I lost my phone number...

I remember when I knew at least 30 phone numbers off the top of my head. Take out the (900) numbers and I knew about 20 phone numbers. Still pretty respectable considering I only paid 12 of those people to give me their phone numbers. How many phone numbers do I know today? Three, Tres, Trois, Drei. I know how to say the number 3 in more languages than I know phone numbers. (You might have to read that last sentence a couple more times for it to make sense. I did.) The 3 numbers are: Mine, Lindy's, and Work. No, 911 doesn't count. Or is it 119? Ever since Zack Morris started sporting that 20 pound cell phone, the whole world changed, because everyone wanted to be as cool as Zack Freakin' Morris. (You mean you didn't??? LOSER!).

I remember when I brought my first cell phone to school. This was back when people were still using beepers, so obviously, I was way ahead of the game. During lunch, I made a huge show of pulling out my cell phone in front of everyone sitting at my table. "Gotta take this call. You couldn't hear it cause it was on vibrate." Actually, no one was calling. I just wanted to show it off. I talked to the invisible man with a louder than normal voice so I could get more people's attention. The highlight of the show was when I said, "hold on a sec, you're breaking up a bit." That's when I pulled out the antenna. (Can you say, show-stopper?)

I talked on the phone, or rather, to myself for about 2 or 3 minutes. But that was long enough to be the envy of one person. My principal. She was so jealous she took it away. She was mad... I couldn't understand her anger. Maybe it was because she was still using a beeper, or that she heard my friends and I making fun of her earlier for spelling "BONES point" instead of "BONUS points" on the board when she subbed for our algebra class the day prior.

I met with her after school and tried to sweet talk her into giving me my cell back. It didn't work, of course. She told me the only way I could get it back was if my parents wrote a note for her. Easy! All I did was asked a friend with neat handwriting to write the note for me, and I was already a master at forging my parents' signatures. (You get to be pretty good at forgery when your report card never contains any vowels.) The next day, my cell phone was returned.

After 6 years of owning a cell phone, I can't, for the life of me, comprehend how I managed to survive without one for so many years! I use it to find out where people are, what they're doing, what they're wearing, etc... (I know, we have Facebook for that). Cell phones are very useful in so many ways. For example, if you're supposed to meet your date somewhere and they're late, you can simply call them and ask them where they are. Most of the time they're stuck in traffic, but sometimes they don't answer at all and they avoid you for about a week and when you see them again, they say they forgot you had a date and that they never received a call. (No, I never had that experience...)

Anyway, cell phones are great. Especially if you're talking to your girlfriend and you can sense she's about to break-up with you. Just hang up and tell her later that your phone died. Most people find it harder to break-up with someone in person.

"Cell Phones: Making excuses, break-ups, and lies easier since Zack Morris."

Random Thoughts

So I decided to start a blog. It's mostly going to be random things that go on through my head when I'm running (because you have a lot of time to think about stuff when you're running), when I'm up late because I'm having trouble sleeping, or when I'm at work in between texting friends and family while on the clock. I wanted to document my randomness because I know one day, I'm going to be old and forget things. My memories of certain parts of my life have already started to fuzz. Can you imagine what my memory will be like when I'm too old to even wipe my own...face? That will be a sad day. Can you imagine the zits??? My thoughts tend to jump sporadically and can be triggered by a number of things:

Today, for example, I walked by ROLL: (a bike store, for those of you who don't know) and thought about my first time riding a bike. I don't exactly remember how old I was, but I'm going to guess around 4 or 5 years old. Now, I didn't start out riding with training wheels or anything like that. We were pretty poor and I shared a full-size bike with my uncle. My uncle sat on the bike seat and I sat in front of him on the frame of the bike. I don't remember what it felt like to straddle a bike frame, but I'm going to say that it probably wasn't very comfortable. I'm sure wedgies were a very common occurrence also.

So my uncle is peddling along and he let's me hold onto the handlebars. I remember thinking that it was pretty easy. Our street, however, were full of animals. Within a few seconds of taking control of the bike, all these CHICKENS start running and flapping their way in front of me! But with my 5 seconds of experience of riding a bike, I expertly maneuvered around them. Unfortunately, my victory was short-lived as a GOAT crossed my path... That's right, a goat. I hit it straight on and I start flying over the handlebars. I don't remember what happened to my uncle, but I'm sure he bailed right before the chickens crossed the road because I don't remember him being injured at all.

As the 4 or 5 years of my life flashed before my eyes, I braced myself for the inevitable pain. I land face first onto the road (which is probably why I have a flat nose). Actually, I blame my mom's genes for this nose, but hey, it does the job. Anyway, I managed to keep all my teeth, but my right front tooth was pushed back behind my left front tooth. This is a true story. My parents paid quite a bit of money to fix my teeth. Ask them for the receipt, I'm sure they'll show you.

As I get older, I remember less and less about my childhood. But this memory tends to stick with me. I may not have all the facts, but this is what I think I know. I think about my life back in the Philippines pretty often. It is where I was born and where many of my family members still live. Talking to them sometimes takes me back to when I didn't know a single English word and I looked like one of those kids from "Feed the Children" commercials. It takes me back to when my favorite toys were spiders and tires. Looking at where I am now, I wouldn't trade this life to go back to that. However, even though I didn't have much growing up in the Philippines, I had some of the best times of my life there. And I wouldn't trade my childhood for anything.