catching these spontaneous moments was one of my favorite things about owning an iphone. but alas, it seems i'm simply not an adult enough to keep one alive (but hey-i've kept a cat alive for 12 years! knock on wood, i can't be that bad!).
my first iphone seemed to be so tough that after dropping it at least 80 times from my overall chest pocket while bending over at work, to no consequence, i became nonchalant. then one day i didn't even pick it up after dropping it absent-mindedly. instead, i stepped on it. one down.
so after over a year of hand wringing and withdrawl, i bought another one. used.
after three blissful months, it just mysteriously stopped working in the middle of hopping trains to cleveland. now don't laugh. this may sound irresponsible, but understand that this time i was so careful! I had it packed away in my backpack in a plastic ziploc bag and didn't even turn it on! but the genius at the apple store announced it dead on arrival due to water damage, data not even salvageable.
the conclusion to be drawn is that clearly, i'm not meant to have an iphone. so although my work takes me between two studios, and art gallery, a tattoo shop and all up and down the new york and beyond's waterfront, i pack this little green flip phone--a years old cast off hand-me-down from the williamsons. sometimes it just stops charging, but eventually it rallies. these days it's become a conversation piece. it seems there are two kinds of phone people use: the $20 disposable drug dealer phones or the iphone/blackberry/android smartphone. when i pull out my motorola pebl, it is met with laughter and wonder. as though instead of pulling out an ipod on the subway, i've pulled out an 8-track machine.
but i'm not afraid to break it, and hence, it survives.
this, by the way, is how i feel about expensive jewelry. terrified. gimme rhinestones any day and no thanks to diamonds.