here.
Monday, March 12, 2012
good bye, hello.

This less than nifty gadget that has followed me around to places like Japan, China and Sydney, gone into drains, nooks and crannies to capture less than ideal photos of nimble kittens, provided entertainment for times of awkward silences… you have served me well.
For almost five years now, you have been with me. From the days I texted like crazy every minute of the day to a person who lived right next to me, to the days I put you into exile during hectic school terms, and back up the parabola to another mad phase of texting for committees and service and improved communication.
Despite only having 500 free texts every month, I am glad to have had you because you helped me track the number of messages I sent out. This is one random feature I miss on your successor. Because messages are now displayed by conversations, it is difficult to track the number of messages I have sent out. It tempts me to spam texts more. I do not know where the message log/counter is.
I also miss your useful warnings from a distance; those little blue blinking lights at the sides of you always told me that I had a text waiting for me to read. Now, I have to compulsively press the button every once in a while to check for messages.
It was the good ol’ days when cameras were all not too good, and your 2mp camera was good enough for me. You helped me preserve memories of friends, journeys to my first immersion trip and fieldtrips and outings. You satisfied my random urges to take photos at a whim, no matter how meager the quality was.
The video option was often neglected, yet the small number of videos I took and saved, each holds a special memory of a special time. One shows my cousin singing a song for me. One showed an awesome chocolate factory. Another showed a crazy hang out at a friend’s place. Another showed a hysterical commentary of us playing a game. I even tried to make you record some cats’ private moment.
You were there when I was lazy to take out my calculator. But somehow over the years, the calculator function vanished from the menu. It’s okay, though. You trained me to get out my calculator anyway. I wouldn’t have lived doing trigonometry using you.
One thing I liked to do with you was to play with your recording function, and you would parrot me whatever I said, sang, or played on the piano. I’m sorry, though, that your sound quality was a little too rusty for me to actually keep any of those. However, I do remember some random sound clips we did a long time ago. One of them became my message tone for a long time.
There are so many other things we did. The random cute pictures people sent me, you all happily stored, until age caught up with you and you corrupted a couple of them. You took note of my rants and writing compulsions. I used you to record song titles I hear for searching later.
You were always there when I needed somebody to talk to. Of course, I didn’t talk to you, but used you to call my favourite people.
Now, it is time for us to move on. I don’t know what my dad did to you but I’m sure you’ll continue to lead a fulfilling life serving other people. Meanwhile, I will remember you as the first one. Plus, there are many things in you that I didn’t/haven’t saved. Perhaps I should get you back for one last look.
Before I say a final goodbye.

[I’m pretty sure I’m more creative whenever holidays come. I come up with weird things like that. Oh my.]