eye phone

After months of anticipation, speculation and trepidation, I have failed in my mission to get an iPhone.
In truth, I didn’t really try. When the long-awaited device finally hit stores last week, the BF and I were halfway to South Carolina, en route to a weekend at the lake with the in-laws. We didn’t return to civilization until Sunday night, and by then I wasn’t in the mood to deal with it.

I finally saw an actual iPhone yesterday. Three of them. We went to a July 4 pool party and the many iPhones on hand were the hit of the afternoon. Maybe it says something about the (rapidly advancing) age of my friends, but folks at the pool were a lot more interested in showing off their phones’ YouTube clips than cruising the boys in skimpy swimsuits. Sigh. Technology is a cruel mistress.

I haven’t given up on getting an iPhone, but I’m somewhat ambivalent about it—which surprises me. Thing is, I do actually need a new phone. I dropped my Razr in a glass of vodka (don’t ask) at my birthday party back in April, and the old girl hasn’t worked right since. But now, I feel like I’ve missed the first wave.

(The above illustration, by the way, actually has nothing to do with the iPhone mania. It’s another drawing for the Loaf.)