867-5309

[sisabet]

I just attempted to order a new cell phone. We shall see how this goes. I still have the old phone until then and lately I am making actual attempts to keep it charged and on me at all times - and this is a direct result of DRAMA in my office of late - we have houses burning to the ground, major surgeries, breakups and intrigue and just... well I have to actually be available lately, so if you need me and you have the old number - it still works until I tell you otherwise.

Just, don't, you know - actually call me. Cause I hate talking on the thing and everytime I hear it ring I assume someone is sick or having a baby right this minute.

And the reason I hate being on the telephone is not because I hate people. I normally love and am fascinated by people - even people without superpowers. I just hate the telephone. The telephone is my nemesis - my foil. We are engaged in an endless battle of wits and wiles, destined to be locked in the other's disdain and hate until finally one day, we realize our folly.

Wow - we are kind of like Clark/Lex in a way.

::writes sisabet/phone fic::

Now I realize that my hate was actually masking my extreme love for my phone! I should totally stalk my phone and maybe I could just devote the front room of my apartment to, like, a cell shrine or something? If I was confined to a scary asylum unjustly and against my will - I bet my cell phone would stage an escape that would be ultimately unsuccessful, but no less heartbreaking.

And then the lies just got to be too much and I just snapped and that is why I think I hate my phone, but I don't cause look at it! How can I hate it? It is blue. I love blue.

Comments

[lexica510.livejournal.com]

My favorite line from the movie The Station Agent: "I hate phones. I have two of them. I don't answer either one."