June 18th, Mason knocked my phone right out of my hand into the kiddie pool. I feel like I was quick to get it out, but there were very clear and distinct moments of time that are written on my mind's eye with a horrifyingly indellible ink... made of BLOOD.
I can remember pausing with my thumb on the "trigger" about to take a picture of Shelby in the pool. I remember clearly, feeling the slap of Mason's satanic little hand on mine. I remember realizing the phone was no longer between my fingers but flying, and I remember seeing it, submerged in 6'' of water, the screen, still shining bright in the clear pool, showing what might possibly be its last picture ever.
I snapped out of my shock, fractions of a second after this whole series of event was set into motion. I scooped up my phone and went into crisis mode. I did everything I'd read about. I took out the battery, the SIM card, the memory card. I set it in the sun. Later I put into a bowl of rice. Then I put it into a bowl of rice in the sun. I knew that water wasn't enough to kill my phone but a subsequent water induced short of the electrical system would take my poor phone over the edge, never to be enjoyed again. I was seriously bummed. I love this phone.
We watched Alice in Wonderland that night, the weird one with unhot Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter as a punkin head. Bleh. We watched Youth in Revolt with the unhot punkin head Michael Cera. I actually enjoyed that one.
The next day, the phone seemed dry, except for under the screen which had a substantial bead of water slowly sloshing around like a depressing, stress inducing lava lamp. Suck. After more than 24 hours of waiting and waiting I decided to try and remove the screen cover and absorb the water with a paper towel.
I pried it off with a utility knife quite easily. It was just glued on. I soaked up the 1 or 2 drops of water and let it sit in the rice again for a couple hours. When I just couldn't wait any longer, I pressed the screen cover back on, replaced the cards and battery and crossed my fingers. Power?
ON!
Hot Damn. My phone worked. I bee lined for the photos and saw the terrifying last picture.
What you see to the left is grass and kiddie pool in motion. I looked, amazed at the photo. My emotions flipping from wonder, to relief, to anger, and back to wonder, then anger... ANGER... ANGER!!!!
Then relief.
Ok, so my phone was not broken. I scratched the inside of the screen cover with the utility knife and there seemed to be a little bit of distortion in the pictures that actually created a sort of cool 3D effect. 'War wounds,' I thought, 'Proof that this phone visited the edge of a watery hell and lived to tell the tale.' I can handle that.
But then, over the next two weeks my phone started to gimp. I'd lose my ear piece and have to listen to my phone calls on speaker. I rationalized it. I make phone calls almost never... I can deal with this. It became sluggish, entire menus disappeared. First, I couldn't access my photos, then my music. Eventually my contacts disappeared. I remedied these 'hiccups' by rebooting my phone. Once a day, three times... five... powering down and up became my habit. I can do this... I will do this! I love you Sony Ericsson Z750a. And then. Sadly, Wednesday last, my phone just wouldn't power back up. I tried it plugged in, unplugging, pressing buttons, not pressing them. Plugged in, then unplugged and pressing buttons all at once. The furthest I got was the AT&T icon and a piteous shudder of the vibrate feature, letting me know it could see my lips move, but could not hear what I was saying...
After 2 days of this I started shopping. I wanted another Sony Ericsson. The two I've owned before I loved. I believe in brand loyalty, so I marched my butt into the AT&T store and said show me ALL your Sony Ericssons!
Michael Meyers, (his real name) Didn't bother to suppress his laugh. 'We don't sell those anymore.' He must have sensed my immediate sadness. He took on the demeanor of a funeral director. 'I'm very sorry. But as a brand, well...' he tried to choose his words gingerly, 'They're antiquated. Outdated. Out of style. No one's buying them, they aren't keeping up with the current trends. We're phasing them out. You can't buy one.' He did not succeed. I asked for some suggestions. Samsung Sunburst, Mythic, Solstice. Not 3G, Crappy Camera, Qwerty Keyboard. YUCK YUCK YUCK.
On AT&T's website, they have what I consider to be my only choice. A Sony Ericsson W518. Its 3G, a 3.1 mp camera, does everything my old phone does and more. I ordered it Friday morning after confirming that no store any where has them for sale because apparently everyone hates them. Everyone except me. I always was 'different.' It should get here Tuesday or Wednesday.
In the mean time, I decided not to get a temporary phone. I'll be with Brian or at home most of this holiday weekend. It's a lot of trouble to buy and then return some stupid crappy phone from stupid crappy Walmart. Like I said, I don't make many phone calls any way. I miss my friends like crazy though. I MISS YOU, FRIENDS. I miss waking up to find drunken texts. I miss invitations to the movies, I miss your triumphs and tragedies. I miss sending you photos of things that remind me of you. I miss my nightly imming with my cousin and his anxiety stirring conversations about Obama and the marriage tax.
I miss sending pictures to facebook. I miss getting my horoscope every morning at 8am on the dot. I miss recording song ideas, novel ideas, movie ideas, character profiles. I miss browsing my photos and videos, hearing my alarms, sleeping with my phone under the pillow like a cuddly plastic and lithium security blanket.
Dear Sony Ericsson, Z750a I will miss you. You were revered, adored, appreciated. Thanks for your usefullnes and your novelty. I loved you, phone.
This new one... better be as awesome as the last. Or I just might give it to Mason to play with in the pool. Nah. I cant go through this again.
