Celia Rose Smith
Hello readers, welcome to my column. For those of you who are strangers to my existence, my name is Celia Smith and I am the Assistant Editor-in-Chief and Opinion editor of Le Provocateur. I am a Virgo, a crucial fact if you’re on my level of daily horoscope reliance. I am also almost always exactly three minutes late, however I’ve noticed that this semester I have cut that time down to anywhere between 30 seconds and two minutes, an improvement I have attributed to no longer living on Worcester Hill. At any given moment, you can probably find me speed walking along the streets of Assumption College, dodging cars and looking frantic, Sony Walkman headphones and iPod touch in tow. Last year, that iPod touch would have been a Sony Walkman spinning one of my father-made mix tape cassettes, yet that form of 1980s vintage analog technology doesn’t seem to hold up very well under my care. I drop things a lot.
It is only three weeks into the semester and I have already had quite the adventure. Within the first two weeks, I managed to lose my iPod touch, one of my gold hoop earrings, two toe rings and my headphones. I was convinced that a bandit was breaking into our apartment and stealing these obscure items, but I am happy to report that I recovered every single one of them in my couch. As an added bonus, one of my roommates and I found two fidget spinners of unknown origin that also fell victim to 4B’s couch vortex.
My glasses have also disappeared, presumably at one of the bars we went to on my birthday. However, I’ve already accepted and mourned their loss. I have not yet given up hope on the recovery of my Juul though, as I haven’t really made any undying effort to actually look.
Of these items, my iPod touch hit me the hardest. We went through everything together. She went through the Avril Lavigne, the Dashboard Confessional (parts one and two), every single Now that’s What I Call Music! compilation from the year 2001 to 2008 and even that disturbing Taylor Swift phase we dare not speak of. She comforted me through iTunes playlists and handled the transition to Spotify seamlessly. She helped me cope with every single breakup and accompanied me to Europe twice. Over the years, she soaked up my mascara tears and fought through the consequential water damage with rice baths and makeup remover. I was heartbroken.
My dedication to my beloved iPod Touch 5th generation led me on a desperate two-hour hunt through Elm Park. She was gone. After exhausting my options for recovery, I thought to myself, “perhaps this is a sign.” Is the loss of my iPod symbolic? Is it time to move on? I knew what I had to do.
I logged onto eBay and ordered a replacement iPod in yellow. As I clicked the button for checkout, I felt liberated. In three to five business days, my life would be changed forever. A few days later, that email from the Post Office popped into my inbox right before closing. As I retrieved my package, opened the box and plugged in my headphones, I felt a new chapter in my life begin. I told myself that though I would miss my iPod and the moments we shared, that this was for the best. I could finally put the past behind me and start fresh. It was time.
Two days later, we turned over the couch to search for my gold hoop, flipped open a flap previously overlooked and there she was, my old friend, waiting.
Currently Playing: Pinegrove–“Old Friends.”
Celia Rose Smith, a senior, studies English and studio art. She is the Assistant Editor-In-Chief of Le Provocateur. Visit her website at theceliarose.com.