The first time I started a blog was during my senior year of college when I was procrastinating on writing some paper or another. I’ve been blogging (very sporadically) ever since across multiple different Blogger and Word Press sites, but without any sort of consistency.
One day, when I apparently had WAY too much free time, I basically went through all of them, deleted them, and put my favorite posts into yet ANOTHER blog, which I was going through earlier to find things to use for the book.
So, I am re-posting one of my favorites, with permission from myself.
How to survive without a cell phone for ONE WEEK (originally posted Dec. 30, 2006)
Before I even got to the San Diego airport on Dec. 22, I realized I had left my cell phone at home and would have to survive a whole week without it. I hope none of you ever suffer the same ordeal, but if you do, I have come up with a little guide on how to survive, should you ever find yourself in such a horrifying position.
1) Upon arriving at destination without cell phone, get to nearest computer. Immediately post My Space bulletin (ed note: Facebook status) and/or send mass e-mail alerting all friends of predicament. Be sure to use whichever method will hit the most people, specifically the people you want to see the most.
2) When one specific person who you are hoping to see but are trying to play it cool with does not respond to bulletin and/or e-mail, send My Space message (ed note: Facebook message) with any and all numbers where they can reach you.
3) Spend holiday/quality time with family and hope person calls/My Spaces/E-mails (ed note: Facebooks) you.
4) Go out with mutual acquaintance in hope of running in to aforementioned person. Get extremely drunk to dull the pain of getting blown off (again again again).
5) Spend entire next day hungover, miserable, traveling to Boston/Providence with your mom’s cell phone that you have taken for the week, receiving few to no phone calls, nothing from aforementioned person.
6) Check My Space (ed note: FACEBOOK, MY GOD, FACEBOOK NOT MY SPACE). Oh wait, this was back in 2006 when MySpace was still relevant. Carry on.), e-mail incessantly. Continue to not hear from person “x,” refuse to accept reality of situation by drinking lots of wine.
7) Sign on to AIM and talk to a different mutual friend — mention you have not heard from aforementioned person. Wait for friend to suggest plans. Continue to wait until you realize, “boy I need to get a life.”
8) Resign yourself to the fact that you will not see this person. Go out to the same bar your last night in town, run in to the same people, keep looking at the door, realize you are a loser.
9) On return flight, run into yet another mutual acquaintance who saw person you wanted to see but didn’t see. This confirms they are alive and able to make/keep plans with other people besides you. Remind yourself you need to re-read, “He’s Just Not That Into You.”
10) Spend three plane rides and two layovers reading/sulking. Call best friend with prepaid phone card to bitch.
11) As you are writing this list, person IM’s you to ask if you are still in town and makes up lie about looking for you in bar. Want to throw yourself off bridge.
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Ahh, memories. The person I was trying to meet up with, we’ll call him Michael Myers, was a friend from high school, who is now engaged to a person from high school that is not me.
Michael Myers was a pro at feeding me bullshit – he even had the audacity to come to Chicago a few years ago and NOT CALL ME but CLAIM he had call me. Um, WTF, dude. Just don’t even bother telling me you’re here so that I rearrange my entire schedule for three days only to end up sitting by myself on my couch watching the Golden Girls (okay maybe I’d be doing that anyway…but still).
He definitely mastered the I-am-dying-to-see-you-I’m-scheduling-a-trip-to-see-you-when-you’re-home-I’m-spending-all-my-time-with-you act. And for the record, I have not seen him since…2000. Maybe 2001. And that was when I ran into him at the grocery store when he was with his then-girlfriend’s mother (if ever I had an arch-nemesis, that hoe bag was it…the girlfriend, not the mom).
As Katy Perry says so nicely, “shut up and put your money where your mouth is.”
A Series of Very Bad Decisions 