My phone is dead! Oh, whatever shall I do? I might as well as strangle myself now and avoid the shame of having to spend every night interrupted by an urge to refresh my Twitter Time line with no fix.
But seriously though, my phone is dead and I am worried. This is the third phone I have ever owned. Which would seem like very few considering how crazed I am about such gadgets. I usually consider myself a tech enthusiast but I never actually go on and get the gadgets that I scream about. Not because of money, oh no. Before buying a tech toy I usually think long and hard and end up realizing that I do not actually need to contribute to the waste full consumerism trend that….. It’s about the money. I don’t have that HTC because I don’t have the money.
My phone isn’t actually dead, it just needs a new battery. I keep charging it and the battery does not fill up. I am hoping it is the battery that is dead because that is easier to replace.
The death of my phone lead me to start thinking about my previous love, the Nokia 6133, that disappeared with no trace. Up to this day that is the most perplexing thing in my life. That and the fact that flammable and inflammable mean the same thing.
I was walking down the road and one minute I had it, the next I did not. I hadn’t stopped, or sat anywhere. It just vanished in thin air. That loss really bugged me. It was very unexplainable. Dad had an answer though. When I joined campus he had this really huge suspicion that I do drugs so he insisted I must have sold the phone to feed my drug addiction. I found that really ‘cute’ and didn’t bother arguing about it. Which in retrospective I think I should have, because he still brings that shit up. But I had gotten that phone from him (as some sort of present) so I got his frustration.
Over the years (yes, it got lost 4 years ago and I am still obsessing over it) I have wracked my brain playing different scenarios trying to figure out what might have transpired. Some scenarios were ordinary: Aliens must have knocked me out, done nasty things to me and when they returned me to my original location they forgot to put back my phone. Others bordered on sheer impossibilities: Maybe I dropped it when I thought I had put in the pocket.
It is not until recently that I finally had a viable scenario. Karma took it. That bitch.
The reason I blame Karma is because I had stolen a memory card from a vendor using the old switcheroo trick. I went to a shop with a fake memory card and when the shopkeeper let me test his, I used mine to show him that his was fake and left him with the fake one as I walked away with the functioning one… for free. It was a great day (see archive for how it went down in details). Now I am starting to think that Karma came back to bite me in the arse. Despite the fact that it was a one-time thing, Karma is still all up in my face with that incidence. I miss that phone. It was strong. And easily fixed by Super glue.
When that Nokia got lost, I planned never to buy a phone again. But I barely even keep my promises to myself so that didn’t last long. 2 years down the line, after living on borrowed phones I finally bought another one. And now it goes and dies on me. But it’s okay, I will get another battery. The phone has served me well. It may not be a smart phone but it is the best Sony Ericsson Aino about [hick hick].
So what is the point of today’s post?
1. It is not nice to steal.
2. Jesus died for our sins so if you don’t commit sins , He died for nothing. Don’t be like that to Jesus, especially with His Birthday celebrations around the corner.
3. Where can I get an original Sony Ericsson battery in Nairobi?