Hellomoto

Once again, I'm realizing how the simple (albeit time-consuming) act of transferring contact info from one phone to another can trigger nostalgia.

I've had my trusty Nokia 3530 (I'm not even sure that's the exact model) for four years now, and I would probably keep on using it if only it weren't begging for retirement. Calls have become a pain because the handset has developed a nasty habit of blocking out the sound from my end--so while all my callers hear silence, all I hear is a loud "Hello? Hello? Can you hear me? Hello?" Texting has also become quite a chore as the keys now hinder my speedy fingers, and keep me from indulging in one of my talents: the no-look text.

And so, H and I went phone shopping at Motorola. (For some reason, I was attracted to this brand in particular, even though the text messages don't have emoticons or even the typical smiley face. Hmph.) There was a beautiful Dolce and Gabbana model that momentarily mesmerized us and lured our Capricorn side, but we both knew I wouldn't go for it. While I was prepared to settle for a little phone that had all the basics, he eventually sold me on the idea of getting one that was 3G-enabled ("We could see each other while talking!"--a great selling point when you're in a pseudo-long-distance relationship like ours) and which had a two-megapixel camera (no more fretting about not having a cam whenever I try a new restaurant). I was choosing between a golden beauty that was sooo me, and a sleek, hot pink one which was a slightly older model but which came loaded with all the necessary (and not-so-necessary) accessories. It was the age-old battle between style and substance. But this is me we're talking about, so naturally, substance won out (although no one could accuse my tight little hot pink phone of lacking in style).

Since I got it though, I haven't been able to use it full time. There's that blasted chore of transferring all the contacts in my phone memory one by one. Since my old handset is a bit of a dinosaur phone by today's standards, synching isn't possible, so de mano was the only way to go. It's been nearly a week and I've gotten as far as the Qs. Thing is, I'm not all business when it comes to this. It's not just about reading and typing and double-checking that I got the right number--and even with this third step, I'm convinced I've made a few errors.

That a lot of time has passed and a lot of changes have taken place became more apparent as I read old nicknames and typed new surnames, decided which contacts were worth keeping and which could be erased from memory--both from my phone's and my own--forever, and remembered old friends fondly while struggling to recall who the hell some of these people were. Seeing a term of endearment on my old phone screen would take me back to the day that I came up with it, or the time I spent with that person--time that's seemingly so precious now, even though back then it was just another ordinary day. These are the Ngases and Melts and Bebs whom I've drifted away from, and whose company I miss.

There are also the new hyphenates--my now-married friends who have new last names that I'm not quite used to yet, but old last names that don't seem to fit anymore. There are places attached to names (e.g., carlos-US), making me wonder if they had a good day, if they're having a good life, if foreign soil is treating them well. There are old business contacts I probably have no need for ever again, names that are vaguely familiar, and names that I would rather forget but keep anyway because it's sometimes good to be reminded of how far you've come. And then there are the names that aren't there--people I lost touch with before celphones were a necessity, and when a blue-green pager was my constant companion. (It doesn't work anymore, but I still have it.)

I don't know if I'm subconsciously delaying this transfer of phone contacts. I guess I'm having a hard time getting rid of my old phone because part of me believes that phones are more than just objects. They kind of have a life of their own--they carry memories, give you messages, are portals through which you could hear a loved one's voice when you need it most. It's more than just the basic katamaran that comes with the task, and more than just getting all senti over an object I've had for years. It's saying goodbye to people and parts of my past which don't have a place in my life anymore. And goodbyes are never easy for me.