Pink Razr Malfunction

It's the damnedest thing.

I got a new hot pink razr cell phone last week and it appears to be malfunctioning.

EC was supposed to call to confirm our attendance at a play tomorrow evening (getting a little culture up in this bitch) but his calls haven't come through. Weird. Maybe I should take it into Tmobile and have Catherine Zeta-Jones-Douglas check it out.

Or, I can WAKE UP AND SMELL THE STARBUCKS. I jinxed it and no one is buying me a Coke (or anything else for that matter). EC has bonked his dialing karma. He has fallen into the lair of men in the greater Los Angles area that don't call. I called him a "dialer" too soon. I KNEW I shouldn't have taken him to the "man black hole". D'OH.

Perhaps he was intimidated by the pink razr. Perhaps he was in a freak accident that has left his fingers and toes inexplicably temporarily paralyzed. Perhaps his cell phone decided to pick up surfing. Perhaps he has decided that he likes men.

Perhaps it is a hell of a lot more amusing exploring those options than the one that is just plain old reality: My exquisite beauty, quick-witted humor and Einstein-like brains were too overwhelming for him.

That is my story and I'm sticking to it.

My inspirational calendar's saying for February says: "Listen to your heart above all other voices." Does this include the ones in my head? Hmmmm.