i am now convinced that ALL smoke alarms conspire against us to begin their dead-battery-chirps between 1 and 3 AM EST. my last honest attempt for meaningful sleep this week has been thwarted. i think that was my last 9 volt battery. I awoke with the word zoocylantropic on the brain. it’s funny what my mind remembers on waking, like original music and such. since i still remember i decided to capture it first and then google it later.

i decide to share with you the private PS3-release-like mania i am experiencing waiting for the Cingular 8525. I have been tracking this phone on Engadget, Engadget Mobile (same thing, really) and Howardforums since at maybe August, joining in the almost daily speculation and wading through the rumors of when it would be made available. My BlackFridayBirthdayChristmas was yesterday, the “official” corporate release date. I have no need for this device as I do have functional phone. but like the Evel Knievel action figure (see my 48th problem) that eludes me to this day…I gots to have it. and i know when i get it, the feeling will quickly subside and evaporate like morning mist, and I’ll get bored with it and probably break it in a few months. but for right now, i gots to have it.

the wake up call that i might have a problem was when i called the same Cingular store again as the day before (i lost track, i’d called a few) to see if they did indeed have it on release day. the female voice with a vaguely Hispanic accent on the other end asked my name and I hesitated, because it would reveal me as a cellphone stalker. I couldn’t come up with a deceitful response quickly enough and told her, as I had 26 hours before. and she said “Stephen, you called yesterday, right? yeah, we’ll call you when it comes in”, with slightly amused exasperation in her voice.

i took the liberty of ordering a 1 GB Micro SD memory card beforehand. it came yesterday. this format is an evolutionary jump over the Mini SD card that is in my current phone. it’s about the size of my pinkie fingernail. that’s pretty damn small. and it reminded me of this teacher we had back in high school, a doughy middleaged man with a Slavic accent who told us repeatedly about the time he was in the KGB and bit down on an olive and chipped his tooth on a miniature listening device. i remember wondering how he ended up in St. Thomas and thinking he was too much of a blabbermouth to be a spy and that soon they’d catch up with him.

going to try to go back to sleep.