I'm Phonin', and I Can't Hang Up

Never before in my life have I spent so much time with a telephone, without actually talking to anyone.

I remember when I finally broke down about three years ago and got a cell phone. I had held out as long as I could, but the convenience and safety aspects finally convinced me -- not to mention the rudeness and general incompetance of the land-line phone company. So I signed a contract and picked up one of those basic Motorola phones. It didn't do much, but I didn't WANT it to -- all I wanted was a telephone. I was amazed that I could make it ring different ways.

Then when that finally broke, I got a new Siemens cellphone with a COLOR DISPLAY. I could CHANGE THE PICTURES AND THE RINGERS. Boy, did I feel advanced.

What a piece of crap. I was back in the phone store within a year needing yet another replacement. The lady talked me into getting this little black Nokia camera-phone: "It takes pictures, and plays the radio, and has video games, and if you opt for the extended plan, you can get text feeds from the internet, and..."

Me: "Can I use it to make and receive phone calls?"

Her: "Well, yeah, it does that too."

Me: "Fine."

This thing has more buttons than the space shuttle, and for the first couple of months, I've been afraid to push any of them. But then I decided that I wasn't going to be intimidated by my own telephone, so I started playing around. I discovered the camera. I discovered the games. Holy shit! I can set my OWN PICTURES on the screen! I can download REAL SONGS!! I can make my OWN RECORDINGS FOR RINGTONES!! I can...I can...hey, what's this? "My Album"? "My Journal"??? I discovered the FREAKIN' INTERNET ON MY PHONE.

I can upload MY PICTURES to a 25m space in my online phone account (which I didn't know existed until a week ago) which has a photo album and a blog. I can get my whole photo album from my phone, as long as I'm in range. I can send my drawings and other graphics to my phone via email, and then email myself back from the phone to tell myself what I thought of them.

All I wanted was a telephone. Now I hope no one's trying to call me, since that would interrupt my phone time.

No Whining

Nope, not from me lately, not at all. The Universe handed me the very thing I'd been asking for.

A little griping, though, about a totally unrelated topic. What happened to Michigan drivers? When did they all attend California driving school? Knock it off!

It's this whole "entitlement" movement. If you're around my age, you may remember a little jingle they used to play during the after-school shows (or maybe it was on Sesame Street; I don't remember.) Kids singing: "The most im-por-tant person in the whole wide world is YOU..." and so forth. Well, apparantly a lot of people actually believed that bullshit. The only problem is that we can't ALL be the most important person in the whole wide world, so something's gotta give.

It's first thing in the morning, and I'm having trouble stringing a coherent thought together, much less a public blog entry. I can't wait to read this later and see just what I put up here for the whole world to look at. (Then again, I'm the most important person in it, so I can do as I please. Maybe I'll go for a drive.)

ACK!

Some people are actually READING this! (Hello, MySpace visitors!) Just figured I'd throw this post up (huuuwaaaaahhhhhggghh...ewww, gross) so that my most recent entry wouldn't be that wanky pout-fest below. Not that I'm gonna delete it, since it stil applies.

Today's Good Thing: I have tomorrow off!

As long as I'm at it...

It's my blog and I can get away with a LITTLE griping, right? I'm doing far better, attitude-wise, than some of the other blogs out there. So here goes.

Where the hell are all my friends with comments? I read and comment on their blogs all the time (unless, of course, they specifically requested that I not do so). Mine remains empty of Preiteratian merriment. Everyone thinks I'm terrific as long as I'm making THEM look good and feel important. Where's MY support system? Fuck you guys. You're not reading this anyway.

Present company excluded. Thanks for being here, gang.

/whining

Weather

Yeah, it's waaaay too damned hot, and we'll all probably die soon of global warming conditions...but that's not what I want to talk about. This weather -- the hot, sticky summer weather, drives me crazy. Especially at night. I feel like I should be sneaking out of the house, being reeeeeal quiet so Mom doesn't wake up, and go out to meet Sonya on the corner by the Dairy Queen. Todd and Drew will be by to pick us up. The four of us will then proceed to find some old drunk to buy us beer, and we'll all go (minus the old drunk) on an Airport Run and be out until 2 or 3 in the morning. It's much harder to sneak back in than it is to sneak out, because drunk people have a little problem with grace and dexterity.

But I'm 37 now, and I don't need to sneak out, and I can buy my own beer. Not that I drink it anymore -- it's no fun now that I can have it legally.

Also, I want a cigarette, but I am no longer immortal and can't have those anymore, either.

Crap.

Marginally Political Post

Today, I read in the paper that...

"(US Senate) members voted 49 to 48 against ending debate on the motion to proceed to a full Senate vote on the Marriage Protection Amendment."

Which means, if I'm not mistaken, that they must have discussed voting on whether they should continue discussing the fact that they should have a discussion about someone's idea that maybe they should make a decision about this issue, and in the end, they decided to discuss it.

And that's why I don't get all excited about politics. Though it's funnier than most sit-coms, quantum physics makes more sense.

Besides, we all know who's behind it.

A Mighty Battle

What is up with all these giant, nasty black houseflies this year? I don't remember seeing so many before. These aren't your normal houseflies, oh, no...these are twice as big and have a definite attitude problem. (Evidenced by the fact that they insist on coming into my house.)

At least they're slow.

Today I walked into the bathroom and saw one such monstrosity lounging right on my clean sink. So I grabbed the hair spray and was able to give him a quick coating of sticky stuff before he could fly away. He flew up, then landed in the little decorative dish with the pretty rocks and the little fishy-shaped soaps. I sprayed him again. Little fucker. How dare he not die when I want him to die? I picked up the dish and banged it on the sink once or twice (breaking the bottom, I think). Eventually he fell out and dashed behind the faucet fixtures. I sprayed, he changed sides. I swiped at him with a cloth, he ran back and forth, hiding first behind the hot water faucet, then the cold. I sprayed, he ran, I swatted, he hid.

Finally he made a wrong move, and found himself out in the open. Swat! Swat! Swat! I got him! Ha! But he wasn't dead -- he was only PLAYING dead. See, I know that, because I gave one of his filthy little friends just such a swat the other day, and found him standing right back up an hour later.

This time, I shoved him down the drain and ran the water! That'll teach him! Die! Die! DIE in the SEWER where
you belong, you

foul THING!!

So, how was YOUR day?

At least it's not just me!

Ha! Today I spent some time browsing through strangers' blogs, reading about their lives, and am pleased to discover that I am not the ONLY one who whines and wanks online! Imagine that! In fact, from what I've read, it's either whining and wanking, or endless pictures of spoiled children, or a series of simpering minute-by-minute update about the tender joys of being pregnant. Yak.

Foreign language blogs don't count, since I can't figure out if they're wanking or not.

There was even a blog devoted to the horrors experienced by a former employee of a particular retail store...when he had the job, that is...five years ago. Let it GO, man.

So! I do not feel like such a loser when I complain about my life here online where the teeming masses can read it. If what I read today is any indication, why, it seems the WHOLE WORLD has a terrible dearth of sob stories, and we brave bloggers are doing our best to fill it!

Therefore, I am pleased to announce that TODAY I WENT TO THE DELI HOPING TO GET A ROTISSIERE-ROASTED CHICKEN PANINI SANDWICH, AND THEY DIDN'T FUCKING HAVE ANY. FUCKERS!! What is this world coming to?! Is this America, or not? Don't I have the constitutional RIGHT to a rotissierie-roasted chicken panini sandwich whenever I damn well want one? And you know what else? Last time I went in there for a rotissierie-roasted chicken panini sandwich, THEY WERE OUT OF THEM THEN, TOO!!!

Can you believe this?! I work HARD for my money! I want to CONTRIBUTE to the Capitalist agenda! But how CAN I contribute, when my attempts to participate in the consumer dream are so consistently thwarted?

Hot damn. We the People don't have to stand for this. I'm going to start a rev-o-frickin'-lution.

They're just lucky that there were eggrolls.