On "It's Me!"

I got a cell phone for Christmas. As cliché and cheesy as getting a cell phone sounds, getting the phone was a direct result of scary events involving the massive blizzard that hit Colorado and left Chris wondering where I was for eight hours. I and the rest of the bus were rescued by
1. the National Guard and then by
2. Broomfield police.

Dramatic, scary, cold, odd and I learned that in an emergency situation, I still will not sleep in a public restroom (unlike some others on my bus).

My cell phone number was not virgin. As in: it belonged to someone before me. Not long after getting my first little cell phone, I got a call that went like this:
Erin: "Hello?"
?: "Hi! It's me."
Erin: "Me, who?"
?: "It's me."
Erin: "Me, who?" (I had to reply in italics to match his)
?: "ME!"
Erin: "There are a billion me's in the world. Which me are you?"
?: "Dude, it's me!"
Erin: "This is Erin Christensen. Who the hell are you?"
?: "Oh...I've got the wrong number."
Erin: "Yeah, you do."
? hangs up.

Yeah, I hate the "It's ME!" game. Chris pointed out that it hints at a terribly co-dependant relationship which assumes you and your partner only speak to one another and therefore it could only be you calling. Sad.

An Erinku:
Sweet
potato fries
are way
overrated.