My black Verizon Samsung cell phone has been through a lot of near-death experiences.

I've dropped it in a pool, down four flights of bleachers at Beaver Stadium and on tile floors hard enough to break metal into pieces. I've used it in the rain, snow and other elements that could have easily wreaked havoc on it. It was the Keith Richards of cell phones: No matter what it went through, it survived.

So it came as a surprise that what nearly separated me from my cell phone could be as trivial as leaving it on a table at Fresh Express in East Halls.

What's even more bizarre is the fact that I did not realize it was missing for four hours, during which time I was happily unaware of the major meltdown I was to later have. When I discovered my cell phone was gone, I felt as though I had lost all control.

After some persistence with the Findlay Commons front desk and some aid from a good friend (you know who you are), I had it back within 20 hours.

The whole ordeal made me realize that cell phones are taken for granted in our everyday lives. I was always a skeptic of technology and hated everyone's dependence on cell phones. However, it took almost losing mine to realize that I have become one of those people.

Before the 1970s, there were no cell phones or e-mail. People relied on land lines and (gasp!) letters.

Cell phones are currently a requirement for existence, as much an extension of our body as fingers and toes.

I had overlooked the fact that every phone number is recorded in my phone. Without it, I can only tell you numbers I've memorized (home phone and 911).

Before the mobile phone, people used to record phone numbers in a phone book (hence the name). I never recorded mine. Every number could have disappeared, and I would have been fated to join one of the countless Facebook.com groups like "broken phone," "need your numbers" or the aptly-named "I dropped my phone in the toilet..."

Some simple pleasures that come with cell phones were momentarily stripped away. I love the witty text messages that make me laugh in the middle of class. Every time someone calls I hear my favorite song, Strawberry Alarm Clock's "Incense and Peppermints." It is those little quirks that make my day a little bit better.

Cell phones also help facilitate relationships. Because of my cell phone, I have a better relationship with my mom than ever before. I call her two (or five) times a day. Without those calls, I am rendered incapable of communicating with faraway friends and family.

With the cell phone playing so many invaluable roles in today's society, it should soon be physically impossible to lose it. Just as the cell phone has been a landmark development in the post-1970s world, maybe the next technological breakthrough will implant a phone in my hand.

Alexa Santoro is an enterprise reporter for The Daily Collegian and a freshman majoring in journalism and French. Her e-mail address is ajs5336@psu.edu.