So, this occurred.
Y'all. I should not be given nice things. In high school there were these two sisters, and their dad was a dentist, and they told me their mom always said they could have more clothes if they just took care of the clothes they already HAD. Seeing as I had bupkis, it drove me crazy that they clearly did not take care of the clothes they had, because they wore the same things all the time.
"Like, they could get taken to Jacobson's if they'd just HANG UP THEIR CLOTHES," I'd obsess. Jacobson's was a fancy department store in my town. My grandmother used to buy me my clothes there, then when I was a freshwoman or sophomore she got depressed and stopped doing that or anything, really, but sitting around her house listening to Pink Floyd. I am not making that part up.
She also used to watch MTV and liked her some Bon Jovi as the years ticked by, and I could never get her off Bon Jovi and into The Cure. But that's a whole 'nother story. And yes, that IS the grandmother I'm turning into, and am really looking forward to the debilitating depression, and I hope I sigh a lot and act like a jerk who expects everyone to get depressed with me.
But I digress. Let me put on some Pink Floyd and continue.
See what I did there?
So, I broke my goddamn phone, and careful readers will recall it was A YEAR AND A HALF AGO that I dropped my originally scheduled iPhone into the toilet, because I was cleaning said toilet and emailing Daniel Boone simultaneously, which
Phone Tips From June: is not a good idea.
(I totally would have never hung my clothes up even with the reward of fancy new ones from Jacobson's. I mean, you already knew that, right?)
So then yesterday I smashed my phone to bits, and was all, Ooops, and then was all, Shit. Which
Phone Tips From June: does not help.
I tried to just, you know, MAKE A GO of it the way it was, cracked and shattered JUST LIKE MY SOUL--sighhhhh.
(I got a little black book, with my poems in....God, I do love the Pink Floyd song. GOT A BAG, TOOTHBRUSH AND A COMB IN.)
But whenever I used my finger to scroll across the iPhone screen, I'd get tiny shards of glass embedded in my flesh, which
Anatomy Tips From June: hurts.
"I smashed my phone up by accident," I wrote Ned. "I couldn't remember the password for my home network, and I slammed the phone down in frustration and boom. It just shattered." I said that like all of this happened to me and none of it was my own fault.
"If I had never smashed an inanimate object into breakery before I might use this as a learning moment to caution you re your temper. But oh how I have done the smashing! So I understand," said Ned, who probably never hung up his clothes as a youth.
So after work I went to the Apple store, with my many dollars. My hope was that they could fix the screen, somehow, at least till June when my contract was up.
Have you ever BEEN to the Apple store? This was a Tuesday at 6:00 and you'd think it was Studio 54, and I dearly wish I could think of a hot club from this century ever. I mean, girlfriend was PACKED. Nerdy people, old people, Bianca Jagger on a white horse, you could barely MOVE.
They took my name and told me to wait, and I would have used that time to check my phone but, ow. Checking my phone, turning into a cutter. Suddenly it was all the same.
So I watched people. There was a pudgy guy about my age who kept giving me the old eye. Oh, yes, come on over and get to know June and her Financial Wizardry, over here. June and her Fine Temper. June, Keeper of Nice Things. You won't be sorry.
There were also two low tables filled with kids playing on tablets, and I do not mean, like, Moses' tablets, but rather fancy iPads or whatever. None of these kids were over the age of eight, and yet they were scrolling and pinching and moving objects and I'll bet those tablets are riddled with kid germs. The best part about that is right behind them was a class going on, where about 20 people ALL OVER THE AGE OF 55 were learning HOW to use computers. If I'd...had a phone I'd have taken a picture.
Photography Tips From June: Taking pictures with your phone cuts your finger.
Eventually this kid came over. "Hi, I'm August, your Apple Genius." That's what the sales staff are called, and I do not think that they know everything about Granny Smiths or how to work your core.
"Wow, August? That's cool, because my name is June."
"Is it really?"
"No. But I have a blog." I ended up telling him about my blog, and about my tens of readers, and he called the whole damn site up on his tablet, there, and he said, "Wow, so you don't use your real name, even? That's great. That's so stripperesque."
Okay, that's my new favorite thing. I am stripperesque. How soon till I break the pole, do you think?
The GOOD NEWS is that I'm almost done with this story and also that I HAD INSURANCE. Apparently when I bought the SECOND posttoilet iPhone back in 2011, I got the good insurance in case I, oh, you know, broke another phone, by chance. I mean, so not like me. But just in case.
So I did a mature, careful thing, which
Financial Tips From June: Sometimes, surprise yourself by doing mature, careful things.
And so, my friends, I now own an iPHONE FOUR!!!! Because I have the good insurance!!!
Okay, it's not an iPhone 5--who am I, June Rockefeller? But the iPhone 4!!!! Have wanted for so long. Have had the 3 for ages now, and Marie Antoinette called. Literally. The iPhone 3 was super inconvenient, because it texted in Middle English.
TEXT FROM HULK: What's up?
TEXT FROM JUNE: Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote, the droghte of Marche hath perced to the roote...
June's blog. Come for the many many laughs, someday. Stay for the part where June majored in English and whips out The Canterbury Tales.
My POINT is, now I own this:
And yes, my hair IS lovely when I work out at night and sleep on it and get up and blog at you. PAY ATTENTION. Do you like my manly phone cover? I DID have to buy that. But still! I have a 4! I HAVE A FOURRRRR!
Blog Tips From June: End your post before everyone gets sick of you.
Reality Tips From June: Too late.