I recently upgraded my water-damaged, dinged up iPhone 4s to a 5s. Honestly, it was NOT worth all of the money that I spent. Sure, it’s nice to have a bigger phone with more space and a better camera. But it’s just a reminder that I’ll have a more expensive bill and another 12 months to wait it out for an upgrade. The Independent Woman in me hates to admit it, but I really do miss the days when my parents paid my phone bill. I remember my foray into the land of cell phones like it was yesterday: Christmas Day, 2004. Daddio slapped a brick-heavy Nokia in my hand with STRICT instructions to only use it for emergencies.
Still, I felt SO grown. I finally had a phone of my own! I touted my first tellie for a good four years despite my friends upgrading to Sidekicks and Razrs. But it was mine. And no one really cared. It was about the silly details – and the novelty of having a phone – versus all the bells and whistles. Man, now I’m emotional. I might shoot off a chain text to my girls just for old times sake.