Tech talk

Crazy that Blake Shelton and Gwen Stefani are dating. Total downgrade for Gwen.

Anyway, here's an observation for you: my life can fit into two duffle bags, but my computer is practically popping its buttons. I actually had to PAY to download software that helps me locate useless/old/duplicate files and delete them. Such is the life for us Macbook Air owners. But I can't be mad. My computer is slightly thicker than my thumbnail (and slightly thinner than my toenail)! With the amount of warped-face Photobooth selfies clogging up its arteries, I'm surprised it's lasted this long at all.

Speaking of Apple products, Andy's had one heck of a struggle getting his iPhone up and running. Carrier/unlocking problems. In fact, after three days of phone calls, a trip to the Apple store and a brand new phone, it's still not working. Tomorrow he'll do what he should have done in the first place: go to a sketchy tech repair place and ask the guy to work his magic.

Wouldn't life be easier if we all still had bedazzled Sidekicks?

Image by Wireimage via Popsugar

Today was one of the prettiest sunsets we've had here on Alki so far. Yellow, then pink, then orange, and then an even better orange. Andy, Barbie and I ate ice cream sandwiches on the beach and played catch with a baseball (no gloves - ouch!). At one point, three ferry boats glided (glid?) by in different directions. Seattle was really showing off.

Now I'm tired and my head hurts from the single, weak vodka soda I drank four hours ago. Best get my arse in bed.

So long,
Margaret

Real talk

Easter is a time of rebirth. It's a season of new life and fresh starts. To honor the occasion, I'm going to lay bare my soul and share with you my innermost thoughts. Well, my innermost thoughts from the past five minutes.

In college, working at the Ultimate Bagel, my friend Barbie and I used to play the game 'Deepest Darkest Secret of the Day'. As the name implies, it involved admitting our biggest secret of that day only—anything from "I'm wearing the same socks as yesterday" to "The fire alarm went off in the dorm, but I hid in the closet instead of going outside in the snow".

Today's post is a twist on that beloved bagel shop pastime. Instead of sharing with you my deepest darkest secret of the day, I'm typing out my deepest darkest thoughts from the past five minutes. 

Here goes it...

Iffy music taste

Is it wrong that I enjoy Maroon 5 and John Mayer as much as I do?

I feel like that really dates me. Kids these days probably don't even know who John Mayer is—or they at least don't sing his song "Neon" in their head every time they use a highlighter.

It could be worse. I could be a huge Jack Johnson fan—or what about TRAIN!?! Omg, Train. Almost forgot about Train.

Still, I'm honest enough to admit that I think Maroon 5 and John Mayer were two of the greatest contributors to pop music during the early 2000s. I can't help what I like!

The reason I feel weird about this is that both John Mayer and Adam Levine are very unlikable human beings.

Classic Mayer face.
Image by Patty Keigan via Wikimedia Commons

Ear zit

I have a zit in my left ear. It hurts, but I'm fascinated by it more than anything else. I can't stop touching it and thinking about how gross it is that I have pores in my ear—and that one of those pores is clogged! FASCINATING.

Mad Men

The new episode of Mad Men was good (first episode of the second half of Season 7). SPOILER ALERT: lots of moustaches, but no real 'holy cow!' moments. I was hoping I'd have a reason to shout "holy cow!" at least once, but the episode was fairly uneventful. It was good, but I was disappointed.

New phone

I synced my email with my new phone, but then un-synced it after a few hours. I wasn't ready. Too much too soon. 

LYMI, 

Margaret

P.S. I'll explain LYMI again, but this is the last time I'm going to do it. So, listen up. LYMI stands for "Love ya, mean it!" Take it, use it, spread it to your fellow man. 

I've gone over to the dark side

I did it.

I bought an iPhone.

MuHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAAA.

So long peaceful, voluntary isolation.

Goodbye smiling at strangers in the Starbucks line. 

Sayonara leaving 'what-was-the-name-of-that-band'-type questions unanswered.

Hello buzzing on my nightstand just as I drift asleep. 

Howdy trying to stop myself from reading emails at red lights.

Welcome urge to preserve everything cute/cool/artsy in my life on Instagram. 

IT IS WHAT IT IS. 

I've had my reservations for a long time. And I'll certainly miss my dumbphone. But I don't want to be a luddite. I'm embarrassed that I'm so bad at touch-screens. 

It was time. I'll be fine. I won't let it change who I am. 

Your old friend,

Margaret

P.S. RHOBH reunion tomorrow night. Kyle R. says it's the most intense reunion of all five seasons. To say I'm looking forward to it = major understatement. I'm shite-ing myself. 

P.P.S. OK, you're on to me. I never smiled at strangers in the Starbucks line. I stare at the rubbery croissants and contemplate buying one.

99 problems, but a smartphone ain't one

Or is it, 'Got 99 problems, but a smartphone is one' or 'but a dumbphone ain't one?' I never did understand that lyric.

Anyway, the point is: I don't have a smartphone. Can you believe it? I—digital marketer, blogger extraordinaire, voice of a generation—cannot access the Internet via my phone. I can't take or receive photos or videos either. I don't even think I can download ringtones.

When I walk places, I get lost. When I forget who sings a certain song, I agonise over it for hours. When I encounter something amusing in real life, I try to remember it so that I can tell people about it later, but then I actually just forget it. Such is the life of someone with a Samsung E1050.

"Hi Taylor, what's up?
Hahaha, no waaay!
Harry actually said that?
Oh my god.
Crazy."

In a world where practically everyone has a smartphone, including both of my parents, what on earth would stop me from obtaining such an objectively useful piece of technology? A few reasons:

1) Laziness — A huge part of my no-iPhone situation comes down to laziness. Getting one would mean walking to a shop, or scrolling through loads of options online. I would have to cancel my current contract, get a new one, set up billing, transfer across my contacts—UGH, I'm stressed out already.

2) Cheapness —My current phone cost £9.99 and it does the job just fine. I'm not sure, but something tells me iPhones cost more than that.

3) Fear of commitment — I never planned to stay in Edinburgh for that long, let alone make a lifelong vow to a filthy Redcoat named Andy. The thought of signing a two-year contract with a British mobile phone company puts me on edge (I'm currently on a rolling monthly contract). What would the Founding Fathers think of me then? Live free or die, etc.

4) Fear of who I would become — You know that person who, mid conversation, grabs his phone from his pocket and begins scrolling, purely out of habit and without even realising what he's doing? That would be me. You know that person who shares a photo of every beautiful sunset, cute baby, delicious meal and hilarious A-frame restaurant sign she comes across? That would be me.

Smartphones have been around a while, but smartphone etiquette is in its infancy. Society still hasn't grasped the dos and don'ts. If I had one, I would be the worst offender of all. My laptop alone causes me to enter a trance-like state, designing budget logos on PowerPoint for hours, yet thinking only five minutes has passed. I don't think I could be trusted with something as addicting and accessible as a smartphone.

It's not that I think smartphones are bad. In fact, the reason I refuse to get one is because I know they are so, so GOOD! I know I would end up liking it too much. It's like heroin or Jet-Puffed Marshmallow Creme. Why start?

You ol' gal,
Margaret

P.S. I charge my phone once a month.