Archive for July, 2011
If I was granted 10 wishes, I’d wish to be a nicer person.
Fuck you. No I wouldn’t. I was totally lying. You didn’t believe that horseshit, did you?
I would wish to be less obsessed with getting it perfect, and a lot more satisfied with getting it done.
I’d also wish for world peace, via having a large number of people (think REALLY LARGE) shift to an alternate reality that they were not sharing with me. I don’t care about an end to war, I just need more peace for me, personally.
I don’t have the top 10 all mapped out, but somewhere in there, I’d want to be able to consistently peel a boiled egg perfectly.
I’ve read hundreds of web tips, watched videos, explored techniques and looked at gadgets. I still peel a mutated fucked up dented, chipped, and gouged egg as often as I peel a perfectly smooth egg shaped egg.
I fucking hate slop in the kitchen.
I have a boiled egg almost every day, unless I am eating breakfast out, have run out of eggs, or… I don’t know, am too busy puking my guts out or something (see the 2nd week of July), so it isn’t as if I don’t have a lot of practice peeling eggs.
I like deviled eggs. I LOVE good deviled eggs. I make a damn good deviled egg, but I never do it because the process of trying to peel that many eggs drives me fucking mad. I haven’t made a batch since before my kid was born, and she is old enough to get her driver’s license now.
The last time I made them it was because I asked people I love what I should bring to their house for a party, and they replied “Your deviled eggs!” I made eggs for the party. There was a lot of screaming and swearing and a little crying (and a lot of rejected eggs) and people at the party loved them. I never asked those friends what I should bring to their house again. I just told them what I could bring.
Yes, I know, some people would make deviled eggs with slightly fucked up, or even very fucked up eggs, but I am not that person.
Wait, scratch the egg peeling skills wish. If I am wishing, let’s just wish big. I want ultimate egg skillz, yo. No fishing egg shells out of mixing bowls. No breaking the yolk on over easy eggs. No fucking up an omelet while trying to flip or fold it. No curdling while making a custard. No accidentally having one roll off the counter and break on the floor while I am busy grabbing some other ingredient. You get the idea.
Clucking chickens and their little packages of kitchen stress.
Yes, I know. If you are paying attention and are the kind of asshole who likes to point shit out, you might be itching to type something about how if I was less obsessed with getting it perfect and more obsessed with getting it done, I’d just bring ugly tasty deviled eggs to parties, and I’d be a lot more likable. Fuck you. I don’t want to be likable. I just want to quickly peel eggs without having chunks of white stick to the shell, and I want to do with without resorting to raising my own chickens in an effort to feed them perfectly and have the eggs be as fresh as possible.
If there were less people I wouldn’t need as many eggs to serve deviled eggs at a party.
My morning breakfast peeled perfectly this morning. It won’t tomorrow. I don’t even know which is worse.
Multiple friends have pointed out to me that the month of June is over. I went an entire month without a smart phone, and am now more than a week into July, and I still don’t have one.
I honestly thought it was going to be REALLY difficult for me. As it turns out, I’ve rarely missed my smart phone, and more than that, I am totally disinterested in my dumb phone. I’ve gone a couple of days in a row with it set on silent, without noticing that I was missing all calls and texts. I forget to charge it, and it is dead half the time. I forget to take it with me. I have become my mother.
I check email significantly less now. I used to check it like a rat pushing a button for a pellet. Sometimes I’d find a good email in my inbox. Push. Push. Push. Push. There have been days in June when I only checked my email once. Other than while on a couple of cruises, that is less than I have checked my email since 1993, when I needed to use dial-up.
I’m done. I’m not really, but I could be. I could let go of being connected for a long time.
However, I’ve had multiple people whom I actual care about lodge official complaints about this experiment. They hate me being so unavailable. So, somehow, I must get back to having a smart phone again.
But, I can’t find the right phone, which is really how I got here to start with.
I am looking for a 5 row QWERTY Android Phone, with a high build quality, a reasonable price, and available with an unlimited data plan. I don’t want to sign a contract.
The Android Sidekick 4G has the best keyboard of everything I looked at, because they sort of tried to keep the old form factor, and the Sidekick 2 keyboard was close to perfect for me (the 3 sucked, but the LX 2009 was okay). Unfortunately I think the build quality feels cheap in comparison to other phones and the way the phone opens is not nearly as good as the Sidekick they broke. Of course, T-Mobile isn’t exactly my best friend these days. Meh.
The G2 felt better and seemed like a better choice, but only had 4 rows. In the past month, T-Mobile replaced it with a G2X which doesn’t have a keyboard at all, meaning I’d have to make an extra effort to find one.
The Droid 3 has the 5th row, but is with Verizon, which means more expensive and they are tossing out the unlimited data plan, so that makes it even MORE expensive.
The Xperia Pro looks interesting, but isn’t out yet, and previously they said it would be out 2nd quarter 2011, and now they are saying 3rd quarter. Also, it is likely not going to be released in the US at all, so I’d have to get an unlocked international one. It doesn’t have the 5th row either, which makes jumping through hoops for it less appealing.
At this point, I guess I am leaning toward the Samsung Intercept which doesn’t have the 5th row, and looks to have even lower build quality than the new Sidekick, but it is significantly cheaper, and maybe Virgin Mobile will annoy me less than T-Mobile. They prepaid plan pricing is definitely better, and more suited to how I use a phone.
So, at some point I’ll get another phone, just to please a few key people. I don’t feel in a hurry, but I know they are. I make no promises as to the speed at which I manage this. Probably sometime post birthday week, since I have too much to do before then to actually decide which phone that I don’t want will be the one I go ahead and get.
I hate smoking. It drives me totally crazy. Well, I don’t mind the idea of smoking. Go do whatever the fuck you want. I just hate the smell of it. I hate the smell of stale smoke leftover on smokers, or on myself if I’ve been in a smoky place, and I really am made utterly miserable when I am where I can smell somebody actively smoking.
There was a time when it didn’t bother me. I became sensitive while I was pregnant. I became sensitive to damn near everything while I was pregnant, and I vomited for 8.5 months. It was gross and miserable. Smoke was one of the major triggers (as was the smell of mint). More than 16 years later, the reaction has eased, but it never went away.
So, I hate being near smoking, and find it very difficult to be actively social with smokers, because even if they are very courteous about not ever smoking near me, they always stink to me.
I am not actually in favor of laws banning smoking in establishments, as I believe that should be up to the business owner, but I do enjoy the benefit of those laws, and have lived for a very long time now in places where I am not asked whether I want to sit in the smoking or non-smoking section when I enter a restaurant. The culture shock of being back in Nevada always catches me a little off guard. I drive into Vegas and think, and often say, “Why don’t we come here more often?” but 10 minutes in a casino and I remember exactly why I don’t go there more often.
Which brings me to the point of the post (thought I’d never get there, right?).
Something about the air system at The Cosmopolitan was amazing. The smokers there didn’t bother me at all. Yes, I could smell smoke if I stood immediately next to a person with a lit cigarette, but at a few feet away, the smoke was not reaching me. I don’t know how they do it, but I wish every place was doing it.