I got a new cell phone, which I may or may not have mentioned. I totally forget what I write here, what goes in a column, or what my children are lucky enough to hear my say as I walk around the house. Sometimes I'll be on the phone to Roz (okay, all the time) and we'll be laughing away, and when I hang up I'll turn to Ari to tell him something we said and he just looks at me all deadpan and says "I know, I heard you, we all heard you" and leaves the room. Brat.
Anyway. I needed a new cell. My old one was a MiPhone but it was slow and old and crappy (mmm; not unlike it's owner, come to think of it) and even though Ari kept saying he could download things to make it faster, it would still be old and crappy (he didn't mention any downloads that might help me out in any of those departments). Christer came home with a new phone, called an android. I snickered. Then he showed it to me, and I went and got myownself one of these androids. It does everything MiPhone did, but takes better pics and videos. And most importantly of all, I have a kid who knows the entire phone and all it can do because when boys get a new phone, they spend the first 24 hours figuring it out, unlike me and MiPhone that I still couldn't work properly after 3 years.
I gave Christopher's girlfriend Pammy MiPhone, and she squealed, had Ari download all the new apps, figured it out and popped it into a darling pink glittery case and now uses the phone I thought was useless. And I have an android. And on day two, as noted elsewhere in these blogs, I smashed it off my tower while I was charging it and broke the glass cover. I went to the Store You Go To When You Don't Want to Tell Your Cell Phone Company You Broke Your Phone Because They Rip You Off, and found out they wanted to charge me 150 bucks for a replacement screen. "What?" I yelped. "Who do you think you are, the cell phone company?" The phone works fine, it is just badly wounded, so I've been using it ever since. Though it's hard to have much self confidence when you casually whip out your android to use, and 1) can't remember how to turn it on every time, and 2) it has a big crack and chip on the front.
The battery kept draining too fast, so as I was whining that I hated it (I tend to think in extremes) Christer grabbed it and showed me how to really turn it off, opposed to just sorta turning it off. Ohhhhhhh. Now what happens when I really turn it back on is, it gurgles and farts a bit before the screen kicks in, and lights up more like a bear coming out of hibernation than a squirrel falling off a branch. It pauses and yawns, and an indicator comes on that says 'HTC' and underneath that in cool font it says 'quietly brilliant'. That's not the font. My blog only lets me have a choice of 5 fonts, each more boring than the last. The real font is kind of messy and cool. Anyway.
The other night Christer was on his computer, and I came and got my phone. It sits on the counter or in my purse, which is why I tell people not to bother calling my cell phone because I rarely look at it. I let it gurgle back to life, and smiled again at the little message. I smucked Christer, totally ignoring that he was talking to someone on his headset. I patiently waited while he impatiently pushed his headset off.
"Look, Christopher, I love this. Quietly brilliant," I showed him. Remember, he has the same phone.
"Would you mind going being quietly brilliant someplace else?" he asked me.
We are apparently enthralled by different things.