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January 16, 2003: Chasing

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I have this cell phone. This nifty little silver cell phone that fits neatly into the palm of my hand; flips open when I need it to, and sings just like a doorbell (but with a catchy beat behind the notes) when it rings. I got it about a month ago, when we switched to Sprint PCS (whose service is such that I can actually make calls on this thing in my home. Such a novel concept).

Prior to switching, I never really got that many calls on my cell phone. We mainly got cell phones because we were both so busy and wanted to be able to get a hold of each other. In fact, I actively avoided giving out the cell phone number, mainly because I didn't want people always calling me on that phone when I was trying to do something like work, or drive.

I've given out my new number to a few more people, mainly because with Benthic Creatures, we all sort of require mobile phones, and that's mainly how we all remain in contact when we're out at training sites. But I didn't expect to get too many calls until we went back on the road (which appears to be in about a week, but hey, schedules tend to change at the drop of a hat so who knows).

However, my phone has been busy. I get all sorts of calls. Problem is, they're not for me. Apparently a woman by the name of Pamela Jones had this number before me (or else she gave out the wrong number), and there are a number of people who want to speak to her with some urgency. This is, as I have discovered, because apparently she owes them money. I am basing this assumption on the fact that some of these people who call are payment recovery services.

It's actually been getting a little annoying, having the majority of calls to my phone be for someone I don't even know. But I'm slowly convincing some of the repeat callers that I really have no idea who the heck this person is. Whoever Pamela Jones is, I hope she can get her phone number straight next time she hands it out.

Every once in a while the call is actually for me, of course. Usually it's Richard, or a member of my family if we're all trying to hook up somewhere. But every once in a long while it's something else entirely, like the call that was waiting for me in my voicemail on Wednesday when I finished my platelet donation and was on the way home. There are things in motion right now in my life; things that I desperately want to have happen. And the phone call Wednesday was the catalyst for the beginning - a phone call that, among other things, resulted in me having a chance to meet my brother-in-law for lunch at a little diner in Berkeley. If nothing else, that was a good enough reason for the trip.

I know Iím being deliberately vague here and I apologize. I am simply crossing my fingers that I'll have good news to report soon. If only wishing as hard as a person can might simply make something so. There are things I need; things I want. Sometimes wishes can come true. I'm just hoping that this is one of those times.

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