Beloved Samsung, May It Text In Peace

Switch-on: September 2005
Switch-off : December 19, 2008

My cell phone died this morning. I’m comforted in knowing there was no struggle or pain. I'm sure it went peacefully.

I keep remembering our last moments together...the last time I dialed out, the last text I sent, the last time I checked movie showtimes... It really gets me in the gut, but I’m glad we had such a good life together.

That old Samsung was good to me. I flipped it up and I flipped it sideways. I dropped it on the floor. I dropped it in the sink. It got nicked and scraped countless of times, but that old phone was faithful.

I get choked up when I look back. When I think about how I could have spent more time on it, just taken better care of it.

Everybody says that I will move on, that I will find another. They may be right, but for now, the loss is just too fresh. Really, it’s almost more than I can bear.

When it’s meant to be, the right phone will come along. I know it will. But for now, if you need to reach me… try smoke signals, messenger pigeons or the Pony Express…if those don’t work, just call me at home.

Ahh…books

I’ve been scrounging around for some great new reading, without much luck. Since devouring the absolutely fantastic Twilight series just in time to see the not-so absolutely fantastic movie, the pickings have been mighty slim. In this book drought, I think I’ll just dust off a couple of my girlhood favorites—revisit the places where the love affair first began.

Anne of Green Gables
by L.M. Montgomery. I first caught this as a movie on PBS. I drove my family to such madness by hogging our only TV whenever it was on, that finally my daddy went out and found the books for me. I can't say what it is about a little redheaded orphan from PEI that touched me so. But we’re kindred spirits, she and I, and I have the collected works to prove it.

Constance: A Story of Early Plymouth
by Patricia Clapp. When I was a fifth grader at J.E. Harper Elementary School, my teacher used to choose books for the class (talk about book censorship). We’d dutifully line up and pick a teacher-approved reading off this rickety library cart. Once, ALL of the Judy Blume books were gone by the time it was my turn; somebody else got to read about Margaret’s search for God inside her training bra. I got stuck with a tale about a girl living in early Plymouth…and it’s one of the best stories I ever read.

Jane-Emily
by Patricia Clapp. This book scared the holy sh*t out of me. A girl moves into a house where another little girl dies and foolishness goes on—straight haunting style. I don’t know if I’d recommend this one for young readers, but man, oh man, was it good.

Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret
and just about anything else by Judy Blume. There wasn’t much in the way of African-American literature for a little black girl bookworm in 1980s elementary school. But Margaret and Deenie and all the others helped me make it through. If I ever have a daughter, Ms. Judy will certainly take a place of high honor on her bookshelves.

Honorable mentions go to:
Sassy, brave Ramona
Nosy Nancy Drew
The Sweet Valley High twins
Jo and Beth and Meg and Amy…and dear, dear Laurie

The Return

Gloria is back. Her return was heralded at 7 a.m. this morning with a vat of perm and some rollers.

It felt like slipping into an old familiar pair of shoes. The scents, the sounds and the sass of the shop felt like homecoming. In the chair, in the bowl, under the dryer...and away we go.

It had been a year since Gloria last was seen. When the stylist turned the chair around, there she was...a little shinier, a little more mature...but it was her.

We're back in business, and that's a good place to be.