Posted by L.A.
I love my iPhone. Seriously. It’s a little too intense for life, how much one can love an electronic device. But here we are, me waxing poetic about my love for a stupid phone.
the top five reasons I love my phone
5. instant communication.
— Laura Anne (@LA_theGirl) June 10, 2015
4. the ability to stay connected to people that you normally wouldn’t.
3. the information highway.
I love being able to be on a road trip with my family and have discussions such as these:
Dad: I believe the background Book of Mormon was written by Joseph Mormon and was based on these golden plates that an angel gave to him to translate.
Me: How did he translate it?
Dad: I think he had some sort of translating stone.
Me: Also given to him by the angel?
Dad: Of course! I don’t know, I could be making this all up. Look it up. Do you have your phone? Google it.
This also lead to the information drought of 2015, when we drove to Canada and didn’t have access to the internet, only texting and phone.
2. Selfies. On selfies on selfies on selfies. I love photos. AND NOW A CAMERA IS IN MY POCKET FOR EVER. #SNAPCHAT (@LA_theGirl)
The number one reason that I love my phone:
1. Spider just crawled on my desk and that phone killed it dead.*
*Author’s note: the next day, another spider jumped on her desk, and she did not have her phone and she crushed it with her bare head because scared of spiders and BAMF.
Posted by L.A.
Update at the bottom!
I made a goal right before I started typing this post. I’m going to use a term 9 times in the course of this blog. Why 9? I’ll never tell. Actually, I will, at the end of this blog. Hopefully you manage to figure it out before you get there.
Last night, my phone buzzed. I half-woke and checked it, out of habit. You never know what’s going on late at night, after all. But when I looked, I saw it was a facebook message, assumed it was something random that I wouldn’t care about, and then proceeded to fall back asleep.
I’ve just dropped Boo off to school, and watched BabyDaddy read Strega Nona aloud to the class of three year olds. I’m settling down to eat some Toaster Strudel when I check facebook and see the message icon at the top. I’d forgotten all about it. But at this point, I’m awake, and I figure I might as well check it out.
Hm. I think to myself. I do not think I have a friend named Francis Pare on facebook. However, I think there is a hockey player by that name. I believe I met him once upon a six degrees.
I read the message. It’s a reply to a picture from way, way, way back when in September, that I had sent him on facebook. He showed up on my facebook (People you may or may not know) because I’m friends with two someones who had previously worked down at the arena. I creeped his profile, added him as a friend on a whim (assuming I’d be wong’d, another story for another time), then sent him the picture for the hell of it. Poof and I both looked cute that night after all.
So, I shot a reply to Francis Pare, which is actually the snippet of the message you can see there. And I wondered to myself…why on earth would he respond now?
…Then I went onto the blog…
I was all set to write an angry post about some goings on here in the life of L.A. Halfway through the blog, I realized it was too much for me to post, too much for me to share, or deal with, at least for right now. I might post it later on in life, but for now…moving on. Instead, I looked for a generic post I could write to keep our readers reading and the loving for us at a high.
Hockey post? Just did that.
Facebook rant? Been there, done that.
Amusing anecdote about winning? I have a big head.
Search term fun? …that could work…
I’m looking over the search terms for ridiculousness when I see it. Francis Pare. There he is again. How random. I head to Google. Seriously. The guy is a hockey player for the feeder team of [in my opinion] the best franchise in the NHL (Hi, Red Wings), and Google is sending searches to the triple threat blog? I mean, I think we’re fabulous, but this is a little weird.
Well, what do you know? If you Google Image search for Francis Pare, the blog comes up! We are in the top twenty images of Francis Pare. Which leads to conclude…
He’s googling himself. From that, he saw the picture, and found the blog. Remembered me from the picture and the consequential facebook stalking. And sent the message.
Mystery Solved. I win, Mr. Pare. Or else this is just jumping to conclusions and I just managed to distract myself for an hour with the interwebs.
In which case, really, I still win.
Update! In the period of time it took me to write and post this blog, someone else searched for this hockey player and found the blog. REALLY. That was quick, mystery searcher.