So blogger caught some sort of internet-ebola, and yesterday's post along with most of the comments on Wednesday's post are gone with the wind. It's like Blogger bitch-slapped me for being successful.
To every one who posted a comment on Wednesday's post, thank you. I never had so many comments on one post before, and it made me feel really good that people actually took the time to read the post and say something.
I'd re-post yesterday's post, but unfortunately it is one of the few that I didn't prepare a draft of, but wrote off the top of my head instead. I'll post something interesting again, but first I shall write a strongly-worded letter to my Congressman about this calamity.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go find some one to yell at.
Update: It looks like the post is back, but most of the comments from Wednesday's post are still gone. I am not amused.
Showing posts with label technology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label technology. Show all posts
Friday, May 13, 2011
Friday, April 1, 2011
Welcome To 2007. Here’s Your iPhone.
About two weeks ago my old cell phone kicked the bucket.
My phone was touch-screen, but not a smartphone, and was ridiculously complicated to operate. By the end of its life, it was more of a hit-screen. And a swear-and-yell screen. And after suffering weeks of physical and emotional abuse it hitched a ride out of this Podunk town, never to be seen again.
Fortunately, my contract was up anyways, garnering me a new phone at a “reasonable” cost.
Always remember, “reasonable” is subjective.
I considered “downgrading” to a phone with buttons but that seemed sort of lame, even to me.
So I got an iPhone. This probably won’t end well.
I don’t have the greatest track-record with technology. I’m slow to embrace it into my life, and when I do, I break it.
Case in point: A couple years ago, at Husband’s urging, I purchased a MacBook. I had it for 2 months and spilled coffee on the keyboard, breaking the trackpad. We purchased an external mouse, but still.
I’m taking every precaution possible with this new phone. Protective case. Scratch-resistant film. Animal sacrifice.
Still, I’m probably best off not touching the thing. And that’s ok. Because I hear smoke-signals are coming back into vogue.
Right?
My phone was touch-screen, but not a smartphone, and was ridiculously complicated to operate. By the end of its life, it was more of a hit-screen. And a swear-and-yell screen. And after suffering weeks of physical and emotional abuse it hitched a ride out of this Podunk town, never to be seen again.
Fortunately, my contract was up anyways, garnering me a new phone at a “reasonable” cost.
Always remember, “reasonable” is subjective.
I considered “downgrading” to a phone with buttons but that seemed sort of lame, even to me.
So I got an iPhone. This probably won’t end well.
I don’t have the greatest track-record with technology. I’m slow to embrace it into my life, and when I do, I break it.
Case in point: A couple years ago, at Husband’s urging, I purchased a MacBook. I had it for 2 months and spilled coffee on the keyboard, breaking the trackpad. We purchased an external mouse, but still.
I’m taking every precaution possible with this new phone. Protective case. Scratch-resistant film. Animal sacrifice.
Still, I’m probably best off not touching the thing. And that’s ok. Because I hear smoke-signals are coming back into vogue.
Right?
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Where’s My Hand-Basket? Recalculating.
Last Friday, I journeyed with my children and in-laws to Chicago’s Shedd Aquarium. Since this was a three-hour trip each way, and I’m not terribly familiar with the Chicago area, I needed some directional assistance.
Instead of printing out directions from Google Maps, or bringing along my extra-large atlas, I decided to rely solely on my Garmin. I don’t know why I keep doing this; it never works out well for me.
Nevertheless, we all piled into my minivan, and we were on our way.
About 45 minutes into the trip, we finally reached the point where no one knew where we were anymore. Oh, we had a general idea. On a road. In Wisconsin. Under the sun.
Not too long after, the Garmin (in her delightful British accent) directed us to exit the interstate, and head onto a state highway. Like dutiful sheep, we followed her directions off I-90, onto Highway 14, and back .... onto I-90. It was a portent of things to come.
Recalculating.
Undaunted, we sojourned on, eventually crossing the Wisconsin-Illinois border. After another 90 miles, or so, the Garmin told us to exit the Interstate just outside downtown Chicago. This seemed reasonable.
Turns out “reasonable” is subjective. The next hour went something like this:
Garmin: “Go 3.6 miles, then keep right.”
Me: “There is no ‘keep right’ - it’s just a 6 lane highway.”
Father-in-law: “Should I turn right?”
Me: “No, keep going forward.”
Garmin: “Recalculating. Turn right on Ohio St.”
Me: “We’re already on Ohio St.”
Father-in-law: “Should I take the next right?”
Me: “Probably.”
Garmin: “Recalculating. Go .8 miles.”
Me: “Ok...”
We travel .3 miles.
Garmin: “Recalculating.”
Me: ???
Father-in-law: “Which way should we go?”
Me: “I don’t know! Keep going straight!”
Garmin: “Recalculating. Keep left on Lakeshore Drive.”
Me: “Uh-oh. I think ‘keep left’ meant go down that ramp.”
Father-in-law: “What ramp?”
Mother-in-law: “Should I pull out our Garmin to see what it says?”
Garmin: “Recalculating.”
Me: “Ok.”
Garmin #2: “Aquiering satellites.”
Garmin #1: “Turn left onto Wacker Dr.”
Me: “WTF? That takes us away from the lake!”
Mother-in-law: “What should we do?”
Me: “The aquarium is on the lake!”
Garmin #2: "Go 2.7 miles, then turn right on Columbus Dr."
Garmin #1: “Turn left onto Wacker Dr.”
Garmin #2: “Turn right on Columbus Dr.”
Me: “Is this Hell? I think we’re in Hell.”
Garmin #1: “Recalculating.”
Garmin #2: “Recalculating.”
At that point, all 3 of our heads exploded.
Preschooler: “Are we there yet?”
In the end, we ended up following my in-law’s Garmin. After all, the gentleman in their Garmin had an American accent. The lady in my Garmin was from the UK. She probably wasn’t that familiar with the Chicago area.
And despite the fact that (unbeknownst to us), Chicago public schools were on spring break, and every parent (lest they go insane) brought their child to the aquarium that day, the outing was a success.
We saw fish. We ate lunch. We even managed to make it back home.
Upon arriving at home, we relayed this harrowing adventure to Husband.
Him: “Huh. I guess we need to update our maps.”
Me: “I thought we did that.”
Him: “No.”
Me: “So when we don’t update our maps, Garmin calculates its directions based on Dante’s seven layers of Hell?”
Him: “Apparently so.”
Awesome.
Instead of printing out directions from Google Maps, or bringing along my extra-large atlas, I decided to rely solely on my Garmin. I don’t know why I keep doing this; it never works out well for me.
Nevertheless, we all piled into my minivan, and we were on our way.
About 45 minutes into the trip, we finally reached the point where no one knew where we were anymore. Oh, we had a general idea. On a road. In Wisconsin. Under the sun.
Not too long after, the Garmin (in her delightful British accent) directed us to exit the interstate, and head onto a state highway. Like dutiful sheep, we followed her directions off I-90, onto Highway 14, and back .... onto I-90. It was a portent of things to come.
Recalculating.
Undaunted, we sojourned on, eventually crossing the Wisconsin-Illinois border. After another 90 miles, or so, the Garmin told us to exit the Interstate just outside downtown Chicago. This seemed reasonable.
Turns out “reasonable” is subjective. The next hour went something like this:
Garmin: “Go 3.6 miles, then keep right.”
Me: “There is no ‘keep right’ - it’s just a 6 lane highway.”
Father-in-law: “Should I turn right?”
Me: “No, keep going forward.”
Garmin: “Recalculating. Turn right on Ohio St.”
Me: “We’re already on Ohio St.”
Father-in-law: “Should I take the next right?”
Me: “Probably.”
Garmin: “Recalculating. Go .8 miles.”
Me: “Ok...”
We travel .3 miles.
Garmin: “Recalculating.”
Me: ???
Father-in-law: “Which way should we go?”
Me: “I don’t know! Keep going straight!”
Garmin: “Recalculating. Keep left on Lakeshore Drive.”
Me: “Uh-oh. I think ‘keep left’ meant go down that ramp.”
Father-in-law: “What ramp?”
Mother-in-law: “Should I pull out our Garmin to see what it says?”
Garmin: “Recalculating.”
Me: “Ok.”
Garmin #2: “Aquiering satellites.”
Garmin #1: “Turn left onto Wacker Dr.”
Me: “WTF? That takes us away from the lake!”
Mother-in-law: “What should we do?”
Me: “The aquarium is on the lake!”
Garmin #2: "Go 2.7 miles, then turn right on Columbus Dr."
Garmin #1: “Turn left onto Wacker Dr.”
Garmin #2: “Turn right on Columbus Dr.”
Me: “Is this Hell? I think we’re in Hell.”
Garmin #1: “Recalculating.”
Garmin #2: “Recalculating.”
At that point, all 3 of our heads exploded.
Preschooler: “Are we there yet?”
In the end, we ended up following my in-law’s Garmin. After all, the gentleman in their Garmin had an American accent. The lady in my Garmin was from the UK. She probably wasn’t that familiar with the Chicago area.
And despite the fact that (unbeknownst to us), Chicago public schools were on spring break, and every parent (lest they go insane) brought their child to the aquarium that day, the outing was a success.
We saw fish. We ate lunch. We even managed to make it back home.
Upon arriving at home, we relayed this harrowing adventure to Husband.
Him: “Huh. I guess we need to update our maps.”
Me: “I thought we did that.”
Him: “No.”
Me: “So when we don’t update our maps, Garmin calculates its directions based on Dante’s seven layers of Hell?”
Him: “Apparently so.”
Awesome.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Tech-No
I am usually dragged kicking and screaming towards new technologies - by husband, who loves that which is innovative and shiny.
Our printer isn’t just a printer. It can also scan, copy and fax. I refuse to acknowledge these capabilities, even after Husband showed me for the fourth time how to line the little picture up in the corner of the machine and press “print.”
This is totally at odds with the fact that I’ve worked in office environments for many a year, and can competently use a xerox machine. I can even open up the doors to remove a paper jam AND put them back together. I should get a degree or something.
I also have a really hard time using touch-screen technology. My phone is touchscreen. I constantly dial the wrong number, even after it was programmed to recognize the intentions of my short, stubby fingers.
My old iPod finally bit the dust, so I purchased an iPod Nano. I can’t make it work. My short stubby fingers also don’t want me to listen to the dulcet tones of Kenny Rodgers.
So, I feel conflicted. On one hand, I’m really lucky to have access to these confusing new technologies. But if left to my own devices, I’d probably still be walking around with a walkman.
Maybe a discman.
If you want to get fancy.
Our printer isn’t just a printer. It can also scan, copy and fax. I refuse to acknowledge these capabilities, even after Husband showed me for the fourth time how to line the little picture up in the corner of the machine and press “print.”
This is totally at odds with the fact that I’ve worked in office environments for many a year, and can competently use a xerox machine. I can even open up the doors to remove a paper jam AND put them back together. I should get a degree or something.
I also have a really hard time using touch-screen technology. My phone is touchscreen. I constantly dial the wrong number, even after it was programmed to recognize the intentions of my short, stubby fingers.
My old iPod finally bit the dust, so I purchased an iPod Nano. I can’t make it work. My short stubby fingers also don’t want me to listen to the dulcet tones of Kenny Rodgers.
So, I feel conflicted. On one hand, I’m really lucky to have access to these confusing new technologies. But if left to my own devices, I’d probably still be walking around with a walkman.
Maybe a discman.
If you want to get fancy.
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