LOST

Day #1: In Denial

Last Sunday I put three things in my jacket pocket before I left the apartment: my camera, my keys, and my cell phone. I also poured myself a quick glass of orange soda before I headed out because it was the only beverage we had in the fridge besides Ketchup. I met Darin at the elevator. Our intention was to do something cool, like build a snow cave or something, but instead we ended up walking up to a large snow bank across the street, kicking it a few times, and giving up. We decided to walk down the trail by the Winooski River to see how Ian’s fort held up over Christmas vacation. Ian’s fort was built by my friend Ian. He made it a few months ago in the woods near our apartment building because we were going through this nature survival tv program phase (i.e. Bear Grylls.) Anyways, when we got there, I saw that someone (college students, a homeless person??) had tripled the size of the shelter with logs added across the front. This was exciting to me, and knew Ian would be thrilled about these developments, so I had to call him to discuss it. That’s when I discovered I had lost my cell phone – which is where I was going with this story.

I panicked when I realized it was gone, and began searching the ground around the hobo hut, thinking that it must have dropped out of my pocket. Darin came up with reasonable explanations for where it might be (at the apartment) and I – being quite flustered and certain that he was wrong – insisted that it could only be in unreasonable places (stolen by a hobo.) When I got back home, I swept over the apartment, but too much in despair to try that hard to look for it. I already knew I wouldn’t find it. It was on vibrate, which mean that if it was in the snow, I wouldn’t hear it, and if it was in my apartment, I would hear it (which I didn’t.)

Day #2: I wish everyone I knew would lose something valuable to them, so that they would understand my suffering.

I was angry at the world for swallowing up my two month old cell phone, and I couldn’t stop obsessing over how gone it was. It was hard to concentrate on homework that day because my thoughts would go, “Okay, I need to read page PHONE ten in this book and answer PHONE questions about PHONE PHONE PHONE it to post PHONE online.” My pocket felt empty. I kept wanting to call people to tell them that I lost my phone. I would be stabbed through the heart every time I realized how much that idea didn’t make sense. I also felt insanely jealous of anyone I saw operating a telephone that day, especially my friends. “Insensitive traitors!” I would think.

I also made a plan with my mom that if I didn’t find my phone by tomorrow, she would replace it, but it would have to be mailed to me, since U.S. Cellular doesn’t exist in Vermont. That meant it would arrive at the earliest on Friday. Friday seemed really far away.

Day #3: Ready to talk about it.

By now, I had realized that my phone was actually gone and I was ready to go public with the news. My Facebook message read: “LOST: 1 grey and orange phone yesterday (sunday) in spinner/skating rink/trail to Ian's fort. Responds by vibrating when called.”

I was also able to think practically about the matter at certain times throughout the day. I cleaned out my desk drawer in case it was buried in the clutter. I made a third trip out to the hobo hut but I didn’t really look for the phone, because it was clear that someone was sleeping in it at night, and I was afraid of being raped and murdered if I hung out there too long.

At other times throughout the day, I was still angry and unreasonable about my loss. I looked at some baby photos of myself on the computer to make my problem seem insignificant in the context of my entire life. It helped a little, but then I just felt stupid about looking at the pictures at all. Also, all of the stress made me want to call my mom a lot. Which reminded me that I didn’t have a phone a lot.

Day #4: Feeling like a pioneer, except instead of traversing the Great Plains in a wagon without getting dysentery, I have traversed 72 hours without instant connection to everyone I know.

I had a revelation about communication today: they way people solve (or try to solve) their problems in 2010 is by announcing them to the world. Think about how many “FML” Facebook statuses are out there. Every time something goes wrong, we whip out our cell phones and call someone for reassurance. It’s how we cope with scary and confusing. Last winter, when I got pulled over by a cop for the first time, I called my dad when I couldn’t find the car’s registration instead of continuing to look for it like a reasonable person would. I probably thought his voice would reassure me, but if he hadn’t picked up, I would or wouldn’t have figured out where the paper was, and either way, I’d have gotten through it.

After that thought, I felt much more Zen about the matter. I did start to feel pretty tough for spending a whole week of college without a cell phone, but then I started thinking about the guy in the hobo hut…

photo from:

http://www.aboutcellulars.com