Hi everyone!
I just wanted to let you know that I am neither dead nor in danger, nor have I forgotten you. I returned from Houston on Sunday evening, with every intention of updating you as soon as possible with the story about how the airline screwed up my flight. Unfortunately, I forgotten about the small issue wherein my laptop doesn't actually turn on or do anything right now. No problem, you might be thinking, you can just update at work, where you have access to the internet and you never do anything worthwhile anyway, right? Trust me, I had the same thought, but it turns out we've been working against a pretty tight deadline, and so I was actually productive at an unprecedented level this week. Add to that the fact that I've been spending my evenings preparing to move this weekend, and you have me here in my current situation: sitting in my office at 10:30 on a Thursday night, updating my blog for the first time in what must certainly be a decade.
NaBloPoMo indeed, am I right?
Oh well. At least now you can rest easy and stop bothering Scotland Yard about my whereabouts. Sherlock Holmes has more important things to do anyway, you know.
Showing posts with label nablopomo 11. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nablopomo 11. Show all posts
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Beach Round 2: Wherein Planning Continues Not to Be Our Strong Suit
I haven't posted this week, primarily because my days have been pretty boring. They go more or less like this: Woke up. Worked all day in pajamas. Ran and/or read awhile. Put on grown-up clothes. Ate dinner with Lee. Watched 2 old episodes of Hoarders on Netflix. Went to bed. Don't get me wrong, I'm enjoying myself. It just doesn't make for interesting reading. It occurs to me, however, that I didn't tell you about our big beach adventure last weekend, so I'll tell you now.
Before I begin, you may want to acquaint yourself with the story of our last big beach adventure, since this one was similar in some ways. Before I came to visit, Lee mentioned that he'd like to take a day trip out to Galveston (an island about an hour away) and hang out on the beach while I was here. Given our past experience with planning and executing trips to the beach, I was a little apprehensive. I pointed out that historically we have not been great planners or early risers, which could have a negative effect on our beach time. He assured me he would take care of it, and that everything would work out.
Friday Lee's uncle asked if we'd like to have dinner at his house Sunday night at 6. He said sure. It would cut into our day at the beach, but we'd just have to be a little more diligent about keeping track of time. No problem.
Sunday morning we woke up at the early hour of 10:30. We got up and started getting dressed in our bathing suits. I packed a bag with the things we would need. I asked Lee if he had any sunscreen. He did not. Alright then. We'd just have to stop at Target on the way to Galveston.
"Do you have any beach towels?" I asked.
"Yes, this one here."
"You mean the one I just showered with?"
"Yes."
"It's damp."
"It will be fine."
"Ok, but what are you going to lie on?"
"This towel here."
"That 3-foot long bath towel?"
"Yes."
"You're over 6 feet tall."
"..."
"Never mind, we have to go to Target anyway, we'll buy beach towels there too."
At around 11:30, we set on our way to Target. Suddenly, Lee remembered he needed to stop at the computer store to buy memory for his coworker's computer. No problem, the computer store is right next to Target. We ran our respective errands, and were back on the road at about 12:15, towels and memory in hand. Lee was glancing anxiously at the memory he'd just bought.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"I'm worried about leaving this memory in the car all day."
"... Ok, you can stop by the office."
"I didn't say anything about that."
"I know. I'm just saying, it will make you feel better to take it to the office, so if you want to I'm telling you that I don't mind."
Thirty minutes later, we were back on the road again. The hour-long drive out to Galveston went smoothly and soon we were on the island, driving past charming old homes side-by-side and buildings that had been nearly demolished by hurricanes. We went through several lights until Lee muttered, "I think I was supposed to turn there..." We kept driving as I pulled out my phone and started trying to figure out where we were.
"The map says this road is going to dead-end soon, and then there will be a smaller road off to the right, which will also eventually dead end. You might want to turn around?" I look up and the road is in fact dead-ending, with a police car at the end of it, facing us. Most of the cars in front of us are turning right onto the smaller road. Lee stops next to the cop car.
"Excuse me, is there public beach access down this way?" The cop looks stone-cold serious. "Yes." he says precisely.
Lee pauses for a second, waiting, and then turns right when the cop doesn't say anything else. Once he's in the rear-view, we both burst out laughing.
Although the road was basically one lane and looked kind of run-down, it did in fact end in a public beach access. Even better, it was gloriously uncrowded. (We later learned from Lee's uncle that we were on what is considered the less desirable end of the island, whatever that means. As far as I'm concerned, the most desirable beaches are the ones where you can spit without hitting someone.) We got in, parked, and set up on the beach between a Latino family listening to Spanish radio, and three college girls drinking Bud light. (Now that I think about it, I guess I know exactly what "less desirable" means to some people.)
We spent about 25 minutes getting sunscreen-ed up. At this point, it was about 2 pm. I lay back to start the sun-roasting process while Lee scampered out to the water. The sun was high and bright. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky for it to sneak behind, not like the treacherous North Carolina sun had done to me on the beach 2 years ago. The water was calm and warm and quietly lapping at the fine, soft sand. Life was good.
Whenever the sun started to make me feel a bit too much like a rotisserie chicken, I rolled over onto my other side. Back to front. Front to back. After a few rotations, Lee returned from the water and laid down to dry. After a few more rotations, he asked me to check the time. 3:15. "We'll have to leave soon. We need to get back and cleaned up for dinner." Fifteen minutes later, he declared it time to leave. My glorious time in the sun (about 2 hours, to be exact) was over. We shook out our brand new towels and headed to the car.
As the beach receded behind us, I relaxed in my sun-warmed seat and gazed happily out the window. "Remember," Lee said, "if my uncle asks, we have to tell him we got up early and spent the whole day out here. I don't want him to know we drove all the way out just to spend 2 hours on the beach."
We're clearly not qualified to be responsible adults, but at least we know how to have a good time.
Before I begin, you may want to acquaint yourself with the story of our last big beach adventure, since this one was similar in some ways. Before I came to visit, Lee mentioned that he'd like to take a day trip out to Galveston (an island about an hour away) and hang out on the beach while I was here. Given our past experience with planning and executing trips to the beach, I was a little apprehensive. I pointed out that historically we have not been great planners or early risers, which could have a negative effect on our beach time. He assured me he would take care of it, and that everything would work out.
Friday Lee's uncle asked if we'd like to have dinner at his house Sunday night at 6. He said sure. It would cut into our day at the beach, but we'd just have to be a little more diligent about keeping track of time. No problem.
Sunday morning we woke up at the early hour of 10:30. We got up and started getting dressed in our bathing suits. I packed a bag with the things we would need. I asked Lee if he had any sunscreen. He did not. Alright then. We'd just have to stop at Target on the way to Galveston.
"Do you have any beach towels?" I asked.
"Yes, this one here."
"You mean the one I just showered with?"
"Yes."
"It's damp."
"It will be fine."
"Ok, but what are you going to lie on?"
"This towel here."
"That 3-foot long bath towel?"
"Yes."
"You're over 6 feet tall."
"..."
"Never mind, we have to go to Target anyway, we'll buy beach towels there too."
At around 11:30, we set on our way to Target. Suddenly, Lee remembered he needed to stop at the computer store to buy memory for his coworker's computer. No problem, the computer store is right next to Target. We ran our respective errands, and were back on the road at about 12:15, towels and memory in hand. Lee was glancing anxiously at the memory he'd just bought.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"I'm worried about leaving this memory in the car all day."
"... Ok, you can stop by the office."
"I didn't say anything about that."
"I know. I'm just saying, it will make you feel better to take it to the office, so if you want to I'm telling you that I don't mind."
Thirty minutes later, we were back on the road again. The hour-long drive out to Galveston went smoothly and soon we were on the island, driving past charming old homes side-by-side and buildings that had been nearly demolished by hurricanes. We went through several lights until Lee muttered, "I think I was supposed to turn there..." We kept driving as I pulled out my phone and started trying to figure out where we were.
"The map says this road is going to dead-end soon, and then there will be a smaller road off to the right, which will also eventually dead end. You might want to turn around?" I look up and the road is in fact dead-ending, with a police car at the end of it, facing us. Most of the cars in front of us are turning right onto the smaller road. Lee stops next to the cop car.
"Excuse me, is there public beach access down this way?" The cop looks stone-cold serious. "Yes." he says precisely.
Lee pauses for a second, waiting, and then turns right when the cop doesn't say anything else. Once he's in the rear-view, we both burst out laughing.
Although the road was basically one lane and looked kind of run-down, it did in fact end in a public beach access. Even better, it was gloriously uncrowded. (We later learned from Lee's uncle that we were on what is considered the less desirable end of the island, whatever that means. As far as I'm concerned, the most desirable beaches are the ones where you can spit without hitting someone.) We got in, parked, and set up on the beach between a Latino family listening to Spanish radio, and three college girls drinking Bud light. (Now that I think about it, I guess I know exactly what "less desirable" means to some people.)
We spent about 25 minutes getting sunscreen-ed up. At this point, it was about 2 pm. I lay back to start the sun-roasting process while Lee scampered out to the water. The sun was high and bright. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky for it to sneak behind, not like the treacherous North Carolina sun had done to me on the beach 2 years ago. The water was calm and warm and quietly lapping at the fine, soft sand. Life was good.
Whenever the sun started to make me feel a bit too much like a rotisserie chicken, I rolled over onto my other side. Back to front. Front to back. After a few rotations, Lee returned from the water and laid down to dry. After a few more rotations, he asked me to check the time. 3:15. "We'll have to leave soon. We need to get back and cleaned up for dinner." Fifteen minutes later, he declared it time to leave. My glorious time in the sun (about 2 hours, to be exact) was over. We shook out our brand new towels and headed to the car.
As the beach receded behind us, I relaxed in my sun-warmed seat and gazed happily out the window. "Remember," Lee said, "if my uncle asks, we have to tell him we got up early and spent the whole day out here. I don't want him to know we drove all the way out just to spend 2 hours on the beach."
We're clearly not qualified to be responsible adults, but at least we know how to have a good time.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
I'm Just Going to Dork Out Here for a Moment
Expelliarmus, and whatnot! I've just returned from seeing HP7 Part 2! (Or, the final Harry Potter film, for those of you who aren't into abbreviations.)
Not only did I just experience cinematic history, but I got to do so at the Alamo Drafthouse! Or, at least, the one in Houston. I guess the original is in Austin. If you are unfamiliar with the Alamo Drafthouse, as I was until recently, let me tell you a few things about why it is wonderful. For one, they are very serious about not allowing talking and texting and obnoxiousness during the movie. This is nice, because it heightens your movie enjoyment, and protects you from the kind of people who think they are adding to your movie-going experience by yelling at the screen.
For two, they recently developed this pre-show ad to remind people of their serious silence policy (perhaps you've seen it floating around the internet?):
If you're somehow still not in love with this place, let me tell you this: they will bring you food and alcohol. To your seat. During the movie. It's true! I myself had green chile cheese french fries and 2 pints of cider*, all while enjoying the magic of Harry Potter. I swear, it's almost enough to make you want to move to Texas.
Almost.
Anyway, Harry Potter was everything I hoped it would be, with the exception that I wish a little more had been made of the showdown between Mrs. Weasley and Bellatrix. I was most interested to see if they would include the nineteen-years-later epilogue, so I was really excited to find that they did. It was a little cheesy, particularly because some of the actors 'aged up' a little better than others, but it was still totally worth it. All in all, I'd say it was lovely and definitely worth seeing.
Although really, you were going to see / have seen it anyway, even if everyone had said it was awful, right? I mean, it's practically our civic duty, really.
In conclusion, let's just take a moment to celebrate Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood, the unsung (and unsettlingly sexy) heroes of the Harry Potter series.
Not only did I just experience cinematic history, but I got to do so at the Alamo Drafthouse! Or, at least, the one in Houston. I guess the original is in Austin. If you are unfamiliar with the Alamo Drafthouse, as I was until recently, let me tell you a few things about why it is wonderful. For one, they are very serious about not allowing talking and texting and obnoxiousness during the movie. This is nice, because it heightens your movie enjoyment, and protects you from the kind of people who think they are adding to your movie-going experience by yelling at the screen.
For two, they recently developed this pre-show ad to remind people of their serious silence policy (perhaps you've seen it floating around the internet?):
If you're somehow still not in love with this place, let me tell you this: they will bring you food and alcohol. To your seat. During the movie. It's true! I myself had green chile cheese french fries and 2 pints of cider*, all while enjoying the magic of Harry Potter. I swear, it's almost enough to make you want to move to Texas.
Almost.
Anyway, Harry Potter was everything I hoped it would be, with the exception that I wish a little more had been made of the showdown between Mrs. Weasley and Bellatrix. I was most interested to see if they would include the nineteen-years-later epilogue, so I was really excited to find that they did. It was a little cheesy, particularly because some of the actors 'aged up' a little better than others, but it was still totally worth it. All in all, I'd say it was lovely and definitely worth seeing.
Although really, you were going to see / have seen it anyway, even if everyone had said it was awful, right? I mean, it's practically our civic duty, really.
In conclusion, let's just take a moment to celebrate Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood, the unsung (and unsettlingly sexy) heroes of the Harry Potter series.
Aaaaawwww yeah.
*I feel obligated to let you know that for some reason they forgot to bring Lee his food, so we had to flag the waiter down during the show (very risky given the no talking policy!) to remind him. I think we were probably the exception though because it seemed like everyone else was getting their food promptly, and once we let him know it took care of it post haste. Seriously, go to the Alamo Drafthouse! And take me with you!
Friday, July 15, 2011
Netflix and Milkshakes, What More Do We Need?
Since I've missed another day, I guess we might as well let go of the pretense that I'm going to post every day this month. So, uh... welcome to NaBloPoMo 2.0, wherein I post most days in July!
I don't really have an excuse for not posting, but I will tell you that last night I made hamburgers for the first time ever, so clearly that occupied a good deal of my time and concentration. They included ground beef, garlic powder, salt, pepper, and most importantly, shredded mozzerella cheese. They were effing delicious. Since we don't have easy access to a grill here at Lee's place, I had to cook them in pan on the stove, but I'd say they turned out pretty well anyway. I would have taken a picture to share with you, but I was too busy eating them and drinking beer.
Today I didn't accomplish much of note, but I did finally try to run again. I went 4 very slow miles on the treadmill, and I didn't die. My right hamstring is still bothering me, but I think I'll survive. Depending on how I feel, I might make another attempt at running 7 miles on Sunday. Cross your fingers for me!
Tonight I'm trying to see how many different un-Lee things I can talk Lee into watching on Netflix. Thus far I've succeeded in getting him to watch (and more or less enjoy) comedy specials by Craig Ferguson and Janeane Garafalo, and the first episode of the 1980s Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy miniseries. (I should confess that I failed to sell him on the merits of Toddlers & Tiaras*.) (SO FAR.) To top it all off, I think we're going to go get milkshakes soon!
That's really all I have to share with you so far, but there are some fun things coming up this weekend, so I should have stories for you later.
*For now, I leave you with this:
I don't really have an excuse for not posting, but I will tell you that last night I made hamburgers for the first time ever, so clearly that occupied a good deal of my time and concentration. They included ground beef, garlic powder, salt, pepper, and most importantly, shredded mozzerella cheese. They were effing delicious. Since we don't have easy access to a grill here at Lee's place, I had to cook them in pan on the stove, but I'd say they turned out pretty well anyway. I would have taken a picture to share with you, but I was too busy eating them and drinking beer.
Today I didn't accomplish much of note, but I did finally try to run again. I went 4 very slow miles on the treadmill, and I didn't die. My right hamstring is still bothering me, but I think I'll survive. Depending on how I feel, I might make another attempt at running 7 miles on Sunday. Cross your fingers for me!
Tonight I'm trying to see how many different un-Lee things I can talk Lee into watching on Netflix. Thus far I've succeeded in getting him to watch (and more or less enjoy) comedy specials by Craig Ferguson and Janeane Garafalo, and the first episode of the 1980s Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy miniseries. (I should confess that I failed to sell him on the merits of Toddlers & Tiaras*.) (SO FAR.) To top it all off, I think we're going to go get milkshakes soon!
That's really all I have to share with you so far, but there are some fun things coming up this weekend, so I should have stories for you later.
*For now, I leave you with this:
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
An Assortment of Entertaining Gibberish
Are you familiar with Regretsy? If not, you really should be, as it's a treasure trove of entertainment. For instance, yesterday April, who runs the site, posted this about how Regretsy is apparently ranked higher in Finland than it is in the United States. Since I was supposed to be working, I read all the comments on that post, and as a result I learned a great deal about Finland today. For example, the Finns have a great appreciation for all kinds of music, be it Queen by way of polka...
or Metallica by way of cellos (sorry, embedding is disabled on that one)...
or a simple heavy metal celebration of vodka:
Even when you're the only one who can hear the music you make, there's a place for you in Finland:
(I particularly like that guy because he looks kind of like a Dwarf from Middle Earth, in the best possible way.)
Speaking of things that are musical and wonderful, here's this!
Now, to round out this loose collection of things that amuse me, allow me to repeat something that made me laugh for about 10 minutes straight tonight:
"Every morning, pigeons wake up and they put on a hat and tie and they go off to the pidgery to pidge all day. Just pigeons, pidgin' around."
I would try to explain it, but there really is no explanation. Aaand that's all I have for you tonight! Check back tomorrow, when I'll attempt to make some sense for a change.
or Metallica by way of cellos (sorry, embedding is disabled on that one)...
or a simple heavy metal celebration of vodka:
Even when you're the only one who can hear the music you make, there's a place for you in Finland:
(I particularly like that guy because he looks kind of like a Dwarf from Middle Earth, in the best possible way.)
Speaking of things that are musical and wonderful, here's this!
Now, to round out this loose collection of things that amuse me, allow me to repeat something that made me laugh for about 10 minutes straight tonight:
"Every morning, pigeons wake up and they put on a hat and tie and they go off to the pidgery to pidge all day. Just pigeons, pidgin' around."
I would try to explain it, but there really is no explanation. Aaand that's all I have for you tonight! Check back tomorrow, when I'll attempt to make some sense for a change.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
I Probably Should Have Just Taken a Nap Instead
Well it looks like I owe you all another apology, since I failed to post again yesterday. I waited until late in the evening to try to write something, and the electricity chose that time to start going in and out. Lee was worried about the computer getting hurt by all the excitement, so we shut it down. Good for the computer, bad for my commitment to non-stop blog domination. Oh well. Here we are today, and we all survived my absence, it seems.
Between not writing a post last night and the fact that I accomplished very little "work" today, I'm feeling kind of like a useless bum. It doesn't help that I haven't run since my doomed attempt Sunday night. Last week, I ran several times on the treadmill in the little fitness center here in Lee's apartment complex. I was working on being speedier, and it seemed to be going well, except for the part where I think I pulled my right hamstring. It was sort of bothering me over the weekend, and then when I tried to run on Sunday it was really more of a shambling jog. Granted, a shambling jog isn't that unusual for me during the end of a long run, but this was happening during the first mile, when I usually feel like a cheetah, soooo... probably not a good sign. Just FYI, here are few other things I had working against me on Sunday night:
1) It's July in Houston.
2) Even at 7pm, it was in the mid-90s
3) ... with almost 80% humidity.
4) The sidewalks around here, even in Lee's relatively nice neighborhood, are poorly maintained and pretty wonky. Sometimes you're running at a weird angle, and sometimes you're jumping over deep puddles that see to come out of nowhere, and pretty much all the time you're hopping and skipping and trying not to trip over the places where the concrete squares don't line up.
5) I had maybe only eaten two pop tarts and some nachos that day.
6) ... ok, I can't think of a number 6, but don't you think that's enough reasons?
I was trying to run 7 miles, and I'm pretty sure it would have been the first time I've run that far since I ran the half last year. The reason I was trying to run 7 miles was because I'm training to run the same race again this year. Did I tell you that? No? Well it's true. Anyway, because of all the forces (OF EVIL) working against me, I made it about 2.5 miles before I gave up and walked back home. Lame.
Since I compiled a list of ways in which Houston has sabotaged my running, I feel obligated to make a list of good things about running in Houston. (Because I am a force for justice and fairness in the world.) Here is my list:
1) There is usually a breeze, which is nice.
2) There are very few hills.
3) ... that's pretty much it. Check with me again in December and I'll see if I have more nice things to say.
I guess I'll try for 7 miles again next weekend, since I have to keep training or else I'll never win first place at the big race. Who knows? If I'm really lucky, maybe I'll drop dead of heat stroke!
Between not writing a post last night and the fact that I accomplished very little "work" today, I'm feeling kind of like a useless bum. It doesn't help that I haven't run since my doomed attempt Sunday night. Last week, I ran several times on the treadmill in the little fitness center here in Lee's apartment complex. I was working on being speedier, and it seemed to be going well, except for the part where I think I pulled my right hamstring. It was sort of bothering me over the weekend, and then when I tried to run on Sunday it was really more of a shambling jog. Granted, a shambling jog isn't that unusual for me during the end of a long run, but this was happening during the first mile, when I usually feel like a cheetah, soooo... probably not a good sign. Just FYI, here are few other things I had working against me on Sunday night:
1) It's July in Houston.
2) Even at 7pm, it was in the mid-90s
3) ... with almost 80% humidity.
4) The sidewalks around here, even in Lee's relatively nice neighborhood, are poorly maintained and pretty wonky. Sometimes you're running at a weird angle, and sometimes you're jumping over deep puddles that see to come out of nowhere, and pretty much all the time you're hopping and skipping and trying not to trip over the places where the concrete squares don't line up.
5) I had maybe only eaten two pop tarts and some nachos that day.
6) ... ok, I can't think of a number 6, but don't you think that's enough reasons?
I was trying to run 7 miles, and I'm pretty sure it would have been the first time I've run that far since I ran the half last year. The reason I was trying to run 7 miles was because I'm training to run the same race again this year. Did I tell you that? No? Well it's true. Anyway, because of all the forces (OF EVIL) working against me, I made it about 2.5 miles before I gave up and walked back home. Lame.
Since I compiled a list of ways in which Houston has sabotaged my running, I feel obligated to make a list of good things about running in Houston. (Because I am a force for justice and fairness in the world.) Here is my list:
1) There is usually a breeze, which is nice.
2) There are very few hills.
3) ... that's pretty much it. Check with me again in December and I'll see if I have more nice things to say.
I guess I'll try for 7 miles again next weekend, since I have to keep training or else I'll never win first place at the big race. Who knows? If I'm really lucky, maybe I'll drop dead of heat stroke!
Sunday, July 10, 2011
It's More Difficult Than You'd Imagine to Be This Lazy
Today I chose to continue my winning streak by devoting yet another day to sitting around doing nothing. Last night after I finished blogging we busted out the vodka and Coke (for Lee) and cranberry juice (for me (btw, DO NOT buy Splenda-sweetened diet cranberry juice, trust me)), and I forced Lee to sit down and watch 500 Days of Summer with me. I'm not normally a huge fan of romantic comedies, but I really enjoyed this one, so it went on my list of Things to Share with Lee Next Time We're Together. I'm pretty sure we both have these lists, and I think they're probably mostly populated with things in which the other person is not typically interested. For Lee, it's things like romantic movies; for me, it's movies about terrorism. Nevertheless, I think one of the best parts of being in a relationship (romantic or otherwise) is being exposed to things you wouldn't normally seek out, and being able to gain an appreciation for them by seeing them through someone else's eyes. There. That's my overly sappy way of justifying my tendency to force my boyfriend to watch things he doesn't care about.
What was my point, anyway? Oh right: vodka and movies. After 500 Days of Summer, we watched a few more things on Netflix, so we didn't get to sleep until the wee hours of the morning. Between the alcohol and staying up so late, I had no choice but to sleep away half the day. After that, I sat around watching old episodes of Hoarders on Netflix while Lee surfed the internet. Finally, around 4:30, we got it together well enough to do something really productive: go to the movies!
We saw Super 8, and it was sooo good. In addition to a pretty entertaining storyline, it had such a gorgeous aesthetic and well-developed point of view that it almost felt like an instant classic. I would definitely recommend it, particularly to fans of Fringe, E.T., and movies that tell adult stories from the perspectives of children.
After the movie, I attempted to run 7 miles in Houston in July, but I think that's a story I'll save for tomorrow. Spoiler alert: I didn't make it. And to celebrate, I'm going eat some spaghetti. It's basically reverse carb-loading, but I don't recommend it. It's only for very advanced runners like myself, trust me.
What was my point, anyway? Oh right: vodka and movies. After 500 Days of Summer, we watched a few more things on Netflix, so we didn't get to sleep until the wee hours of the morning. Between the alcohol and staying up so late, I had no choice but to sleep away half the day. After that, I sat around watching old episodes of Hoarders on Netflix while Lee surfed the internet. Finally, around 4:30, we got it together well enough to do something really productive: go to the movies!
We saw Super 8, and it was sooo good. In addition to a pretty entertaining storyline, it had such a gorgeous aesthetic and well-developed point of view that it almost felt like an instant classic. I would definitely recommend it, particularly to fans of Fringe, E.T., and movies that tell adult stories from the perspectives of children.
After the movie, I attempted to run 7 miles in Houston in July, but I think that's a story I'll save for tomorrow. Spoiler alert: I didn't make it. And to celebrate, I'm going eat some spaghetti. It's basically reverse carb-loading, but I don't recommend it. It's only for very advanced runners like myself, trust me.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Oooh, Shiny
Alright kids, it's late, so I'll make this quick. Today I spent a nice lazy Saturday with Lee, which was easy to take for granted when we lived in the same state, but which feels like a special treat now that we live so far apart. He introduced me to his usual solo Saturday routine, which basically consists of checking out the local coin shops and then eating junk food for lunch. (Maybe next weekend I can show him my usual Saturday - sleeping in, lunch at Panera, surfing the internet, running, and reading.)
Lee collects coins, hence the frequent visits to coin shops. I'm pretty sure I'd be terrible at collecting coins, because my primary basis for evaluating currency is as follows: Is it pretty? If so, I would like it, please. While Lee looked patiently (also not one of my strengths) through boxes of individually packaged coins, I flipped through albums of paper money that was all nearly worthless (except, you know, as currency worth its face value). Although I think that our monochromatic U.S. currency looks much more official than currency from other countries (because I guess in my mind, legitimate government stuff = pretty boring), most other countries are kicking our asses in terms of the artistic merit of their bills. I was particularly impressed with the bills I saw from Zambia:
I really like the fact that they have smiling people on their money. Think how much happier you'd be if your dollar bills smiled at you instead of scowling at you, probably thinking about the old days when white men were the winners and everybody else had to shut up and like it.
I was also a fan of the francs from 1940s France, which look like little works of Renaissance art you get to carry around in your pocket.
Perdonez-moi, would you like to visit the Louvre this afternoon? No thanks, I thought I'd just sit around admiring whatever I can find in my wallet.
While I can't say I fully comprehend the appeal of paying $6 for a coin whose value is quite literally only 50 cents (not that I know anyone who did that today, ahem), I guess I can understand the desire to collect pretty, shiny things, whatever they may be. Who knows? Maybe I'll start up a collection of my own: low-denomination bills from countries with poor exchange rates and an artistic eye.
Lee collects coins, hence the frequent visits to coin shops. I'm pretty sure I'd be terrible at collecting coins, because my primary basis for evaluating currency is as follows: Is it pretty? If so, I would like it, please. While Lee looked patiently (also not one of my strengths) through boxes of individually packaged coins, I flipped through albums of paper money that was all nearly worthless (except, you know, as currency worth its face value). Although I think that our monochromatic U.S. currency looks much more official than currency from other countries (because I guess in my mind, legitimate government stuff = pretty boring), most other countries are kicking our asses in terms of the artistic merit of their bills. I was particularly impressed with the bills I saw from Zambia:
I really like the fact that they have smiling people on their money. Think how much happier you'd be if your dollar bills smiled at you instead of scowling at you, probably thinking about the old days when white men were the winners and everybody else had to shut up and like it.I was also a fan of the francs from 1940s France, which look like little works of Renaissance art you get to carry around in your pocket.
Perdonez-moi, would you like to visit the Louvre this afternoon? No thanks, I thought I'd just sit around admiring whatever I can find in my wallet. While I can't say I fully comprehend the appeal of paying $6 for a coin whose value is quite literally only 50 cents (not that I know anyone who did that today, ahem), I guess I can understand the desire to collect pretty, shiny things, whatever they may be. Who knows? Maybe I'll start up a collection of my own: low-denomination bills from countries with poor exchange rates and an artistic eye.
Friday, July 8, 2011
San Antonio is Nice, Even on 4 Hours of Sleep
One thing I've noticed during the time I've spent in Texas is that there are more state flags displayed here than in any other state I've ever visited. Is it because the flag is so iconic? Is it because Texans want to make sure that visitors remember to associate all of their excellent experiences with Texas? Or is it because Texans are afraid they'll forget what state they live in? (Just kidding, Texans! Keep reading, please!)
I had a lot of time to reflect on these things during our adventure yesterday, which featured (in addition to waking up at 4:30 am) roughly nine hours of riding in the car. I may have been flying by at 70 miles an hour for most of it, but I did get to see a nice swath of Texas yesterday. At least, the parts by the highway, anyhow.
First we woke up and got coffee and biscuits at Whataburger, which is a fast food chain here in Texas that Lee somehow pronounces in a way that makes it sound like "Waterburger!" I don't know, I can't figure it out. The coffee was a condition of my cooperation that morning. The biscuits were just a bonus. Then we drove for almost 4 hours to a small town where Lee had some lawyering to do. Going in the courthouse kind of stresses me out because there's a security guard and a metal detector, and a lot of people who either look out of place and depressed, or who are wearing suits and talking lawyer-shop. I know all of this from the last time I went with Lee on one of these trips, so this time I elected to stay in the car and read. It was still early in the morning and I had a massive 700-page book with me (The Dark Tower, if anyone wants to discuss it with me (PLEASE DISCUSS IT WITH ME)), so it was pretty enjoyable except for the fact that the sun, and the temperature, were quickly rising. By the time Lee came back to the car I was sweaty and ready to hit the road.
Step two was a two-hour drive to San Antonio, during which we passed through Austin. Hi, Austin! Bye, Austin! Perhaps I'll get to visit you someday. Lee had more lawyer business to attend to, so this time I sat on a bench in the hallway and read. Good times. After that, we were finally done with all Lee's responsibilities and free to wander around the city a little. We had lunch at an awesome German deli called Schilo's, which I would definitely recommend. I had a turkey, pastrami, and salami sub, and some delicious hot German potato salad. Lee had chicken and dumplings, I think. I spent a good part of the afternoon testing my iphone's camera so I could have taken a picture of the food for you, but I was too busy eating it.
After that we walked up and down the River Walk, which was gorgeous. It's below street-level and beautifully landscaped with fountains and flowers, and even if it weren't it would have been worth it for how much cooler it was than the sidewalk. Unfortunately, we didn't get to dawdle for too long because we had to get the rental car back by 6, but I guess it was for the best because I wore some slightly uncomfortable flip flops and I was ready to sit down anyway. Regarding San Antonio, I have to say I was a pretty big fan of what little I saw of it. It has a lot of charm and personality that I feel like some other cities (ahem, Houston) are lacking a bit. If you ever decide to visit, take me with you, because I'd like to spend more than 3 hours there next time.
The final leg of our trip was the 4 hour ride back to Houston, which was a little difficult considering how tired we both were. There was one exciting point where I nodded off for a few minutes, and then suddenly woke up. "Are you awake?" I asked Lee, to which he horrifyingly replied, "Mostly". I asked him to expand upon that, and he told me he had fallen asleep at the wheel for a minute or two. After that, I turned on the radio and made a point of talking a lot.
Luckily, we got back safely and everybody took refreshing naps and lived to fight another day. Next time, I'll describe the 2 hours I once spent in a Baltimore airport.
I had a lot of time to reflect on these things during our adventure yesterday, which featured (in addition to waking up at 4:30 am) roughly nine hours of riding in the car. I may have been flying by at 70 miles an hour for most of it, but I did get to see a nice swath of Texas yesterday. At least, the parts by the highway, anyhow.
First we woke up and got coffee and biscuits at Whataburger, which is a fast food chain here in Texas that Lee somehow pronounces in a way that makes it sound like "Waterburger!" I don't know, I can't figure it out. The coffee was a condition of my cooperation that morning. The biscuits were just a bonus. Then we drove for almost 4 hours to a small town where Lee had some lawyering to do. Going in the courthouse kind of stresses me out because there's a security guard and a metal detector, and a lot of people who either look out of place and depressed, or who are wearing suits and talking lawyer-shop. I know all of this from the last time I went with Lee on one of these trips, so this time I elected to stay in the car and read. It was still early in the morning and I had a massive 700-page book with me (The Dark Tower, if anyone wants to discuss it with me (PLEASE DISCUSS IT WITH ME)), so it was pretty enjoyable except for the fact that the sun, and the temperature, were quickly rising. By the time Lee came back to the car I was sweaty and ready to hit the road.
Step two was a two-hour drive to San Antonio, during which we passed through Austin. Hi, Austin! Bye, Austin! Perhaps I'll get to visit you someday. Lee had more lawyer business to attend to, so this time I sat on a bench in the hallway and read. Good times. After that, we were finally done with all Lee's responsibilities and free to wander around the city a little. We had lunch at an awesome German deli called Schilo's, which I would definitely recommend. I had a turkey, pastrami, and salami sub, and some delicious hot German potato salad. Lee had chicken and dumplings, I think. I spent a good part of the afternoon testing my iphone's camera so I could have taken a picture of the food for you, but I was too busy eating it.
After that we walked up and down the River Walk, which was gorgeous. It's below street-level and beautifully landscaped with fountains and flowers, and even if it weren't it would have been worth it for how much cooler it was than the sidewalk. Unfortunately, we didn't get to dawdle for too long because we had to get the rental car back by 6, but I guess it was for the best because I wore some slightly uncomfortable flip flops and I was ready to sit down anyway. Regarding San Antonio, I have to say I was a pretty big fan of what little I saw of it. It has a lot of charm and personality that I feel like some other cities (ahem, Houston) are lacking a bit. If you ever decide to visit, take me with you, because I'd like to spend more than 3 hours there next time.
The final leg of our trip was the 4 hour ride back to Houston, which was a little difficult considering how tired we both were. There was one exciting point where I nodded off for a few minutes, and then suddenly woke up. "Are you awake?" I asked Lee, to which he horrifyingly replied, "Mostly". I asked him to expand upon that, and he told me he had fallen asleep at the wheel for a minute or two. After that, I turned on the radio and made a point of talking a lot.
Luckily, we got back safely and everybody took refreshing naps and lived to fight another day. Next time, I'll describe the 2 hours I once spent in a Baltimore airport.
Fourth on the Floor
Today I had a hectic day riding around Texas with Lee on some work errands. It was actually pretty enjoyable if you don't count the part where we had to get up at 4:30 in the morning. 4:30 in the morning is not generally a time of day I enjoy, as you might imagine, but I'm a trooper so I got through it ok. All that is to say, even though it's late I haven't forgotten about you, and if you're good boys and girls I might even have some pictures of Texas to show you later.
But that's not what we're here to talk about! Instead I want to tell you about my Fourth of July. My main goal for this year's Fourth was to make it as much fun as last year's, which featured a 4 mile race in the morning and a picnic and fireworks in the evening. The first half of that equation was definitely a success. H, the friend I ran with last year, decided not to run it with me this year, so I was a little worried beforehand that I wouldn't have anyone to stand around and talk to before and after the race. Getting up and dressed at 6:45 that morning was kind of lonely, but once I got to the actual race I ran into a girl from work, and some other people I knew from the training program I was doing before I hurt my foot. I really shouldn't have been surprised - it's not like I live in a huge city, so of course I would know at least some of the other runners at a popular local race. But like I always say, if you can't assume the worst, you're not trying hard enough.
The actual running part of the race was fun, although I forgot that the last mile is mostly uphill. The weather was really nice, in the 70s. Since I usually sleep as late as possible and do my running in the evenings, I forget how nice and cool it is in the mornings. Every time I run an early morning race I think I should start running first thing in the morning, but then later I remember how much that sucks, so I don't. I ran a little faster this year, cutting 2 minutes off my total time. My only goal for the race was "run it faster than last time", so I was pleased. That being said, I did the math and I'm pretty sure I still would have had to cut 16 minutes off my time in order to place third in my age group. I totally could have taken the 60-65 age group, though. If I keep running and getting faster and the playing field keeps leveling as I age, I figure I should hit a sweet spot when I'm about 50. So check in 25-ish years from now, when I'll be a real contender. Even though I didn't technically win anything, all the runners got sweet pint glasses with the Four on the Fourth logo on them. (I took a picture of mine, but then my laptop stopped cooperating, and I didn't bring my camera cord with me to Lee's.)
After the race I desperately wanted a nap, but instead I had to run a bunch of errands. Last year's picnic-and-fireworks deal was mostly orchestrated by my friend H, who did all the planning and cooking and driving and et cetera. This year, I was the one who really wanted to go, so I felt like it was my responsibility to make sure we had everything we needed. My friend E and I had figured out ahead of time what we were going to make, and split up the duties. I was to make a pasta salad and buy more juice-box wine, and E was going to get us some delicious North Carolina barbecue and make cookies. So, instead of a nap I went grocery shopping and made up a pasta salad recipe on the fly.
(Here is where I would insert the beautiful pictures I took of the food, if it were possible for me to download them. Sad trombone.)
The pasta salad turned out to be pretty delicious, if I do say so myself, and I should really post the recipe on here sometime. After my success in the kitchen, though, things started to kind of go downhill. First, one of my friends changed her mind and said she wasn't going to be able to come along to the fireworks after all. Oh, and also that she couldn't give me the ride to the airport she had promised me. So I drove, discouraged but not defeated, to pick up my friend E from her place. Unfortunately, when I got there she told me she hadn't put the cookies in the oven yet, so we'd have to wait at least 20 minutes, but probably more because her boyfriend was going to join us and he was driving from a neighboring city. While I sat waiting, worrying about how I was going to get to the airport the next day, and how we were going to find parking at the fireworks, I heard the first thunderclap. Ten minutes later, there was a full-on downpour happening outside.
I was pretty bummed to see my dreams of a lovely explosive-lit outdoor meal slipping away, but I guess at that point I already begun to see the writing on the wall. Besides, trying to recreate the magic of last year's festivities had been a fool's game anyway. E's boyfriend arrived about the time I made my peace with the death of my fantasy Fourth, and at that point we came up with plan B: eat our picnic on the living room floor, drink a lot of wine, and play cards. It wasn't what I'd planned, but of course it turned out to be delightful.
Even though it rained and I didn't get to see anything blow up, the Fourth of July has been pretty good to me for 2 years running now. I've never thought of it as a top-10 event, but depending on how next year goes, it just might become my third-favorite holiday (after Christmas and Halloween, obviously).
But that's not what we're here to talk about! Instead I want to tell you about my Fourth of July. My main goal for this year's Fourth was to make it as much fun as last year's, which featured a 4 mile race in the morning and a picnic and fireworks in the evening. The first half of that equation was definitely a success. H, the friend I ran with last year, decided not to run it with me this year, so I was a little worried beforehand that I wouldn't have anyone to stand around and talk to before and after the race. Getting up and dressed at 6:45 that morning was kind of lonely, but once I got to the actual race I ran into a girl from work, and some other people I knew from the training program I was doing before I hurt my foot. I really shouldn't have been surprised - it's not like I live in a huge city, so of course I would know at least some of the other runners at a popular local race. But like I always say, if you can't assume the worst, you're not trying hard enough.
The actual running part of the race was fun, although I forgot that the last mile is mostly uphill. The weather was really nice, in the 70s. Since I usually sleep as late as possible and do my running in the evenings, I forget how nice and cool it is in the mornings. Every time I run an early morning race I think I should start running first thing in the morning, but then later I remember how much that sucks, so I don't. I ran a little faster this year, cutting 2 minutes off my total time. My only goal for the race was "run it faster than last time", so I was pleased. That being said, I did the math and I'm pretty sure I still would have had to cut 16 minutes off my time in order to place third in my age group. I totally could have taken the 60-65 age group, though. If I keep running and getting faster and the playing field keeps leveling as I age, I figure I should hit a sweet spot when I'm about 50. So check in 25-ish years from now, when I'll be a real contender. Even though I didn't technically win anything, all the runners got sweet pint glasses with the Four on the Fourth logo on them. (I took a picture of mine, but then my laptop stopped cooperating, and I didn't bring my camera cord with me to Lee's.)
After the race I desperately wanted a nap, but instead I had to run a bunch of errands. Last year's picnic-and-fireworks deal was mostly orchestrated by my friend H, who did all the planning and cooking and driving and et cetera. This year, I was the one who really wanted to go, so I felt like it was my responsibility to make sure we had everything we needed. My friend E and I had figured out ahead of time what we were going to make, and split up the duties. I was to make a pasta salad and buy more juice-box wine, and E was going to get us some delicious North Carolina barbecue and make cookies. So, instead of a nap I went grocery shopping and made up a pasta salad recipe on the fly.
(Here is where I would insert the beautiful pictures I took of the food, if it were possible for me to download them. Sad trombone.)
The pasta salad turned out to be pretty delicious, if I do say so myself, and I should really post the recipe on here sometime. After my success in the kitchen, though, things started to kind of go downhill. First, one of my friends changed her mind and said she wasn't going to be able to come along to the fireworks after all. Oh, and also that she couldn't give me the ride to the airport she had promised me. So I drove, discouraged but not defeated, to pick up my friend E from her place. Unfortunately, when I got there she told me she hadn't put the cookies in the oven yet, so we'd have to wait at least 20 minutes, but probably more because her boyfriend was going to join us and he was driving from a neighboring city. While I sat waiting, worrying about how I was going to get to the airport the next day, and how we were going to find parking at the fireworks, I heard the first thunderclap. Ten minutes later, there was a full-on downpour happening outside.
I was pretty bummed to see my dreams of a lovely explosive-lit outdoor meal slipping away, but I guess at that point I already begun to see the writing on the wall. Besides, trying to recreate the magic of last year's festivities had been a fool's game anyway. E's boyfriend arrived about the time I made my peace with the death of my fantasy Fourth, and at that point we came up with plan B: eat our picnic on the living room floor, drink a lot of wine, and play cards. It wasn't what I'd planned, but of course it turned out to be delightful.
Even though it rained and I didn't get to see anything blow up, the Fourth of July has been pretty good to me for 2 years running now. I've never thought of it as a top-10 event, but depending on how next year goes, it just might become my third-favorite holiday (after Christmas and Halloween, obviously).
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Apologetic Placeholder
Guys! Only 6 days into July and I've already failed to post for 2 days in a row! How could this happen?
I'll tell you how it happened: the gods are clearly against me. I know this, because not only did they foil my attempts to post for the past 2 days, but they also stymied my fireworks-watching plan on the 4th of July. But all of that is a story that will be told soon enough.
For now, just know that the only reason I wasn't faithful to my commitment is because my laptop has stopped working. Or rather, I think it works fine, but the screen has elected to no longer show me what is going on in there, save for occasional flashes. It has become an enigma to me, more like a magic eight ball than a personal computing device. I would have gone to work to post on my computer there (because I am just. that. dedicated.), but on the 4th I was incredibly busy having lots of fun, and then yesterday was equally hectic because I was preparing to fly, then flying, then sleeping.
So! Here I am now, safely in Houston, with access to a computer and considerable free time (at least, whenever my boss isn't asking me to do work or whatever). I plan to give you more exciting details on recent events either later today or tomorrow. Huzzah!
I'll tell you how it happened: the gods are clearly against me. I know this, because not only did they foil my attempts to post for the past 2 days, but they also stymied my fireworks-watching plan on the 4th of July. But all of that is a story that will be told soon enough.
For now, just know that the only reason I wasn't faithful to my commitment is because my laptop has stopped working. Or rather, I think it works fine, but the screen has elected to no longer show me what is going on in there, save for occasional flashes. It has become an enigma to me, more like a magic eight ball than a personal computing device. I would have gone to work to post on my computer there (because I am just. that. dedicated.), but on the 4th I was incredibly busy having lots of fun, and then yesterday was equally hectic because I was preparing to fly, then flying, then sleeping.
So! Here I am now, safely in Houston, with access to a computer and considerable free time (at least, whenever my boss isn't asking me to do work or whatever). I plan to give you more exciting details on recent events either later today or tomorrow. Huzzah!
Sunday, July 3, 2011
I Imagine it Only Gets Worse if You Have Children
Over the last several weeks, I've argued with both my Dad and my Mom. (One argument apiece, because I love them equally.) It's not my favorite thing to do.
Arguing with my parents is unpleasant for a variety of reasons. For example, there's the reminder that they can be just as flawed and infuriating as any other human being, and the unsettling realization that they might not like everything about me, either. The biggest problem I have with it, thought, is the unexpected empathy I feel.
When I argue with my parents, it often becomes something like an out-of-body experience. At first, I'm just trying to win, making my point as clearly and emphatically as I can. After awhile, though, my Mom or my Dad will say something that sounds eerily familiar, and suddenly I'm floating away and watching the whole thing from the outside. I start to identify with my parent, and - DAMMIT - even empathize with them. We're too much alike, so even when I think they're wrong, I can understand exactly how they came to their (totally incorrect) standpoint. We've got the same kinds of crazy, so of course I understand perfectly how it works.
Then I'll hear myself responding with outrage, and my perspective splits again. I find myself identifying with everyone who's ever had the misfortune of arguing with me. I'm not saying every argument I've ever been in was due to my inherited instability. (Or even that all of my crazy was inherited. Some of this was home-grown, you know.) It's just that when I'm on the receiving side of it, I intensely regret all the times I've acted that way to other people.
In short, I hate arguing with my parents because it's the best possible way to be reminded that not only did I inherit many of their virtues, I also inherited a lot of their faults. Plus, it's creepy hearing your own nutjob logic come out of someone else's mouth, and then wondering how many times in the past you've used it on people who might have actually had a good point. Basically, arguing with your parents is a great way to spend the next month or so questioning your individuality and biting your tongue.
Arguing with my parents is unpleasant for a variety of reasons. For example, there's the reminder that they can be just as flawed and infuriating as any other human being, and the unsettling realization that they might not like everything about me, either. The biggest problem I have with it, thought, is the unexpected empathy I feel.
When I argue with my parents, it often becomes something like an out-of-body experience. At first, I'm just trying to win, making my point as clearly and emphatically as I can. After awhile, though, my Mom or my Dad will say something that sounds eerily familiar, and suddenly I'm floating away and watching the whole thing from the outside. I start to identify with my parent, and - DAMMIT - even empathize with them. We're too much alike, so even when I think they're wrong, I can understand exactly how they came to their (totally incorrect) standpoint. We've got the same kinds of crazy, so of course I understand perfectly how it works.
Then I'll hear myself responding with outrage, and my perspective splits again. I find myself identifying with everyone who's ever had the misfortune of arguing with me. I'm not saying every argument I've ever been in was due to my inherited instability. (Or even that all of my crazy was inherited. Some of this was home-grown, you know.) It's just that when I'm on the receiving side of it, I intensely regret all the times I've acted that way to other people.
In short, I hate arguing with my parents because it's the best possible way to be reminded that not only did I inherit many of their virtues, I also inherited a lot of their faults. Plus, it's creepy hearing your own nutjob logic come out of someone else's mouth, and then wondering how many times in the past you've used it on people who might have actually had a good point. Basically, arguing with your parents is a great way to spend the next month or so questioning your individuality and biting your tongue.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
I'm Not Gonna Lie, I Think I Already Have a Repetitive Motion Injury
About a month ago I was walking across campus to get myself something for lunch when the sky opened up and started dumping water on me. I had my little pocket umbrella with me, but by the time I got back to the office, my feet were sliding around in my sandals and my skirt was soaked through.
A few days later, my cell phone suddenly realized it had been exposed to a great deal of moisture, and started turning itself off and on, over and over. And over. This unexpected new feature made it so that I couldn't actually place any calls, but the worst part was the fact that it vibrated at length every time it turned on and off. So I took the battery out, which solved the problem of the irritating vibrating, but didn't make it any easier to, you know, actually use the thing.
My uncle was kind enough to let me borrow his old phone for a few weeks while I worked on securing a new one of my own, but it's weird using someone else's phone. There were phone numbers and photos and things on there that I had to just... work around. It was kind of like carrying someone else's old wallet and having to keep all of their old cards and receipts, mixed in with your precious possessions.
Anyway, I spent several weeks debating about what kind of phone I wanted next. How much was I willing to pay? Was I ready to make the jump to a smartphone? Could I afford a monthly data plan? I'm hugely indecisive so I spent a lot of time reading reviews and comparing phones, but finally I made a decision: I found a well-reviewed Android-based smartphone that was on sale for $50 (with a 2-year contract, of course). I walked authoritatively in the store, I told the sales guy which phone I wanted and asked if they had the same deal in the store that I had seen on the internet. He said yes, and took me to the display phone. Just as I was getting used to the feel of it in my hand and familiarizing myself with the menus, he says, "You know, the iphone 3GS is also on sale for $50."
Well, shit.
So, even though I did research for 2 and a half weeks in order to avoid this very scenario, I spent the next hour or two trying to decide between the two phones. It literally hadn't even occurred to me to buy an iphone, because I don't really think of myself as one of the Apple Faithful. As a result, I had to ask a million questions about it and spend lots of time starting at it. It was a trying time for everyone involved, I'm sure. At long last, I made decision, paid, and left feeling much older in years but much richer in phone. So here I am tonight, hanging out with my new phone:
Really, the worst part about the whole experience was having to sign that paper promising to act like I'm better than everyone else from now on.
You win this one, Apple. But my laptop is still an HP.
A few days later, my cell phone suddenly realized it had been exposed to a great deal of moisture, and started turning itself off and on, over and over. And over. This unexpected new feature made it so that I couldn't actually place any calls, but the worst part was the fact that it vibrated at length every time it turned on and off. So I took the battery out, which solved the problem of the irritating vibrating, but didn't make it any easier to, you know, actually use the thing.
My uncle was kind enough to let me borrow his old phone for a few weeks while I worked on securing a new one of my own, but it's weird using someone else's phone. There were phone numbers and photos and things on there that I had to just... work around. It was kind of like carrying someone else's old wallet and having to keep all of their old cards and receipts, mixed in with your precious possessions.
Anyway, I spent several weeks debating about what kind of phone I wanted next. How much was I willing to pay? Was I ready to make the jump to a smartphone? Could I afford a monthly data plan? I'm hugely indecisive so I spent a lot of time reading reviews and comparing phones, but finally I made a decision: I found a well-reviewed Android-based smartphone that was on sale for $50 (with a 2-year contract, of course). I walked authoritatively in the store, I told the sales guy which phone I wanted and asked if they had the same deal in the store that I had seen on the internet. He said yes, and took me to the display phone. Just as I was getting used to the feel of it in my hand and familiarizing myself with the menus, he says, "You know, the iphone 3GS is also on sale for $50."
Well, shit.
So, even though I did research for 2 and a half weeks in order to avoid this very scenario, I spent the next hour or two trying to decide between the two phones. It literally hadn't even occurred to me to buy an iphone, because I don't really think of myself as one of the Apple Faithful. As a result, I had to ask a million questions about it and spend lots of time starting at it. It was a trying time for everyone involved, I'm sure. At long last, I made decision, paid, and left feeling much older in years but much richer in phone. So here I am tonight, hanging out with my new phone:
Really, the worst part about the whole experience was having to sign that paper promising to act like I'm better than everyone else from now on.
You win this one, Apple. But my laptop is still an HP.
Friday, July 1, 2011
Hooray?
Hello there! I know you've all been waiting anxiously for the day when I would get my shit together and write a new post to replace the depressing one I wrote last time. Great news: that day is today!
Bad news: this post is going to be terrible. But that's ok! Some post is better than no post, that's what I always say! (Starting today, that is.)
AND! Not only am I posting today, but I will be posting every day in July! Or, at least, until I forget and/or get bored. The primary obstacle I generally face to regular posting is that work time is the best time to blog, but I share my office with my supervisor, which makes it difficult to do things unobserved. Luckily, I'll be spending a good chunk of July working remotely from Lee's place, and I think you know what that means. Working in my pajamas! Blogging all day long! Watching movies in the background! Thus, I'll be free to participate in NaBloPoMo this month, with only about a 20% risk of forgetting to post and disappointing my hundred and hundreds of readers.
Anyway, if we're going to be talking every day, it's only fair that I update you on what's been going on with my life, so you'll understand what I'm talking about. Here are some highlights...
1. I ran the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure for the second time. It was even more fun than last time, and I beat my record. Granted, last year I had hardly even been running for a month, but still - a record is a record.
2. I have been reading a lot.
Ok, that's pretty much it. I mean, there are other things, but they require photos and detail and if I tell you everything now, what will talk about for the rest of the month??
Bad news: this post is going to be terrible. But that's ok! Some post is better than no post, that's what I always say! (Starting today, that is.)
AND! Not only am I posting today, but I will be posting every day in July! Or, at least, until I forget and/or get bored. The primary obstacle I generally face to regular posting is that work time is the best time to blog, but I share my office with my supervisor, which makes it difficult to do things unobserved. Luckily, I'll be spending a good chunk of July working remotely from Lee's place, and I think you know what that means. Working in my pajamas! Blogging all day long! Watching movies in the background! Thus, I'll be free to participate in NaBloPoMo this month, with only about a 20% risk of forgetting to post and disappointing my hundred and hundreds of readers.
Anyway, if we're going to be talking every day, it's only fair that I update you on what's been going on with my life, so you'll understand what I'm talking about. Here are some highlights...
1. I ran the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure for the second time. It was even more fun than last time, and I beat my record. Granted, last year I had hardly even been running for a month, but still - a record is a record.
2. I have been reading a lot.
Ok, that's pretty much it. I mean, there are other things, but they require photos and detail and if I tell you everything now, what will talk about for the rest of the month??
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