A little bit of bad luck goes a long way. Cell phones are a modern appendage. They are the gateway to the universe, the twitterverse, the blogsphere, and intergalactic entertainment time travel. And these tiny little upwards-of-expensive devices live by 2 rules. I mean, they aren't even as complicated as Gremlins. The rules are simple- Do not drop it, and do not drop it in water. As you well know I am not one to follow rules. So, I dropped it- in the toilet. And not just any toilet, a public toilet, at a wing joint. Argh, sigh, job well done, truly a stellar moment in my technological history. Take that rules!
The moment it happened without a thought I thrust my hand into the bowl to retrieve it. Popular opinion is split, those who reach in and retrieve and those who cut their losses. I am a retriever. It was a clean bowl, and that phone is my link to the outside world. It would also cost way too much to replace. And I am not due for a hardware upgrade until the 36th of Septnever. Holding that drippy white digital box, my brow forcefully furrowed, squealing "Oh my Rod, I dropped my phone in the toilet, I can't believe I dropped my phone in the toilet! What do I do? What can I do? Help!" Swaddling my wee wet white technological sponge in paper towels and caressing the now black screen. Rushing my patient upstairs, searching for an urban legend rice repair, awaiting lackadaisical first responders. The only option for providing such grainy apple care was to hit the road, trudging to far off destinations. Finally sliding my swaddled baby into a ziploc full of hope. Needless to say it was a quick end to an otherwise pleasant night. I have been worried ever since. What should I do? How long should I wait? Is an iPhone comfortable in rice because it was made in China? How many hours, days, weeks before this tiny apple would be unsaucy and ready for fun? Would our relationship ever be the same?
I fretted and fidgeted about this little device all day. BFF says perhaps it's a sign. That being unplugged from online reality, might be a good thing. Thrust back to pen and paper. Writing my blog in my mind and on the back of my hand. Like a teenage girl in the early '90s. Counting on my watch to actually tell the time. Brass tacks baby, back to basics. But I don't want to be the stupid girl who forgot her phone was in her back pocket. And even though everyone knows someone who's done this, now I'm that girl. And she sucks. If everything comes out alright and my teeny apple dumpling flickers back to miLife I am going to buy one of those $80 waterproof unbreakable protectors I've been making fun of at Future's Best. The money is worth the peace of mind. Then I can continue on not following rules, and dropping that delicate little appendage any dang place I want to. Also I pledge never to take any hardware to the loo again, maybe I'll buy a couple of Betty and Veronica comics to keep myself occupied early '90's style.
The moment it happened without a thought I thrust my hand into the bowl to retrieve it. Popular opinion is split, those who reach in and retrieve and those who cut their losses. I am a retriever. It was a clean bowl, and that phone is my link to the outside world. It would also cost way too much to replace. And I am not due for a hardware upgrade until the 36th of Septnever. Holding that drippy white digital box, my brow forcefully furrowed, squealing "Oh my Rod, I dropped my phone in the toilet, I can't believe I dropped my phone in the toilet! What do I do? What can I do? Help!" Swaddling my wee wet white technological sponge in paper towels and caressing the now black screen. Rushing my patient upstairs, searching for an urban legend rice repair, awaiting lackadaisical first responders. The only option for providing such grainy apple care was to hit the road, trudging to far off destinations. Finally sliding my swaddled baby into a ziploc full of hope. Needless to say it was a quick end to an otherwise pleasant night. I have been worried ever since. What should I do? How long should I wait? Is an iPhone comfortable in rice because it was made in China? How many hours, days, weeks before this tiny apple would be unsaucy and ready for fun? Would our relationship ever be the same?
I fretted and fidgeted about this little device all day. BFF says perhaps it's a sign. That being unplugged from online reality, might be a good thing. Thrust back to pen and paper. Writing my blog in my mind and on the back of my hand. Like a teenage girl in the early '90s. Counting on my watch to actually tell the time. Brass tacks baby, back to basics. But I don't want to be the stupid girl who forgot her phone was in her back pocket. And even though everyone knows someone who's done this, now I'm that girl. And she sucks. If everything comes out alright and my teeny apple dumpling flickers back to miLife I am going to buy one of those $80 waterproof unbreakable protectors I've been making fun of at Future's Best. The money is worth the peace of mind. Then I can continue on not following rules, and dropping that delicate little appendage any dang place I want to. Also I pledge never to take any hardware to the loo again, maybe I'll buy a couple of Betty and Veronica comics to keep myself occupied early '90's style.
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