In my last entry, I promised to post a funny story that I had written at home but couldn't post because I was having phone problems.

The funny story was actually about the phone line not working. My phone line is still not working. It's not that funny anymore.

Both of my roommates left town this weekend, leaving me alone in our massive apartment. Normally, this would ROCK, but with our phone line dead, it was very Scooby-Doo-we-have-a-mystery-on-our-hands, creepy.

For instance, I was walking around my apartment, and the phones were on their receivers but I could hear the diluted sounds of a phone of the hook. I would pick it up and it would be so loud it was piercing. "Christine," I shrieked in my mind. I ran around, unplugging all of the phones from the jacks and finally it stopped. But then I started to get freaked. Because I have sliding glass doors all over my apartment, including in my bedroom, and my mind was spinning with visions of nimble serial killers lowering themselves from the roof two floors above and slithering down ropes and into my apartment, where I roamed, vulnerable to torturous, sadistic attacks.

There was only one thing to do - get the hell out of dodge. So I hightailed it out of my apartment and went to see my favorite band. I came home when the sun was dawning and rested.

Well, technically, I went to the bodega on the corner, got behind the deli counter, made myself a turkey sammy, while some girls came in from the bar next door and stared at me in full-partygirl attire, behind the counter, making my own sammy's and asking the deli guys to pass me salt and pepper. And then I went home as the sun came up.

By Saturday night, I was just plain annoyed. I forgot that the phones were unplugged, and couldn't understand why, at 8:30PM, no one had called to see what I was doing. And then I remembered.

I had to run out to the payphone and make a round of calls. Everyone I reached told me they had been trying to call. I re-routed all calls to the Bodega on my corner. Then I alerted the Bodega guys.

Saturday night, a bunch of us decided to chill after a great dinner at our favorite sushi spot. We headed back to my place to hang out. Everyone slept over.

By Sunday, I had the brilliant idea of giving my friend one of my walkie-talkie's. She lives about 6 blocks away, so we did that and it worked perfectly. At least I had outside contact.

The roommates came home late-Sunday afternoon and couldn't believe I had been there alone for 4 days with no phone.

Then some friends came over. And we all sat around in the phoneless apartment, laughing over the recap of my weekend at the mercy of the phone Gods.

I felt very Gillian's Island, like in the TV movie when they all got rescued and came home to the ticker tape parade and other bruhaha and were overwhelmed.

And even after all of this, I still refuse to buy a cell phone.

But I was thinking about getting one of those two way pager thingy's.

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