What to Expect When You're Not Expecting

You know my phone got stolen, right?  


Say you: Seriously?  You're STILL harping on that?  
Say me: Yes.  Bitter, I am.  But there's a story so hang with me.  


I was fortunate enough to have not sold my old iPhone after I acquired my new one.  


And before I go any further, let's be clear here: Once one upgrades to a smart phone, there's simply no going back.  And once one becomes a member of the iPhone club, it's only a matter of time before they are a default member of the Apple cult.  In which no. Other. Phone. Will. Do. Period.  


Where was I? 


Oh, yeah.  My old iPhone.  His name was iFrank. I had been sitting on it for months after I purchased the 4.  I meant to put it up on eBay but was frankly just lazy about doing so.  Part of my laziness stemmed from the fact that I didn't think anyone would buy it.  It's a first generation.  It's slow.  It uses EDGE technology for data roaming, after all.  Meaning it's slow.  The camera is a 2 megapixel (the 4 has 5 megapixels, the 5 is rumored to have 8) with no flash, so the pictures aren't that great.  There's no video component. The GPS isn't a GPS at all, but some weird jerry-rigged cell phone tower locating software.  To add insult to injury, my incase for it had long since deteriorated and rendered itself useless:  

Taken with 2 megapixel iPhone First Gen. 

If I wanted to get all be-thankful-for-what-you-have about it, I was fortunate to have iFrank lying around.  I was fortunate I could walk around with a smart phone of any kind.  I was fortunate enough to be living in a country where such luxuries come with ease. 


Naturally that wasn't my initial take on the matter.  


For a solid week, I bitched. I moaned. I groaned. I complained. I whined. I compulsively searched the web for iPhone 5 release dates. Never mind that I could still check my email and play Words with Friends and waste time on Facebook and surf online and take Hipstamatic pictures and listen to podcasts and make notes for myself and remind myself of tasks via voice memo and text. Oh, I could also still you know, talk on the phone. But did I mention how SLOW it is?  It's really slow.  


Me, to The Geek: OhmiGod this phone is so slow. 
The Geek: Well, go out and buy another phone.  It's fine.  Just insure it this time. 


Later: 


Me: I can't even use the Stitcher Radio app!  The first gen doesn't support it.  ARGH!  
The Geek (reading, not looking up): Yeah, babe.  I'm sorry. 


Later: 


Me: My photo transfer app isn't supported by this archaic piece of crap either!  ARGH!!  
The Geek (completely ignoring me): Uh, huh. 


Later: 


Me: OhmiGOD.  Have I mentioned how fucking SLOW this phone is??? 
The Geek, thoroughly done with my angst: Then go out and buy another phone. I don't care.  Just insure it this time. 


Fast forward 13 days from the day my phone was stolen and one week from my daily my-life-sucks-I'm-forced-to-use-a-first-generation-iPhone-because-some-bastard-stole-my-superior-iPhone rants.  


I got called to work.  I get there and start trolling the parking lot for a reasonable place to park. Naturally there are none close to where I need to be. This greatly irritates me.  I'm running late and I need to get in the building and on the unit that requested my presence.  The answering service has already called me to warn the unit is looking for me and am I close to arrival? Clearly the world, and more specifically my place of employment, owes me a parking spot right next to the door I need for entry so I don't have to traipse a third of mile in heels and be later than I already am.  


I make another loop around the lot and then I see them.  Five unused parking places right in a row reserved for expectant mothers.

Huh.  


I suppose this is a new trend. I certainly don't remember there being special parking places reserved just for me and my belly back when I was pregnant.  When I was pregnant I had to hoof it across ten miles of parking spaces all the way to the mall and sometimes it was 121 degrees outside. And why should expectant mothers get their own parking place anyway?  They got themselves in that condition after all.  It's surely not MY fault they're all big and round and retaining water and miserable in their current state.  


My mind was churning.  I was late.  I needed to make an appearance quickly.  There were five unused parking spaces close to the door and I'm a woman who is still (technically) in her birthing years. No one was going to ask if I was actually pregnant because that would just be rude. I doubted anyone was even paying attention. Besides, I was pregnant not once but twice and as I said, I had to hoof it across 15 miles of asphalt in 128 degree temperatures and never did a parking lot offer me my own space. Ever.  


Screw it.  


I wasn't pregnant and I didn't care.  I parked in one of those spots and I was being so defiant about it that despite my hurry, I fished out my first generation iPhone with a 2 megapixel camera, lifted my arm high and took aim at that stupid, exclusive sign.  I was going to post it to Facebook, by God, and brag about how I was sticking it to The Man....


Say you: Weren't you technically sticking it to your pregnant sisters? 
Say me:  That's when I dropped the phone. 


Face down.  


On the cement.  


The sound was gut-wrenching. 


When I picked it up and turned it over, I was greeted with this:   

Click for a larger, more horrifying view.  

Oh, but it gets better!  Because not only did I destroy the protective glass over the screen, I damaged the actual screen.  Take a gander: 

You know you want this phone.

See all those gray lines going across it?  Turns out  iFrank doesn't take too kindly to being dropped on really hard surfaces.  


I think it's fair to say I got bitch-slapped by karma.  -> 

INC

Earth

-Posted using (enter requisite phrase which brags about your cool gadgets and applications for said gadget here)

Green Flop

I am the first to admit that getting pedicures is a complete luxury and totally superfluous.  That being said, I love them.  But as a general rule, I always try to wear my own open-toed shoes in so I can wear them out again, for the very reason pictured above.  Those goofy, temporary foam flip-flops are worthless, and the pedicure places distribute them like candy.  As you can see oftentimes, they don't make it further than the trashcan in the shop.  I've often wondered how many pair they burn through in a single business day.  I bet it's a scary number. -> 

midnight

I cannot tell a lie. I am an utter sucker for most Bath and Body Works products. (Plus in June everything goes on sale! Whee!) This shower cream stuff is completely frivolous but it's so, you know, creamy! And Sudsy! I realize I can get shaving cream for a buck at the Dollar General store for essentially the same experience. But then I would smell like a man. And not pomegranate. And what woman doesn't want to smell like pomegranate when she gets out of the tub? ->



-Posted using (enter requisite phrase which brags about your cool gadgets and applications for said gadget here)

Never Ending

This McMansion house has been in some stage of construction for the past two years. No kidding. I'm sure it will be imposing lovely when it's done. But right now it's a blight. ->





-Posted using (enter requisite phrase which brags about your cool gadgets and applications for said gadget here)

Turkish Delight

On display not far from the hotel. It will be a miracle if I get out of this city without buying some kind of jewelry. ->

Cabinet

 

The Geek doesn't know this yet, but there's some electrical work in the "new" old bathroom that he's going to have to attend to.  I simply cannot keep the old medicine cabinet you see.  It's old. And tiny.  And there's an electrical outlet installed right next to, which means it's simply in my way and therefore  must be relocated. 

In the meantime, I'm blithely shopping for replacement cabinets.  Lowes has some perfectly serviceable ones of course.  But I've recently (read: 48 hours ago) discovered Restoration Hardware and their products simply make me drool.  Of course, so do their price tags, so I may have to find something at Lowes after all.  

Or maybe I should forgo the cabinet and just go for a big mirror.  Small room + big mirror = optical-illusion-big-room, right?  

But then there's the storage issue.  

But I am getting a new sink cabinet built with drawers and whatnot, so maybe storage won't be as much of an issue now.  

But the kids are going to be using it, and one kid is a girl and girls generate a lot of bathroom stuff so the more storage the better, right?   

But The Boy is off to college before she'll hit the age where she really generates said stuff, so maybe the mirror after all.  

But what happens if he moves back in four years after graduation?  Then I need the storage again! 

What if he flunks out and is back home in a year???  

I need wine. 

And a medicine cabinet.

Or mirror?   ->  

Related articles

• Top Kitchen & Bathroom Trends at KBIS 2011 (apartmenttherapy.com)
• Tips on organizing the medicine cabinet (seattletimes.nwsource.com)

Bradley

So.  I've told my little tale about hospital gift shops before.  What I haven't done is taken pics from the highfalutin gift shop at one the hospitals where I work.  Brighton accessories.  Vera Bradley bags. Other stuff that I would like to name but frankly can't because I'm always distracted by the Brighton accessories and Vera Bradley bags.  Which, I must admit, are kind of fun*. Not that I've ever bought one.  I'm sort of a leather girl.  But still.   

At any rate, today was BUSY and I only had to time to run in there and get a quick shot before heading to the ER.  I've been planning on posting a shot of this particular wall for months.  Funny how something gets in your head and you just can't let it go. I was determined to get it today because I never know when I'm going to be on that side of the hospital. ->

*The Vera bags. Not the Brighton stuff.  Someone please shoot me if I ever spend $80 on a pair of sunglasses.  

Coach

Gadget, Book And Music. Oh My.

 

Spring cleaning lead me to finding my very first iPod lurking in the depths of one of Little Missy's Stuff Containers in her room this past weekend.  

Amazing, isn't it, how quickly Yesterday's Hottest Item becomes today's cast-offs?  

I loved my iPod mini (version 1.4.1, 4 G).  I named him iBob and we went everywhere together.  I even bought (yes, bought, not borrowed) a book about how wonderful said iPod was.  I was devastated when I went out of town once and convinced myself I left it in the hotel.  My husband, dear that he is, replaced it with a nano, but I found iBob the next day (it was in the suitcase.  Yes, I checked it.  Like, a dozen times) and returned the newer! flashier! model, which astounded the sales clerk.  

And then came iPhone.  

Just like that, my beloved mini was rendered obsolete and unceremoniously handed down to the progeny.  Who obviously forgot about it too.  

Poor thing.  

I charged it up yesterday.  It doesn't hold a charge for long now, and the click wheel is a bit persnickety, but it still works fine. I even have 1.3 gig of space left on it.  

Interesting, to go back through and check out music that was in high rotation four years ago.  And bonus! An album on the pod that's not in iTunes for some inexplicable reason.  Now if I can just transfer it....

Related articles

• Flip is Dead. MP3 Players, Point & Shoot Cameras Next? (news.dice.com)
• The Best iPod Touch Apps of All Time (brighthub.com)

Crackling nails

Little Missy is 9 today!  Blue fingernails are thus required. 


PS: I love this picture. -> 

News Feed

 

I posted this for my brother, who is 12 kinds of awesome because he bought me this little gizmo for my iPad.  Like Facebook paired with the iPad isn't dangerous enough, now I can really type!  

He's been on me since I started this project to put up a FB photo.  So, this is for you Stu.  Thanks again for my toy.  ->

Ugg

These boots are the bomb. 


Expensive?  Yes. Frivolous? Hell no.  Especially when there's two feet of snow on the ground. 


I won't post a bunch of snow pictures, because I think they're pretty boring for the most part.  Just trust me when I tell you that Oklahoma is, for all intents-and-purposes, the North Pole right now.  -> 

I Call Fowl

 

I hit the mother load of antique stores today in Guthrie, Oklahoma secondary to my mom being Ms. Tour Guide with a visiting aunt.  Which is dangerous, because antique stores are potential emotional and financial black holes for me. Within five minutes of being in the place, I found two pieces of furniture that would have set me back almost a grand.  I felt lucky that I got out of there today for less than $30.

But let's get the issue at hand.  Our little friend up there.  Who, by the way, you can get for the bargain basement price of $350.  That's right.  Three HUNDRED and fifty dollars.  Because he's a rare...

...wait a sec, I wrote this down lest I forget...

(consulting notes)

...a RARE! California Brayton Laguana.  

Which means absolutely nothing to me.  You could make this statement in Swahili and it would probably make more sense.  

Look, I'll show you: 

Ni nadra! California Brayton Laguna.

(Huh. That really didn't have the punch I was hoping for.) 

At any rate, he's available if you want him.  And he's in good shape, although it would appear he's going to be constantly cock-a-doo-da-doodling at you and is this the kind of permanent companion you want in your kitchen or dining room or guest room or wherever.  


Well, I guess if he's the guest room it's a none issue.  ->  

The Bleus

I'm ashamed to say I didn't have a relationship with bleu cheese until just a couple of years ago.  All that time wasted and for what?  Inferior salads, inferior crackers, and fruit with no serious accompaniment. 

I'm not proud.  

By the way, I bought it here, which is a Norman gem.  I frequent this store at least weekly, because quality cheese in my fridge is a quality of life issue. ->

Wii

In addition to ourselves, my parents, my brothers, and various other fictional characters floating around in our Mii village (thanks to Little Missy who used to create them willy nilly for entertainment), we also have Santa, Michael Jackson and The Beatles.  


Ringo's a pretty good bowler.  -> 

H3

Little Missy, to me as I'm getting in my stealth shot:  That's not polite, Mom.  

Me: Yeah, well...neither is driving a Hummer. * ->

*Fine.  I didn't actually say that.  I thought of that retort about an hour later.  

MWB

First shot!  FIRST and only picture!  Wheeee!!!!  

(diggity dance)

Say you: Geez.  Calm thyself.  

Say me: After getting called out on two hours sleep one hour before my shift was due to end, being completely duped during an assessment earlier today and dropping the just-made brownies on the floor, I'll take what I can get. ->

MFSRP

"Wow!" I said to myself as I was meandering around Dillards trying to find something for my mother for Christmas.  "Oh, this is a nice bag.   


Really nice.  


Hmmmm......


I know I'm supposed to be shopping for mom, but I don't have a grey bag and this one is animal print to boot and Oh my!  It's so soft!  


And I dig the hardware. 


How much is it? 

Yeah.  


Hell. No."   ->