After a two week social hiatus I decided it would be a good idea to go out. You know, do young people things and meet some new "friends". Lately I've been holing myself up and trying to avoid alcohol and people.
For some reason, the two are inexplicably linked.
I decided I was going to go up to the local gay bar and see one of the RuPaul queens who was performing there. Seemed like a good choice.
After all was said and done I definitely had a bit too much to drink. We all have those moments where we succumb to our own chaos and end up creating a bit of a mess.
I think I left my phone on the bar, or dropped it when I was getting into my Uber. The funny thing is that I remember calling the Uber, and my phone was in my hand and then...like magic, it just wasn't.
The next morning I woke up and I felt like I was dying. My limbs were akimbo and it was clear I had slept in my party dress. Of course, the first thing I needed to do was get in the shower and steam out all of the toxins. This was an integral part of my morning routine in college when I would pull this sort of behavior four nights a week, as young people do.
It was about noon before I realized I had actually lost my phone, and not dreamed about it.
"Ah damn it. God damn it." I said as I reached for the land line that my aunt and uncle thankfully still have, due to a package deal with their TV and Internet provider.
"Yeah, dad I lost my phone. I'll probably never see it again, so what should I do. Do I have insurance?"
"Uh, yeah we'll call the insurance company and see what we can do."
A few hours later I found myself restless. What was I going to do all day if I couldn't check social media and complain via Twitter? Isn't this what I have devolved to: feeling totally disconnected without my little pocket world?
I finally got on the computer and checked my e-mail, you know, for possible job offers or important correspondence that usually just buzzes on my phone screen. Nothing. Of course.
A few more hours pass and in the afternoon sun I realize that I might just want to stay off the grid for a while. No phone, no problems right? I don't really need one to survive. I can make due with my computer. It's not like I have to answer to a lot of people or anything.
Then a thought ran through my head, maybe I should just get a flip phone or a blackberry. Maybe I should just move up to Sonoma county and only use my typewriter for a little while. That sounds good right?
Then I thought about the notifications that show up on a home screen, and how they'll pile up. I thought about how people would start to wonder whether I was relevant or not if I disappeared for a little while. Then I thought about people looking at me for social media jobs, and realizing that I couldn't even keep up with my own.
I guess the luxury of not having a phone was more impractical than I thought.
It's been two days, and I haven't missed it one bit. Sure it's nice to be connected, and it's sad that I lost all of my photos and that from my adventures over the past year, but it's really okay because everything is connected in my brain. At least, I think it is.
As much as people bitch about the disconnection that occurs when we plug in to our phones, they are a necessary evil in this day and age. We connect with employers, our friends and our families. But there is a cost to it, we tend to compare ourselves to others more often, we get jealous and bored of where our lives are. It's a connection to the things we want everyone to see, and it's a distraction from the things that actually are. Losing my phone has taught me that what we see online is just an expertly curated bit of bullshit. It takes a lot more courage to face the facts.