Bad news, y'all. I turned off my resurrected cell phone last week because the battery was dying and the beeping at 3 a.m. was enough to make me want to fastball it back into the pool. But the thing wouldn't turn on the next morning at all, even after I exposed its little battery and gave it a thorough exam and a full charge—which is disappointing because now I'm forced to rethink what constitutes a miracle, like when I got all excited about Snuggies.
So apparently the Rice-a-Phoni trick only works temporarily, or sometimes, or not at all. So sorry for depleting you of hope. Rice-a-Phony.
THEN, I got a new phone; and last night, after a particularly AWESOME day that left me feeling kind of, like, dumb, I lost my phone. You'll never guess where it was. Think Beach Boys, Good Vibrations, and substitute boob for good. Yeah, that's right. Let me know when you can get that song out of your head now, 'kay?