So yesterday I dropped my phone in a toilet and was forced to take out the battery and wait until it dries out to use it again. Which is incredibly frustrating when my boyfriend lives far far away, but is also making me think about memory and history. In school, I had tons of phone numbers memorized-- easily twenty and possibly even more. Because there was no option. Now that my phone will store those numbers for me, I wouldn't even recognize the number if a friend called me on someone else's phone. Until recently, I didn't even know my own boyfriends number, because to me it was '1 call' instead of a complex stream of numbers. Phone numbers are in a way becoming like URLs, where the number itself is computer code that most people don't need or want to learn and all that matters is the pretty name you attach to it. Which in turn makes sense when you think about the way phone numbers used to work at the turn of the last century, when you could ask the operator for 'San Francisco 295' or the like. This is not a profound thought, I'm just musing. And attempting to make the pitiful state of my phone into more than just an incredibly annoying accident!

Wish me a working phone in the morning!
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