As it turns out...

electronics and water don't mix.  Who knew?  Apparently not me, because last month my cell phone ended up going through the washing machine.  I'm a first timer with cell phones. I received my first one sometime in December and wasn't really prepared for the responsibility that came with it.  I didn't necessarily want one, but it was a good deal, so Reed signed me up.  The thing about cell phones is that people can call you when you are out.  I'm still not sure how I feel about that. I got my first phone call while shopping at Target and I was mortified to be having a private conversation in public.  It was my nephew, Colton, so I'm sure it was very important, and I was having it in PUBLIC.  Another thing about them is that for them to be useful you have to turn them on and take them with you.  Thanks again, Jammie, for showing me how to turn it on.  And Niki, for showing me that I had voice messages.  So, after a few snags, and a few firm "talking's to" I got used to the idea, and then I couldn't be without it.  After the washer incident I felt a little incomplete in my travels, so I set out to rectify the situation.  After about three weeks of letting it dry out I tried the Sprint store.  She told me to put it in a bag of rice.  So I did.  And I am not kidding you the phone did not dry out, but instead, started rattling.  Almost as if some rice got sucked into the innards. Plan 1 failed.  Plan 2 had to do with surfing the web.  I tried eBay but things started to look a little shady when people wrote stuff like "ESN number can be activated in about six months.  It's a great deal if you can wait."  And then I had a mental picture of a semi-truck pulling up to a stoplight in inner-city New Jersey and the contents of the trailer being emptied before the light turned green.  Then me calling to activate the phone and being caught with stolen merchandise.  No thanks.  I tried KSL.  One chap was willing to meet me at a TRAX stop under the cover of darkness.  I value my life too much, I thought I should pass.  Plan 3 had to do with going to a used cell phone store.  I called first and sure enough, they had what I needed.  I arrive with my three young children in tow and they have exactly one phone that will fit my needs, and as it turns out, my budget.  The man turns it on, and instantly I was treated to the most terrifyingly weird slide show on the screen.  I didn't even know they had slide shows.  The screensaver on the phone was a tasteful array of Latin inspired devils, clowns (the really scary kind), and a baseball player of unknown origins, and was previously owned by a crackhead named Leah.  "I think I'll keep looking," I say and hurry my kids the heck out of there, wondering where I can get bleach for my eyes so somehow I can forget those clowns.  By this time the frustration has mounted and I am sick of looking.  And so what is a girl to do you ask?  This girl heads back over to the Sprint store and buys herself a new phone.  A phone without a criminal past, a phone that wasn't bought at a Trax stop and sold in a brown paper bag for the price of a bottle of vodka and some prescription drugs, and certainly not a phone which was used by a creepy, clown loving crack head.  That's right.  I paid full retail price, minus the fifteen dollar buy back for my old phone.  I am not sorry, but I haven't told Reed yet so keep this one to yourselves.