Hunt for the Red Cell Phone

Okay, it's a pathetic blog topic, but you probably already think I am a loser.

I lost my cell phone on Saturday. I was ticked. I hate losing things, especially when I have to pay for the things that I lose because I was careless. Rachel helped me look for 30 minutes, but I dislike when my irresponsibility affects others, so we headed our respective directions.

Sunday, after a night of thinking about my lost cell phone and where it could be, I strapped on my snowshoes and decided to hunt. I figured that if I didn't find the phone, at least I was getting some extra exercise. Thankfully, it has been too cold for either snow or meltage, so I was able to walk in our tracks from the day before. Plus, after my night of thinking, I had a couple of places that I wanted to look for specifically. I checked the first area with no luck, but I hadn't had high hopes because it was the same place Rachel and I had focused on the day before. I continued my exercise pausing along our tracks to see if there were any marks beside our snowshoes or dogs' prints. Sporadically I paused and using my mom's cell phone called mine to see if I might hear it somehow (note: the vibe then ring mode sucks when you lose the phone). I got to my top place that I thought it would be, and there she was, just a quarter-size visible in the snow, waiting for rescue. With exuberance I called Rachel and screamed, "Guess what I am calling you on?" It was sheer exhilaration, catapulting me into a snowshoeing jog to my car. I know it is such a small thing to experience sadness and happiness about, but losing and finding the cell phone was representative of so much more, it was highly symbolic of my life in general.

Author's note: Alternate blog title - A Beautiful Day. I found my cell phone, it was a balmy 30 degrees - so hot and sunny that I drove home from my treasure hunt in a tank top, and my garage door opened when I pushed the button (he had refused to work for the last week because it was so cold here).