Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery






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Friday, March 24, 2006


Mea Robert Culpa

I've got something hanging over my brain pan here and I just want to get it out there. I realize that this will affect almost nobody who reads this, but it's one of those things that you just kind of need to put out into the world regardless of if it will do any good or not. Sort of like writing a letter to your senator calling them a huge pussy for not backing Russ Feingold's censure move. Which I did.

Anyway, I think I mentioned some time ago that my phone vibrated itself into the kitchen sink one evening while I left it charging. I didn't actually realize this until the next morning, and by then some water had pooled around it after running off of a couple of plates from which I'd been rinsing the maple syrup after our Saturday morning pancakes. Consequently, my phone was fucked up. Is. It is fucked up.

Specifically, the screen works--I guess the best term is--intermittently. It's gotten a little better in the month or so since this happened, and I'm optimistic of a full screen recovery. All this means, really, is that I can't always tell immediately who I'm talking to when I answer the phone and that I have to sometimes punch random buttons for a minute or so before the screen kicks on and I can look at a text message.

Another unfortunate symptom of the phone-wetting is that my battery has turned into something of a piece of shit. It holds a charge like Tara Reid holds her liquor. I have to leave it plugged in practically all the time and it's then drained by a ten minute conversation.

As a result of this, I'm frequently telling people, "Hey, my battery is low and I'm probably going to cut out on you soon, but keep talking." This happened to me this evening as I was chatting with a good friend of mine. And I realized, "Say... This probably sounds like bullshit. This probably sounds like I'm trying to get out of a conversation because Two and-a-half Men is on and I want to go watch." I've had this happen often recently when I've been talking to my parents, too. They're probably changing the will as I write this.

So I just felt like I had to clarify this to anyone who may have been on the receiving end of my conversation-ending info-blip: I really do have a fucked-up phone battery. I'd be more than happy to talk at length with you if I hadn't have been so fucking moronic as to leave my phone on vibrate right next to the sink when I knew I was going to be rinsing maple syrup off of plates the following morning. Please don't hate me.