Can you hear me now? … hello?

Well, I got a cell phone. If you need some ice, I suggest you try looking in hell.

Three months ago, when I was back in my apartment, I would never have imagined myself with a cell. Even with a regular phone, I only got three calls each week; one from my parents, one from my sister, and one from the phone company. What did the phone company want? They wanted to sell me a cell phone.

I recruited my sister, longtime cell phone user, to help me with buying one. Every time I went into a cell phone store on my own, I was assaulted by a salesperson who began humping my leg and spouting nonsensical words like “Anytime Night and Weekend Minutes,” or “Long Distance Roaming Charges.” Jen helped me sort things out, and I am now the proud owner of a T-Mobile phone.

I’m still learning the basics of using it. Right now I can only enter names into my phone book and select the least annoying ring tone (which is to say I’ve turned it off). I’ve set it to vibrate when I receive a call. Now when my back is sore, I go into my room, pick up the house phone, lay down on my cell phone, and repeatedly call myself.

Just kidding. I wouldn’t lay down on my cell phone, it might break. Besides, it’s hard to get back up without having the arm and leg that I used to pay for it.