Festive is irksome, yet irksome is surprisingly unfestive.

January 01, 2013

I have put off writing this post.
Now, I'm being far more dramatic than necessary, but hey, its what I do.

Sadly and unfortunately, my phone was stolen from my handbag whilst we were living it up on holiday in Cape Town.

I've only ever had one thing stolen from me and that was my swimsuit in grade 5.  Random, hey?  Who steals a swimsuit?  Yuck.  

Needless to say I was extremely, vehemently, furious at this occurrence.  (The phone, not the swimsuit... actually also the swimsuit, that was pretty traumatic)

Someone took something that was mine.  That I loved and used ALL the time for EVERYTHING.  Something that was a gift from my parents last year just before I got married.

That thing.  Its gone.
There are people in this world who personify pets, treat them like children and empathize with their little souls to the point of prechewing their food (gross...).  I somehow get attached to things that are indubitably without spirit and/or feeling.  

Like my unofficial first car.  

Ducky was her name and she was so wonderful.  Even after her tragic accident involving a loose oil cap and a lack of general knowledge regarding the oil light.  (How was I to know that the oil light was indicating more imminent danger and less a polite suggestion to simply check the oil...seriously?) 

Even after the engine successfully overheated and warped the sumethineruther... Ducky would still run, but only for little tiny trips and with a maze of special treatment where myself and the clutch were concerned.  She tried so hard and when I missed the bus to work and always got me there on time...what a gem.

One day, however, it was deemed that Ducky was no longer safe to drive for fear that the sumethineruther would explode, putting lives at risk and such.  So we began the long road to the horrible place where cars go to get put down.  Because driving her seemed more financially prudent than spending the exorbitant tow fee, we mustered up the courage for one last ride.

Problem? I really felt like I was letting go of a pet.  But I had to ride the pet to the vet.  

I loved that car, and I loved my phone even though it was all cracked on the back because I can't seem to manage not dropping really expensive stuff.  It just comes naturally.   Jealous?  Its ok.  I'm sure you have some redeeming qualities.

All my cute little vids from the trip, my pictures with a piece of the Berlin Wall that I was SO excited/fascinated to show off.  

Those things are only important to me.  No one could ever buy food or bail a friend out of jail with the stuff that is on that little device, yet it was stolen.  I probably would have paid more money to get it back than those silly thieves will ever get for any part of it.

That is the kind of stupidity that blows my mind.  Also, the fact that obscenely rich people are the people that get the most free stuff that they will seldom use.  Revolting.

However, even though the carefree haze of the season made me let down my guard and lost me my phone, it also taught me that things are just things.  No matter how much I dearly love them.  After they're gone, I'm still alive and although it took me a good few days to stop pouting... I remain emotionally stable.
The Happy news?  Its 2013 and, my new phone actually talks to me.  You understand how this doesn't help my issue with assigning personalities to things that aren't alive.   

But riddle me this: What do you do when your husband starts talking inappropriately to Siri and she responds?  Is that cheating?  

Happy New Year.  Lets not pretend were all not super relieved to be rid of 2012.

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