I played with the Blackberry Storm the other night for about a half hour, and I'm a fan! I already have a touchscreen phone, so I'm used to the format. My only complaint was the time it took to toggle between apps. There's a fade out-fade in thingy that causes a seeming 'delay' when switching apps or choosing menu options. It's annoying, and I wish they made it switch instantly instead of trying to make it smooth and transition-y. The touch-screen really requires that you apply pressure and make it click. The electrostatic sensor reads where you're pushing and lights up the button, then you have to click it... almost like double-clicking. I really did like the Storm, though. It has all the Crackberry capabilities, plus an accelerometer and touch-screen horizontal QWERTY keyboard. It can do pix msgs and has GPS navigation, unlike the iphone, and the accelerometer problem that plagued the original version has been fixed. All in all, I'd trade my Voyager for a Storm. It's priced right, too, at $200.
If you have a Blackberry Storm, leave me a comment and let me know what you think of the device.
Dec 24, 2008
Dec 23, 2008
Solitary confinement
I occasionally participate in a blog group called GBE: Group Blogging Experience. This week's prompt is ALONE. Here's my take on it:
Being in a relationship has pros and cons, and so does being alone. After my divorce and cross-country move, I was thrilled to set up my new house as I saw fit. Terracotta colored walls, dark wood, antique embellishments... I finally had a 'girl' house. The pièce de résistance was my new bed: a cherry sleigh bed and super-comfy mattress. I was a woman unto myself.
That is, until I went to bed. How was it that I felt uncomfortable in my new, luxurious bed? I was more than physically comfortable under a thick down comforter, resting my head on fluffy pillows, and yet I felt uneasy. It took a week of sleepless nights to realize my problem: I had shared a bed with someone for one-third of my life. Even though my ex had traveled extensively for work, when we were married, I had 'my side' of the bed, and he had his. I didn't sell the marital bed until I sold the house and moved, and after that, I slept in my childhood bed at my parents' house for a month until I could get moved into a place of my own. This was the first time in my adult life that I had a big bed and no one with whom to share it.
I tried sleeping in the middle, sprawled out. It seemed a waste not to use the entire bed space. With no one stealing the covers or snoring, I should have been in bedtime bliss. But I wasn't. I would wake up every morning on my old 'side'. I could not get used to sleeping in the middle of the bed. I still can't. Sleeping alone in a large bed feels odd, like the universe is a bit off. To me, it almost feels ridiculous having all that space to myself. Superfluous. I guess it's imprinted on my brain or something.
I am still confined to a single side of the bed; however, I have a wonderful man who obliges my weirdness and willingly takes the other side. Funny thing is... now I can sleep on either side. We switch sometimes, depending on who hits the sack first. When I traveled to California in November, it was the first time bf and I had spent a night away from each other in over a year, and I had to revisit the big-bed issue at the hotel. I guess old habits die hard.
For me, sleeping alone in a large bed isn't enjoyable; it's solitary confinement.
Being in a relationship has pros and cons, and so does being alone. After my divorce and cross-country move, I was thrilled to set up my new house as I saw fit. Terracotta colored walls, dark wood, antique embellishments... I finally had a 'girl' house. The pièce de résistance was my new bed: a cherry sleigh bed and super-comfy mattress. I was a woman unto myself.
That is, until I went to bed. How was it that I felt uncomfortable in my new, luxurious bed? I was more than physically comfortable under a thick down comforter, resting my head on fluffy pillows, and yet I felt uneasy. It took a week of sleepless nights to realize my problem: I had shared a bed with someone for one-third of my life. Even though my ex had traveled extensively for work, when we were married, I had 'my side' of the bed, and he had his. I didn't sell the marital bed until I sold the house and moved, and after that, I slept in my childhood bed at my parents' house for a month until I could get moved into a place of my own. This was the first time in my adult life that I had a big bed and no one with whom to share it.
I tried sleeping in the middle, sprawled out. It seemed a waste not to use the entire bed space. With no one stealing the covers or snoring, I should have been in bedtime bliss. But I wasn't. I would wake up every morning on my old 'side'. I could not get used to sleeping in the middle of the bed. I still can't. Sleeping alone in a large bed feels odd, like the universe is a bit off. To me, it almost feels ridiculous having all that space to myself. Superfluous. I guess it's imprinted on my brain or something.
I am still confined to a single side of the bed; however, I have a wonderful man who obliges my weirdness and willingly takes the other side. Funny thing is... now I can sleep on either side. We switch sometimes, depending on who hits the sack first. When I traveled to California in November, it was the first time bf and I had spent a night away from each other in over a year, and I had to revisit the big-bed issue at the hotel. I guess old habits die hard.
For me, sleeping alone in a large bed isn't enjoyable; it's solitary confinement.
Dec 21, 2008
Junk in da trunk
I posted an advertisement on craiglist to sell a bridesmaid dress I have. Here's the ad:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I was supposed to be the maid of honor for a friend, but the bridezilla canned me after she figured out that I couldn't pay for all her bells and whistles. Nice, huh? Anyway, I am stuck with this dress. Here are the details:
BRIDESMAID DRESS:
From: David's Bridal
Size: 18
Style: 81123
Color: Apple Red
Description: Satin strapless ball gown with pick-up detailing on skirt and sash at waist.
I am 5'5", size 16 jeans, and 38D bra, if that helps you guess your size. I did not need the dress tailored at all. Even though it's strapless, it is very flattering to bigger girls like me, especially women with a little junk in the trunk. Plus, it hides the tummy bulges nicely!
Here is the link to the David's Bridal website if you'd like to learn more about the dress:
Link to David's Bridal website
I paid $193.50, including tax, for this new dress. I tried on samples at the store, and then I ordered my size from the manufacturer. It has NEVER, I repeat, NEVER been out of the plastic. I wouldn't want to wear someone else's dress that had makeup stains, body odor, or deodorant marks, so I promise you, this dress has NEVER BEEN WORN!
I am asking $145 firm. That's 25% off the price of a dress from the store.
Here's a photo of the dress from the website:
Please email me if you're interested. Serious inquiries only.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Here's the only reply I've received:
Want to go on a date? I prefer women who arn't sticks. I know this is creepy. I know I know...but nothing ventured nothing gained.
I guess you gotta give the guy points for chutzpah, but if he knew it was creepy, yet he did it anyway, that displays a total lack of judgment, common sense, and personal boundaries. WTF is wrong with people these days?
On a nicer note, I replied:
The answer is no. But three cheers for fat-bottomed girls ;)
Please don't reply further to this message. Thanks, and have a nice day.
If he replies again, I'll post his name and email address on craiglist for men seeking men. Hehehehehe.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I was supposed to be the maid of honor for a friend, but the bridezilla canned me after she figured out that I couldn't pay for all her bells and whistles. Nice, huh? Anyway, I am stuck with this dress. Here are the details:
BRIDESMAID DRESS:
From: David's Bridal
Size: 18
Style: 81123
Color: Apple Red
Description: Satin strapless ball gown with pick-up detailing on skirt and sash at waist.
I am 5'5", size 16 jeans, and 38D bra, if that helps you guess your size. I did not need the dress tailored at all. Even though it's strapless, it is very flattering to bigger girls like me, especially women with a little junk in the trunk. Plus, it hides the tummy bulges nicely!
Here is the link to the David's Bridal website if you'd like to learn more about the dress:
Link to David's Bridal website
I paid $193.50, including tax, for this new dress. I tried on samples at the store, and then I ordered my size from the manufacturer. It has NEVER, I repeat, NEVER been out of the plastic. I wouldn't want to wear someone else's dress that had makeup stains, body odor, or deodorant marks, so I promise you, this dress has NEVER BEEN WORN!
I am asking $145 firm. That's 25% off the price of a dress from the store.
Here's a photo of the dress from the website:
Please email me if you're interested. Serious inquiries only.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Here's the only reply I've received:
Want to go on a date? I prefer women who arn't sticks. I know this is creepy. I know I know...but nothing ventured nothing gained.
I guess you gotta give the guy points for chutzpah, but if he knew it was creepy, yet he did it anyway, that displays a total lack of judgment, common sense, and personal boundaries. WTF is wrong with people these days?
On a nicer note, I replied:
The answer is no. But three cheers for fat-bottomed girls ;)
Please don't reply further to this message. Thanks, and have a nice day.
If he replies again, I'll post his name and email address on craiglist for men seeking men. Hehehehehe.
Dec 18, 2008
Snow days and SUVs
This isn't a lament about the good ol' days, but when I was a kid, it snowed a lot. A LOT. Snow would fall in November, and we wouldn't see the ground again until March. We'd burrow through the drifts created by the snow plow to make igloos. We'd build snow-block forts, mist them down with the hose, and our ice castles would last all winter. Snowmen didn't melt. Kids wore snowsuits or snowpants to school in anticipation of the ever-present outdoor recess. Winter: we endured it, we embraced it, and life continued in spite of it. People threw a few bags of sand in the trunks of their rear wheel drive vehicles and went about their business.
Not so today.
Now it seems that schools close preemptively. A hint of snow or ice in the forecast, and schools are shuttered in anticipation of "the big one." Problem is, the big one seldom comes, and once it does, they district has already exhausted its snow day allowance. This year my son's school runs from Aug 13 to June 3 because the school district builds in superfluous snow days.
People in their SUVs and 4WD trucks seem to collectively vent their failed Nascar dreams and drive like maniacs. Gone are the days of taking it slow, pumping the brakes, and using the manual transmission to rock yourself out of a snowdrift. Yes, front wheel drive, ABS and TCS have done wonders for control and maneuverability, but there is something to be said for caution. Driving a wannabe-tank (I mean Hummer) does not make you invincible.
So now that it's started to sleet, and everyone panicked by the alarmist weather reporters, I'm sure the streets will be crowded with shiny automotive phallic symbols. It's almost 6 pm, so it's about time for school officials to cancel classes tomorrow. There will be no waiting until 4 or 5 am to make the decision; the television weatherman is presumed omniscient.
Drive safe, and enjoy the snow day!
Not so today.
Now it seems that schools close preemptively. A hint of snow or ice in the forecast, and schools are shuttered in anticipation of "the big one." Problem is, the big one seldom comes, and once it does, they district has already exhausted its snow day allowance. This year my son's school runs from Aug 13 to June 3 because the school district builds in superfluous snow days.
People in their SUVs and 4WD trucks seem to collectively vent their failed Nascar dreams and drive like maniacs. Gone are the days of taking it slow, pumping the brakes, and using the manual transmission to rock yourself out of a snowdrift. Yes, front wheel drive, ABS and TCS have done wonders for control and maneuverability, but there is something to be said for caution. Driving a wannabe-tank (I mean Hummer) does not make you invincible.
So now that it's started to sleet, and everyone panicked by the alarmist weather reporters, I'm sure the streets will be crowded with shiny automotive phallic symbols. It's almost 6 pm, so it's about time for school officials to cancel classes tomorrow. There will be no waiting until 4 or 5 am to make the decision; the television weatherman is presumed omniscient.
Drive safe, and enjoy the snow day!
Naked Thursday
You know those days when you're both home, sans kids, it's cold outside, and warm under the covers? Yep, today is one of those days. We're currently taking a break and chowing on leftover pizza, but soon we'll be back to enjoying the sole purpose of Naked Thursday. We used to celebrate Naked Sunday, but now that my mom babysits my kids during the week, she's seldom up for a Saturday overnight.
Now I'm going to retire to the bedroom to discuss supply-side economics with bf. Ciao.
Now I'm going to retire to the bedroom to discuss supply-side economics with bf. Ciao.
Dec 16, 2008
Knit 1, Purl 2
...and get so frustrated that you throw the whole damn thing away and swear off knitting. That's been my experience to date. I get all psyched up to start a project, but when it begins looking more like the outcome of a UFC match between dustbunnies and latch hook rugs, I just toss the tangled mess out. That is, until I learned of the knitting loom.
No, not the type of loom used by Navajo women to weave rugs. A knitting loom is a small circle of plastic that allows an impatient wannabe crafter like me to produce knitted hats. They have other shapes for more complicated projects, but I am starting simply.
Bf and I took the field trip through the snow to craft store for some yarn. I'll post a pic when I have something to show. Right now it looks like an old lady's sewing box threw up on my coffee table. Wish me luck.
No, not the type of loom used by Navajo women to weave rugs. A knitting loom is a small circle of plastic that allows an impatient wannabe crafter like me to produce knitted hats. They have other shapes for more complicated projects, but I am starting simply.
Bf and I took the field trip through the snow to craft store for some yarn. I'll post a pic when I have something to show. Right now it looks like an old lady's sewing box threw up on my coffee table. Wish me luck.
Dec 15, 2008
Another year...
Bf and I celebrated two years together on the 13th. We followed tradition and stopped by the place where we had our first date. There was an atrocious hillbilly band playing, but we had a few drinks and made small talk with the bartender. Lo and behold, she told us that the owner sold the bar, and they were doing away with the live music format. The new owners were turning it into a neighborhood bar. I am very disappointed!
It's is a great venue for live acoustic acts, both local and national, and they have developed a good following over the past few years. To turn it into a neighborhood bar is almost an insult. There are hundreds of dive bars in town; we don't need another. Since I don't have $100k lying around to buy the bar and call the shots, we decided to get a photo of us on our last anniversary there. It's a bummer that we won't be able to honor our tradition throughout the years.
It was nice to have an adults-only evening with my paramour. We had an excellent dinner, a few drinks, and we were home by 11:30 for some no-holds-barred, whole-house, scream-til-you're-hoarse, wild-n-crazy horizontal mambo. **wink** It's hell trying to cum with your face in the pillow, so we took advantage of the kids sleeping over at grandma's.
It's is a great venue for live acoustic acts, both local and national, and they have developed a good following over the past few years. To turn it into a neighborhood bar is almost an insult. There are hundreds of dive bars in town; we don't need another. Since I don't have $100k lying around to buy the bar and call the shots, we decided to get a photo of us on our last anniversary there. It's a bummer that we won't be able to honor our tradition throughout the years.
It was nice to have an adults-only evening with my paramour. We had an excellent dinner, a few drinks, and we were home by 11:30 for some no-holds-barred, whole-house, scream-til-you're-hoarse, wild-n-crazy horizontal mambo. **wink** It's hell trying to cum with your face in the pillow, so we took advantage of the kids sleeping over at grandma's.
Dec 9, 2008
Born again virgin?
I guess I'm popping my blogspot cherry... again. I had a blog back in the day, but I deleted it. Since then, I'd gotten my feet wet blogging again, this time on MySpace. Frankly, it bored me, so I deleted my MySpace account. MySpace is full of freaks and psychos who love to hate ya.
Perhaps I'm one of those people who needs constant stimulation and entertainment to feel alive? That might explain my skydiving adventures, persistent wanderlust, and penchant for Jagermeister. Regardless, here I am. Since I don't have "friends lists" to contend with (good riddance), I've unlaced the gloves and peeled off the tape. I'm tired of withholding in order to placate the crazies.
Maybe that's why I've found my way back to blogspot: to say what I want without starting a flame war. Plus, I've been beyond exhausted. Thanks to my ex-husband's lack of follow-through when it comes to child support, I am flat-on-my-face broke. My brother has been yanking my chain lately, too, which is really starting to piss me off. Lastly, Christmas and three kids' birthdays really take a lot out of this woman. I fall asleep every night on the couch around 9. I haven't had sex since Sunday (today is Tuesday), so I'm tired, horny, broke, and spun out.
Don't get me wrong; I'm not complaining. I managed to hoodwink the most incredible man on the planet into a loving, caring, passionate partnership. My kids rock. I'm in school studying what I love. Everyone's healthy, all the Christmas presents are wrapped, and I am under a glorious down comforter on this cold winter's night. Life is grand. I'm just kinda tired and stressed out lately. You should SEE my calendar. It's ridiculous. If you want to hit me up for a drink and some girl talk, you'll have to make an appointment. My next available evening is three weeks away. No kidding.
So here I am, a reborn blogger. I guess if Lazarus can rise from the dead, so can I. I'll write what I want when the mood strikes. No rhyme or reason. If you have a fun topic, shoot me an email. I'll run with it. But now, I'm out. Ciao.
Perhaps I'm one of those people who needs constant stimulation and entertainment to feel alive? That might explain my skydiving adventures, persistent wanderlust, and penchant for Jagermeister. Regardless, here I am. Since I don't have "friends lists" to contend with (good riddance), I've unlaced the gloves and peeled off the tape. I'm tired of withholding in order to placate the crazies.
Maybe that's why I've found my way back to blogspot: to say what I want without starting a flame war. Plus, I've been beyond exhausted. Thanks to my ex-husband's lack of follow-through when it comes to child support, I am flat-on-my-face broke. My brother has been yanking my chain lately, too, which is really starting to piss me off. Lastly, Christmas and three kids' birthdays really take a lot out of this woman. I fall asleep every night on the couch around 9. I haven't had sex since Sunday (today is Tuesday), so I'm tired, horny, broke, and spun out.
Don't get me wrong; I'm not complaining. I managed to hoodwink the most incredible man on the planet into a loving, caring, passionate partnership. My kids rock. I'm in school studying what I love. Everyone's healthy, all the Christmas presents are wrapped, and I am under a glorious down comforter on this cold winter's night. Life is grand. I'm just kinda tired and stressed out lately. You should SEE my calendar. It's ridiculous. If you want to hit me up for a drink and some girl talk, you'll have to make an appointment. My next available evening is three weeks away. No kidding.
So here I am, a reborn blogger. I guess if Lazarus can rise from the dead, so can I. I'll write what I want when the mood strikes. No rhyme or reason. If you have a fun topic, shoot me an email. I'll run with it. But now, I'm out. Ciao.
Dec 8, 2008
The Beginning
Once upon a time, back when the Internet was young, there lived a beautiful princess who loved to blog. She wrote about her thoughts, ideas, opinions, and happenings, and everyone enjoyed reading her tidbits. Sometimes her acerbic wit and sharp tongue angered the townsfolk, but mostly the citizens found humor in her writings, and all was good.
Then one day, the ex-prince became angry with the princess, and he decided to take her to court (again). The princess's life became subject to inspection and invasion, and the princess's attorney advised her to stop writing her blogs. Saddened by the damage that her blogs had done to her legal case, the princess vowed never again to write in a public forum. She shelved all her thoughts, her musings, and her wry observations, and she was sad. The townsfolk, noting her absence, begged the ex-prince to drop his suit, but he refused.
After awhile, the princess decided she was through being pushed around by the ex-prince and his crazy new wife. In order to retain her privacy and protect her children, the princess decided to write in secret. She disguised herself and became known as The Masked Scribbler. I am that princess, and this is my story.
Then one day, the ex-prince became angry with the princess, and he decided to take her to court (again). The princess's life became subject to inspection and invasion, and the princess's attorney advised her to stop writing her blogs. Saddened by the damage that her blogs had done to her legal case, the princess vowed never again to write in a public forum. She shelved all her thoughts, her musings, and her wry observations, and she was sad. The townsfolk, noting her absence, begged the ex-prince to drop his suit, but he refused.
After awhile, the princess decided she was through being pushed around by the ex-prince and his crazy new wife. In order to retain her privacy and protect her children, the princess decided to write in secret. She disguised herself and became known as The Masked Scribbler. I am that princess, and this is my story.
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