special rings

losing my phone is one of the best (and worst) things ever.

because one, i get ringcited - i get excited when i see unfamiliar numbers flashing on the substitute cell. it's almost orgasmic. i see an unfamiliar number and i get butterflies in my tummy. "who's this? oh, who can that be? oh, is it xxx?! no, don't tell me it's zzz, crap! should i pick up the phone?"

i do.

and it's always people i like.

because two, these are people who remember you. the numbers i am slowly storing call-by-call belong to those of an elite group, as edna already knows, it's our people.

no other way to put it, whowasit who said, my people? no phrase more apt to describe our gang of friends.

they are our people. our people, our kind. my people, my kind.

and then because three, you realise how many telephone numbers you do remember - of the people you love dearest of your people. even the 11-digit cell numbers of people overseas (yes, Orni, one is you, yes, Edna, the other is you, and of course, Ravi).

but still, damn, i gotta get a new phone.