And it’s not to eat tostada pizzas all day long. Sadly, it’s not. Earlier today, I met up with Megan Crane to interview her for my website’s blog. I brought the recording equipment with me so we can hopefully run it as audio and not have to transcribe it. So we’re sitting at CPK, chowing down on our salad pizzas (tostada pizza YUM!) making small talk, just fine and dandy.
The waitress comes and clears away the plates and we set up the recorder and the mics. I through it on to do a test to make sure the controls are right and boom, we’re off! We’re talking, we’re laughing, we’re getting some really good, really casual, really breezy, quality stuff. Then I look down to get a time check and fuck a duck! I managed to re-pause the machine so nothing, and I mean NOTHING recorded!
Then, on the way out (here’s where I really go “what the fuck?”) I get into my car and realize that I can’t find my cell phone. Now obviously, I know I had it considering it rang mere seconds before we started the interview. So I tear apart my pockets and my backpack and then run back upstairs. Of course, it’s no where to be found. So I head back down to the car, check my backpack again, reach into a pocket that I already checked at least twice and there it was (boy am I grateful that it wasn’t gone).
So obviously, the Universe is trying to send me some sort of message through my cell phone. For those of you counting along, this is like the 4th time I’ve misplaced or forgotten my phone in less than a month. So what’s the message? Disconnect? Communicate by not speaking? Don’t talk on the phone any more? I have no idea, but it’s something. And I better figure it out before my phone disappears for good!
