Somber Announcement

Yesterday morning, at around eleven o'clock, my cell phone took a flying leap straight into the toilet bowl. Trying hard not to think at all, I reached down and fished it out. But, obviously, this silver water baby was never meant to be, and I fear the damage may be irrevocable (and I don't know if I'd want it, even if it was perfectly fine--it's not like I can give it a good soapy scrub).

Disturbingly, this is not the first time I've found myself wrist deep in toilet water to make an emergency rescue. I don't know what the heck it is about me and dropping things in the john; but rest assured, the only thing I ever kept afterward was my goldfish (I was six, the fish was slippery).

Some would say of this unhappy incident with my cell phone that it had only been a matter of time. As I may have mentioned before, I'm a big-time klutz, and distracted to boot: a dangerous combination to myself and my possessions.

More things have met a cruel end at my bumbling hands than I care to admit. I won't frighten you with details of past destruction. My husband did once suggest that we keep nothing but plastic dishes in our kitchen. I didn't care for that suggestion--what is this, playschool? Unfortunately, it is true that anything not forged of titanium that enters our home is ultimately doomed.

As for what I've done to myself, sometimes I marvel that I'm still walking this earth in one piece. Under my picture in the high school yearbook could have been printed: "Most likely to accidentally die at her own hand (and probably in a ridiculous manner)." I once meat cleavered my finger when I was eight, helping my mom chop water chestnuts, singing at the top of my lungs, and not paying attention. Thank god I'd been a wimp and there hadn't been much power behind the chop. When I was ten, I was glancing back while racing out of an old bomb shelter I'd been exploring, and faced forward just in time for my face to collide with the low concrete entrance. Actually knocked myself out for a second; woke up on the ground with one hell of a sore head. I'm also just a tad too familiar with what burning hair smells like, and I've since learned not to lean so close to the stove, no matter how cold I am. The list goes on.

An unsettling update. My cell phone, damn its sturdy design, seems to have recovered from the shock of dirty wet circuitry--this much I deduced with a bit of prodding behind a nice shield of tissue paper (I'm not a freak; the phone is coated in dried toilet water, for god's sake.) So what the heck do I do? Do I waste a perfectly good cell phone and get a new one, thereby also breaking my phone contract? Or do I think of some way to clean the darn thing so that I can actually bring myself to touch it without a desire for rubber gloves? I am more inclined toward option number one.

I must say that this present phone is sporting some severe battle scars, having endured my less-than-graceful handling, and perhaps it is time to get a new one that I will promise to take better care of, one which perhaps has a better digital camera...?

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Hi! This is a marvelous, messy, slightly confusing treasure chest of a blog and I am glad I found it. You make me laugh. How about trying some rubbing alcohol or anti-bacterial hand wash for the cell phone (if you can get thsoe things in Tokyo...)?  

- Jessica Nipp

12/17/2004 01:06:00 AM  

the only thing I ever dropped in the toilet was my sister's tamagotchi. I killed it. I was supposed to be looking after it for the weekend and it died. I felt almost as much guilt about that electronic device as if I'd neglected someone's goldfish. 

- the B

12/17/2004 01:07:00 AM  

Do not despair. Your cellphone will find a place in small electronics heaven alongside my beloved, waterlogged digital camera. 

- steve

12/17/2004 01:20:00 AM  

Hey girls and guy,

Welcome to my blog!

Ms. Nipp, I apologize for the mess. I try so hard to create some semblance of structure in this blog, but it's merely a reflection of what goes on inside my head. Thank you for the phone-cleansing suggestions--and yes, you can get those things in Tokyo--but what about the insides? Sigh, I just don't know.

the B, you drowned your sister's digi-pet? There, there, I know how easily things just...slip. It's like the toilet has some kind of magnetic pull. Sinister.

Steve, did your camera die in the toilet too? Cause I really would like to know I'm not the only one who loses things that way. 

- Rachel

12/17/2004 01:38:00 AM  

Oh my gosh I can't stop laughing! What was your phone doing in the bathroom to begin with? Pretty impressive that it survived.

For what it's worth, now you have a legitimate reason to get one of those cute animal shaped phone covers so you won't actually have to *touch* it to your face. They might even have one in the shape of a mini-dachshund. 

- Lynn

12/17/2004 11:23:00 AM  

Phew, it seems the memory on my phone managed to hang on, but the phone itself was dead--couldn't receive calls, etc.

So (a) I don't have to torture myself with whether or not to keep a soiled phone; and (b) I won't be required to get one of those fluffy phone covers that you were suggesting, Lynn.

- Rachel

12/23/2004 01:51:00 AM  

it was a long time ago with the tamagotchi. I think I've recovered and more importantly, I think my sister has also got over the loss now.

i recommend anti-bacterial wipes for anything that should go down the toilet in future - reasonably dry cleanage, and very effective. 

- The B

12/23/2004 02:43:00 AM  

I LIKE the mess! It's like a labyrinth, with fun little treats around every corner. I am glad your phone issue worked itself out. 

- Jessica

12/23/2004 02:53:00 AM  

This is hilarious. And I am glad you can get rid of the phone. Working circuitry or not, that one's destined for phone heaven. I wouldn't have been able to dive after it if I were you. 

- Hsin

12/27/2004 02:30:00 PM  

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