Hermitage Pt II

nophone

As some of you may be aware, my neighbors’ WiFi moved in October.  Its departure created something of a hermitage for me, separating me from the world.  The loss was mitigated by the kind loan of my former neighbor’s old smartphone, which I could use to access the Internet at locations other than my apartment.

We called it The Pink Phone, owing to the device’s raspberry-hued case.  It was certainly an upgrade to the phone I had previously been borrowing, dubbed The Dinosaur.  Faster, more storage, capable of installing Instagram, it was a blessing.  A mere two mile bike ride away lies an open WiFi connection, and the hermitage didn’t seem so bleak.  The world was not that distant.

Sadly, The Pink Phone has died.  It opened SnapChat for the last time on Tuesday afternoon, and has been unresponsive since.  It powers up, and will display a pulsing Motorola logo (which looks like Madonna’s boobs in her huge conical bra, this similarity has been confirmed), but it doesn’t boot the operating system, even with the “power button and volume down” reboot.

It’s left something of a hole in my life.  Though it lacked a data plan, the phone still provided relief from boredom in a number of ways.  There was a fish tank that didn’t require Internet access, there were a number of books on it, I could take and discard photos whenever I wished.  Wednesday I found myself picking it up for one purpose after another, only to set it down in disappointment.  I placed it in a drawer, in hopes that in a week or two it will forget that it doesn’t work, yet my eyes still wandered the coffee table on Thursday, hunting for the phone and its many diversions.

As this post proves, all is not lost.  I can still access the Internet from the library computers for three half-hour periods a day.  But no more SnapChat.  I can like and comment on others’ IG posts, but can post nothing of my own (and Lord only knows what’s going on in my DMs).  I can log into the Twitter accounts with memorable passwords, but there are a few personas that are as good as dead.  Facebook is an abomination and passes unmourned.

There’s hope.  My former neighbor will be able to upgrade their phone in April, and it seems likely that I will enjoy a situation not unlike the one I just lost.  I can return to former levels of online activity in time.

Until then, remember me fondly, and post #FrancoFriday stuff on my behalf.

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