XO-LP // Laura Palmer

A Love Letter History.

Back in 1999.

Dear 28,
I'm sitting here at Steuben's sipping a bacon bloody mary (don't worry I'm on vacation so a lunchtime drink is ok) and I don't have a functioning cell phone. I realized late last night that while I remembered to pack two library books, a curling iron (which will likely go unused) and my running shoes (which I have to use, a 5k is less than 10 days away), I failed to pack a blackberry charger.
This photo could have been taken anywhere. but I'm at Steubens. I promise.
In 1999 I didn't have a cell phone. Actually in 2001 I didn't have a cell phone. We would leave the movies in middle school and when it was time for a ride home we'd stand outside Whitey's Ice Cream, where we spent all of our extra money on Mississippi Mud, and use the pay phone to call collect home. And then, when it would ask you to state your name, Becca would say "Mom it's Becca come pick us up." Much like this commercial. Now I can call you anytime I want. I'm not sure I know anyone's number by heart, unless I learned it pre-2001 (I can call my parents, Becca's parents, the Eagles, and the greatest pizza place in Iowa- Salvatores.) So here I am, in Denver, without a way to contact the outside world (other than to email on the Macbook I'm currently typing on. So that's really not true. I'm blogging for anyone to read. I just can't call anyone.) I'm sort of embarrassed to say it's frustrating. I can't send Emily a picture of myself in front of the graffiti I just walked by that said "Smarty!" with stars around it. I can't text Becca asking what time she'll be home. And I can't LIVE TWEET my vacation. (be disappointed. so far I've had lots of hilarious things to say)
Without a cell phone pictures get weird.
Instead I'm listening to the dude next to me, a guy from Chicago wearing a Vikings tshirt, tell his lunch date he has met the keyboardist from the Steve Miller Band, that he appreciated the use of giardiniera on his "weird" cheesesteak, and ask lots of questions about what Guy Fieri ate while he was at Stueben's. His favorite movie is Good Will Hunting. The waiter, also from Chicago, and I had a long conversation about brine and why pickles and olives taste so gross. Without a cell phone to distract me, I can notice so much more about what's happening. So this is how aware of my surroundings I used to be? (I just heard a man in the kitchen use a Julia Child voice to announce an order.)
After all that overhearing, I'm tired.
While being phoneless is frustrating, it's oddly freeing. No one knows where I am or what I am doing. And this nap I'm about to take will go uninterrupted. I think I'll enjoy watching cable television for awhile. (Phoneless vacation is kind of wonderful.)