About a year ago (or even more probably) I lost my mobile phone. Gone. Lost in the seat of a taxi. On the plus side was the fact that I had been to the cinema and it was still turned off, so nobody racked up thousands by calling their brother in Albania or their aunt on Lesbos, thankfully.
I used to use it and quite liked it when I had it. (Not least for the snerk value of it being a Siemens, because juvenile is how I roll y'all.) I've never been a mobile phone maven though. Once I didn't have it, well I just did without. I know some of my friends think this must be some sort of posturing, about taking joy in being a Luddite. It really isn't.
Or wasn't because now I have a mobile phone!
I met up with friends for drinkies last night, as per a regular Wednesday, and Graeme presented me with a carry bag with a brand new mobile phone in it. He had been cruising around a Telstra store and seen a stack of phones going out really cheap on sale, so bought me one, set it all up for me and put $10 worth of prepaid calls on it as a starter.
Sweet huh? Isn't that just thoughtful and kind and I'm so happy about it. Oh, and it makes me happy that it's a win/win situation. You see it also helps Graeme's mental health by no longer sending him into paroxysms of frustration that I don't have a mobile. Ha!
It's cute and compact and precious and flips like Cap'n Kirk's communicator and it's mine, mine, all mine. Oh, and it's silver and Lady Penelope pink.
I'm down with that. It takes a Real Man to use a pink phone.
[Updated: It's only tiny, but here's a pic I found on online. Cute, non?]