No wonder everyone is so smitten with just her voice. She's smart and precise and I've also recently discovered I can't live without her.
Her name is Sirri.
I would never in a million years think I'd become so dependent on a piece of technology. It's only been two weeks since I purchased the iPhone 5 and already it's become nearly as important to me as chocolate chip cookies.
From keeping me from getting lost to reminders of everything I forget to do, she's pretty darn close to being perfect.
I remember when the first Mac computer was being introduced at the newspaper when I worked there. At that time, we were still putting the paper together, old school style, by a cut and paste method and we all thought management was crazy for even suggesting we do it any other way.
Change really does do us good.
I had no idea I wanted or needed a voice command on my phone until I started using it. I've spent quality time pushing the button to ask Sirri stupid questions like, "Why is the grass green, do birds sleep during the day, and what's the longest time a woman has ever had to endure a hotflash?"
It's like having an entire set of Britannica encyclopedias in my pocket. I could actually look and sound like a genius, if I let Sirri do all the talking.
I may be more impressed with the iPhone's functionality since I have directional dyslexia. I'm not sure this is a real ailment, but when I walk out of a store, nearly 100 percent of the time, I will turn in the wrong direction to find my car.
Friends and family don't even take a chance anymore if I'm driving. There's no such thing as south, north, east or west in my brain, and you can't ever assume I know to turn left or right, even if I have driven the route several times before. It's cost me a lot of time as I can easily drive miles in the wrong direction before I realize something doesn't seem quite right, and what's even worse, this can take place in my lifelong hometown.
Sirri tells me when to do a U-turn because I'm heading in the wrong direction and will repeat the directions several times in my lingo, "turn right now. You missed your turn, please do a U-turn to get back on route." I think I love her.
With just my voice I can send messages, emails and reminders of the things I think about doing while driving, but more often than not will forget by the time I get home. She will remind me at a certain time or send me a reminder when I pull in the driveway. If this isn't living the life of the Jetsons, I don't know what is.
There are apps for nearly everything you can think of, but I can't seem to find one that will stop my hand from feeding my mouth a handful of chocolate chip cookies, when my brain says I'm on a diet.
I asked Sirri if she thought I was overweight. Her answer was, "I can't say." Maybe she's not my best friend after all.