So I'm at the 2004 Vodafone New Zealand Music Awards and I figure, "hey, what the hell, why don't I just throw my phone away?"
So I do.
FUCK.
FUCCCCCCCK!
A few years ago I was in Sydney for the first time, touring around (not in a van) and taking tourist type photos albeit with my unique comic brilliance appended, and then I went on a bus. 'Twas the night of the Madi Gras, and Tyler and I were heading out to I believe check out the hooters resteraunt (see Tyler in the dictionary) and I left my camera on the bus. Nice one.
Of course I noticed very quickly but as we wandered Syndey's CBD during the celebration/party/whatever there was little hope of finding the bus or indeed the camera upon the bus. So it was lost to mankind forever.
Now who cares? Not me really, it was a crappy camera, but. BUT. But it had my photos on it. Photos of me on holiday that I wanted and treasured, and goddamnit I wanted those.
Shit out of luck.
And that is the situation here.
I don't really give a damn about the phone per se, for indeed it was old and due to die soonish, but I do care about my precious collection of text messages. Some going back many years.
FUCK.
It is made even more annoying by the fact that I have known I liked them and wanted to back them up but never got aroudn to it. I even went in last week to see Mog and use his super bluetooth sms suck down program, but it wasn't going to be as straightforward as I assumed, and he pointed out I could just type them in anyway. (Which was true, but I had wanted to keep the actual message with who it was from, although I remembered at some stage that the from field in a SMS can be forged just as easily as in an email) So I didn't bloody back them up on Monday, and now, they are gone.
Damnit.
It is possible that someone will hand it in, but I doubt it. It is blocked with Vodafone, and I won't lose my number (is this another reason why pre pay might suck, you might lose your phone number if your phone is stolen as you have no official relationship between Vodafone, you, and your number?) It will be interesting to see if it was used in the max one hour between loss and blockage, but I guess it is more likely to be picked up and thrown away or picked up and used by someone else's SIM card. I guess I'll check my bill.
More grumbling to come. For now, I give you some remembered text messages.
No, actually this dodgy Internet cafe is going to kick me out. Suffer.
Posted by luther at September 23, 2004 01:40 AM | TrackBackI remember mosh-pit-partaking at the Dux (yes, very crowded) and my phone leaped out of my pocket. I didn't notice until a few hours later.
Empathy really isn't my strong point but I hope you get what I'm trying to say...
Bugga!
Posted by: heq on September 23, 2004 09:22 AMone word: manbag
or pockets with zips.
either way.
i feel your pain. i used to be a diary writer (as in on paper) but gave it up just about the time my life actually became too interesting to spend time writing about it. so now my personal history consists of emails and message logs and such and so forth. if my computer ever incinerated, that would be what i'd miss.
oh yeah, and the hundreds of work files and digital photos. baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack uuuuuuuuuuuuuupppppppppppppp
(quick! before the "i'm sure it won't come through the windows" water blaster man gets going)
Posted by: madoo on September 23, 2004 11:00 AMarse. Have you tried txting phone telling person who may have it where to give it back to you?
Posted by: Dave on September 23, 2004 01:52 PMSuck it up (Pete probably stole it).
Posted by: tark on September 23, 2004 06:41 PM