What a pisser! I lost my James Bond phone Saturday night somewhere between a party here, Cafe Saint-Ex, and Habana Village. I also think I broke a toe. Fantastic night though, with MJ and her charming lovely medical student/triathelete friend S and J from Down South. It was really like what a night out on the town should be like. We felt and looked amazing, laughing and dancing, exploring and enjoying my hood. Should not have given S that Newport. Big faux pas for those serious athletes. J almost called off the engagement.
I am experiencing waves of grief about my phone today. Yesterday I just was in denial. I suppose I shouldn't feel so badly because the phone was free (it sometimes helps that my Dad is golf buddies with the CEO of Samsung in Korea). I had just gotten used to luxury of it and now it is hard to go back. I feel highly inconvenienced as I realise (sadly) that the phone was my lifeline. I'm already misisng that friendly buzz when its on "vibrate." The "Back on the Chain Gang" ring tone. The internet access. And the camera! No more taking pictures of my boss behind his back - pissing in the bathroom, asleep at his desk.
My poor phone is probably buried in a snow bank right now.
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