or workshops. or conferences. and best yet, text feels like 7th grade - it's like passing a friend in the hallway after algebra and getting handed a perfectly shaped paper football (or one of those rectangular kind with the pull-tabs... remember those?) just crammed full of bits. filled with info and fun and a providing a break from your regular day.

the bad part? yep, it's like 7th grade. i was introduced to text in 2003 by a friend who insisted on texting almost everything. seemed fun, so i buckled and got into it, and then realized he used text for... well, almost everything. where he was, that he liked me, that he loved me, that he was cheating on me. really? uh-oh. txt is hrd! u r a dck!

so, the verdict for me, even despite the worst? texting is about as fun as it gets. do not tell me anything of importance over it, or i won't trust you. unless it's really late. or you're bored. i miss you. forget what i said. text me now.