I’m going to miss you.

I now know what I should have known from the moment I first laid my marble eyes on you. Maybe I already knew but I didn’t want to admit that these things don’t last forever. Especially at this age. In fact, I’m always surprised when I hear anyone make it past the first year. And another thing is no matter how much you think you love somebody, you’ll step back when the pool of their blood edges up too close. I’m not going to lie, people do ask about you. I always give them mixed reviews. It’s not that I do not, or did not, love you. It’s not about that at all. Please don’t taint our memories — think about all the great conversations we shared. Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.

As you probably guessed from the epilogue, almost 14 months after its honorable introduction, I have phased out my thin and slick African-American Motorola Razr in favor of the new, full-featured (albeit bulky) Cingular 8525 smartphone. The Razr and I will always have cherished memories. Our long road-trip up the Pacific coast. Our first days together at Microsoft. Our adventures in house hunting. Life will be different. But alas, all good things must come to an end.

The 8525 brings a whole new dimension and power of productivity into the palm of my hand. I get corporate email, synchronized calendar and tasks, and a slew of other mumbo-jumbo buzzwords like BlueTooth and WiFi. It has a nice, easy-to-read large screen, expansive microSD slot, and runs Windows Mobile 5.0. Represent. All in all, it’s going to be the staple of my young corporate career. The pitch is that I’m going to be more organized, more connected and more efficient with my knowledge work. Of course, stated that way, it’s easy to rationalize the steep price-tag. After all, I am the digerati. If not me, then who? I predict that, as with all new toys, I’ll use it heavily for the first six months then start throwing it around when I am intoxicated or angry in hopes of having to buy a new one. Captialism. You can’t fight it.

Although most of my studious readers will think that I just wasted six minutes of their life — which they will never get back — rambling on about a piece of geeky gadgetry; there is a lot more to this entry than getting a new phone. It represents a major paradigm shift in my life. It’s almost a coming-of-age story for a young twenty-two year old boy. A boy who traded in his college wardrobe, his college gadgets and his college priorities for a meager chance at corporate yuppihood. Stay tuned.

Adieu. Navid.