Friday I attempted to move my cell service to a line in my name. I’d already called AT&T to find out if my contract was up and what I had to do. “Just go to the nearest store,” sounded easy enough.

Then I got there with my son and realized I hadn’t brought any coloring books or games to keep him occupied while I actually did the business of transferring the line. I took my iPod nano with Septimus Heap on audiobook inside thinking I was a genius of resources.

Then we waited for 20 minutes to be served, so Cavanaugh played demo games on the iPhones. Finally called to the customer service desk, I was informed that Mike had to call to give permission for me to move my phone and get my own line. He wasn’t available for that, so we had to leave the store.

I complained about it while we were at our friend Anna’s Toy Depot and another customer said, “It’s actually called ‘divorcing accounts.’”

As if it’s not hard enough to have to divide up cell phones and move contracts around or get the right name on the internet provider.

So, Saturday, I went to a different AT&T location to buy the 3rd generation iPhone. I reasoned that I’d never had a smart phone before so didn’t need the latest release. But they didn’t have any in stock.

So I asked what the difference was between the old and new generation phones: faster processing, 5 megapixel camera, HD video camera, double the memory, etc. etc.

But, I don’t really need that, I thought. The difference in price was $100 for a two-year contract, $50 difference a year. Somehow, though, it being a bigger better phone and a decent price point wasn’t enough.

I began justifying wanting the iPhone 4. I bought my ex an HD flip video camera for his birthday last October to replace one he’d already bought and lost. Then we got him an iPhone in January (which included a video camera). Hundreds of dollars for all that stuff.

I deserved this, didn’t I? I should get to have things. He has things. Blah blah blah.

So I got the phone.

Here’s what I realized as I lay in bed last night. My sponsor has recommended that I have a love affair with myself before I consider any romantic involvement with others.

So, I thought about buying Mike the Flip camera and encouraging to upgrade from his barely-able-to-charge Blackberry to an iPhone. I researched them. I found what was the best product, the best deal, what I thought he’d really like.

Having a love affair with myself means doing for myself what I would do for someone I love.

Instead of going into comparisons or entitlement, I could have let myself excited about this cool new phone and proud that I was taking care of myself.

Plus, one guy in the store complimented my only visible tattoo.

Then the AT&T guy helping me, cute and in his early 20s (too young for me to do anything but be flattered), checked me out. Then he offered to call my number to show me how to answer my phone. If he were older, he might think to use the dialed calls to reach me later, but as it was he walked from behind the counter to give me my receipt, open the door for me, and check me out again.

I may not be ready for any love affairs with others, but I got the phone for myself and later realized it’s okay to gift myself the latest greatest phone–one that will let me Google why the wind blows when Cavanaugh asks, find myself instead of driving lost around Lubbock, or check email throughout the day rather than waiting till my son goes to bed.

It’s even okay to take something as painful as divorcing accounts and come out with the coolest new toy I’ve maybe ever had. Who knew?

Anyone have cool apps to recommend? Or your favorite part of having an iPhone (or other smart phone)?