Saturday, February 28, 2009

Time to Say Good-Bye...

Yes, please sing with me, as I mourn the inevitable parting with my old cellphone.

I got it for free in 2000 as part of a free women-getting-back-into-the-job-market course. Even then it was pre-loved, so I don't know how old it really is. But it has served me well, and for someone who only wants to call/receive calls and store telephone numbers, it was perfect. Even though it took me a few years before I learned how to receive a call.

About four years ago, I was having a wonderful Friday after-work drinkie with my friend Marj at Harry's Bar. I had the phone out because it's also as my watch. Harry's has stools for the extremely-hyper-leggy, and the two of us just about fell off when this thing made a funny noise. "Blush" doesn't cover 1% of it.

It's been dieing a slow death; the charger connection has been iffy at best and finally this week I had to coax it to connect and ever so slowly put it down so it would recharge. I liked the buttons being separate, but every time the battery died the date/time were lost.

The new Nokia was NZ$79, (A$61.34/US$39.30/£27.54/€30.87/JPY3815.49,) the cheapest in the shop. Ben had scouted around town for me earlier. It's in my favorite color, gray. It does a few more things than I asked for, but I don't need to know.

Claudia, how has an older version, said sometime hers forgets what it's supposed to remember. So I shall write down all the numbers stored for starters. I don't think I get attached to "things" much, but I get a little sentimental thinking about the time the old one stuck with me; it was after I left my last real job, and saw me through my transition to becoming a weaver, and I must have made some crucial calls on this little baby. Belatedly, I christen the old one Harry Senior, and the new one, Harry Junior.

Rest in pieces.


  1. Gulp!

    When your headline popped up, I thought....NOOOOOO, Meg can't be taking some kind of blog break can she???? Or worse?

    Glad we're just saying bye to your phone!


  2. Nah, Sue, Unravelling is my lifeline, though I've been contemplating quitting my Not a Woman blog for about two years, as my life and weaving converge more and more.

    But not JUST a phone. I realize now that the soft rubbery keypads have been my crutch while I made changes to my life.

  3. holy hell, I'm glad it's not you leaving, even if you don't understand me ;-).

  4. Nah, it's my phone... I understand you most times - just now over THERE!!

  5. I feel with you!!! My mobile phones have so far been 'downcasts' from a certain JB. They were either not loaded or not with me when I needed them - which happened once in a lifetime. Certain other people didn't think so one bit.
    Today I needed to get a new one - the old one had given up its ghost (certainly not from overuse!!!!!), and the one I chose has out of stock. So, what does that tell me?

  6. Hee hee, Ali. I would have thought JB is the kind of guy that buys you new spiffy toys just because he wants to play with it.

    All my computers and parts have been pre-loved by Ben, but as long as they work I don't mind. It's when he "improves" my setup without telling me that really gets to me.

    Truth to tell, Ben was VERY tempted to give me his and upgrade for himself, but his does so many things I don't want and the buttons SEEM tiny so I rejected the offer. Besides, who knows how much he would have spent on his new one. He did get a new computer, though, just last week; still awaiting shipment. But I'm keeping this laptop - was his in 2003 or so...


  7. You mean you have BIG FINGERS?
    Well, I never....

  8. Noooooo, short, fat fingers. I've a very uniform style.

  9. Are they myopic, too? And talk with a funny accent?

  10. my⋅op⋅ic   /maɪˈɒpɪk, -ˈoʊpɪk/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [mahy-op-ik, -oh-pik] Show IPA
    1. ophthalmology. pertaining to or having myopia; nearsighted.
    2. unable or unwilling to act prudently; shortsighted.
    3. lacking tolerance or understanding; narrow-minded.

    You're going to keep harping on about these in March, aren't you, JB. Go away and do something productive, mate. Paint the garage, or bother Ali. My fat fingers keep hitting two keys at once.


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