Monday, January 16, 2006 (repost)

I am convinced that my cell phone is plotting to leave me.

The signs are all there. I fear that my cell phone doesn't love me anymore and is going to leave me.

I have caught it trying to give me the slip at least three times in the past month. Apparently it believes the best chance for a clean getaway is to jump off of my belt just as I am getting out of my car. Then, if it keeps real quiet... I may not notice, and simply drive away. Slipping between the cushions at the movie theater is a close second.

It's true that my phone and I don't always see eye-to-eye. And it did try to leave my once last winter (one year ago) in Russian Jack park while geocaching in the snow. Although in hindsight, that may have been a suicide attempt on it's part. I found it after several hours, buried to it's antenna in a snow bank. All but dead. Incrusted in ice crystals...

I know it probably harbors some ill feelings toward me. And I know that I have said some things to it that, after having cooled off, may have been out of line. But I still think it's a cheap superficial plastic piece of SHIT that!.... no... no, I will not go down that path again. Deep breath. [whew]...

I may be partially to blame, those sexy Moto razor phones. Mmmm. Razor phone