My cell phone survived! I can't believe it, but it's true. Is it wrong that I didn't want to tell anyone that it was ok because I liked being unreachable?
Looks like I'll never have an enV2. On the plus side, I totally wiped out on my bike the other day and broke my pedal, so I at least have to (definitely) buy one of those, if not a pair of cycling shoes.
Showing posts with label cell phone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cell phone. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Thursday, January 8, 2009
RIP My Cell Phone
This* morning, as I was packing my work clothes up, I noticed that my chosen shirt was a little wrinkly. "Well," I said to myself, "Self, now would be the perfect time to bust out that new steamer that Wes's parents gave me for Christmas."**
So I pulled out the steamer, filled it with water, entertained thoughts of plugging it in in the kitchen, but instead went over to my usual ironing spot on the kitchen table and plugged it in there. While I waited for it to heat up, I went and started drying my hair. I came back a few minutes later to see my little kettle-like steamer spitting out a long, vigorous trail of steam. So I picked it up and steamed my shirt to good effect and put the thing down back on the table and turned it off. Then I went back to drying my hair.
When I came back to the kitchen to get ready to leave, I heard this weird, crackling sound, which sounded like static or like my cell phone slowly drowning itself and all its circuits. I had put the steamer down next to my phone, and while I realized the thing was putting out steam, I had no idea just how wet that steam was. Pretty much everything that was on my table was soaked, including my bike-riding winter hat, the fiction issue of the New Yorker, and the Pottery Barn Kids catalog. Now I'll never know what furniture is in season for privileged 4-year-olds!
Anyway, I cursed and grabbed the phone and ran into the bedroom where I tried to dry the still-crackling phone on the still-sleeping Wes. "I steamed my phone!" I yelled. "What?" he said. "I steamed my phone! Shit! I can't get the battery out!"
I rubbed the thing against the blanket a few more times before I could get the battery door off, but I'm pretty sure the damage is done. I actually dropped that phone in the toilet once and managed to save it, but it definitely wasn't making that frying noise that time.
So, Verizon got me. I'll re-up for another two years. At least the LG enV2 is on sale. But the real tragedy is that I just learned how to use predictive text, which I think is the most fun ever. Will anyone judge me if I still use that, despite the fact that my new phone will have a full Qwerty keyboard? Let's just say no.
Also, as I was trying to put away the steamer, I managed to spill some more water, but this time it landed on my umbrella. Liz 1, Steamer 1. But then it pinched my finger. Liz 1, Steamer 2. Those things are no joke.
*I worked really hard not to make this word "so".
**Remind me to write another blog about how at Christmas everyone seems to think I'm a housewife/someone who would use a steamer/quesadilla maker/stand mixer.
So I pulled out the steamer, filled it with water, entertained thoughts of plugging it in in the kitchen, but instead went over to my usual ironing spot on the kitchen table and plugged it in there. While I waited for it to heat up, I went and started drying my hair. I came back a few minutes later to see my little kettle-like steamer spitting out a long, vigorous trail of steam. So I picked it up and steamed my shirt to good effect and put the thing down back on the table and turned it off. Then I went back to drying my hair.
When I came back to the kitchen to get ready to leave, I heard this weird, crackling sound, which sounded like static or like my cell phone slowly drowning itself and all its circuits. I had put the steamer down next to my phone, and while I realized the thing was putting out steam, I had no idea just how wet that steam was. Pretty much everything that was on my table was soaked, including my bike-riding winter hat, the fiction issue of the New Yorker, and the Pottery Barn Kids catalog. Now I'll never know what furniture is in season for privileged 4-year-olds!
Anyway, I cursed and grabbed the phone and ran into the bedroom where I tried to dry the still-crackling phone on the still-sleeping Wes. "I steamed my phone!" I yelled. "What?" he said. "I steamed my phone! Shit! I can't get the battery out!"
I rubbed the thing against the blanket a few more times before I could get the battery door off, but I'm pretty sure the damage is done. I actually dropped that phone in the toilet once and managed to save it, but it definitely wasn't making that frying noise that time.
So, Verizon got me. I'll re-up for another two years. At least the LG enV2 is on sale. But the real tragedy is that I just learned how to use predictive text, which I think is the most fun ever. Will anyone judge me if I still use that, despite the fact that my new phone will have a full Qwerty keyboard? Let's just say no.
Also, as I was trying to put away the steamer, I managed to spill some more water, but this time it landed on my umbrella. Liz 1, Steamer 1. But then it pinched my finger. Liz 1, Steamer 2. Those things are no joke.
*I worked really hard not to make this word "so".
**Remind me to write another blog about how at Christmas everyone seems to think I'm a housewife/someone who would use a steamer/quesadilla maker/stand mixer.
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