I'm very unhappy to announce that I now have a phone that works. I've waited over a year to switch my old phone over to a new one; a coworker gave me this phone in, oh, 2005, and I did nothing with it. It sat at my desk in the office for many moons. After much procrastination, I found myself in an LG Telecom office this afternoon with my buddies Tom and Jang-woong, and the three of us got the phone taken care of.
There are two reasons why I didn't get the phone switched over right away, and these reasons will give you some insight into my character.
First: I hate cell phones and see no reason to have one. I'm not a Luddite, but I am an introvert. I have a cell phone only because one was foisted on me in 2002 by my Korean buddy as soon as I arrived in Korea. "It's modern society, man!" he told me. "You need a cell phone!" But I don't like being found. It's a bit like Lindsay Lohan and her ankle bracelet: I feel as though you can track me no matter where I am. That's not a good feeling.
Second: I hate the fact that I'm unable to make the cell phone switch on my own. I tried it once; the dude told me that, as a foreigner, I would need my Korean companion to do the honors. As a guy nearing 40, I find this extremely degrading, so as a simple matter of pride (I may blog about my shitting habits and my split pants, but I do have my pride), I didn't want to enter the LG office with my buddy to do the deed. That state of affairs obtained for over a year.
In any case, I've got a phone now. It works just fine. You can send me text messages and other obnoxious shit. This phone has a camera, which I might start using, though I'm not really into moblogging.
Grudging thanks to my homeys for helping out with the changeover.