You see this picture? This fairly boring picture of my cats wrestling? Could you do me a favor and enjoy the CRAP out of it, please?
I came home for lunch yesterday, as I am wont to do, and when the kittens startled their shenanigans I took this picture and thought, This might be cute. Ima take the little memory card thingamabob out my camera and put it in the convenient slot on the side of my NEW COMPUTER.
On the right side of my NEW COMPUTER are two slots. One teensy one for the little square memory card and one giant slot right above it for DVDs or CDs or Sandra Dee or whatever.
Now, see. I could make so many friends-of-mine-who-are-slutty jokes about the giant slot, but you never know who reads this blog. Just recently I got an email from a woman who was the secretary at a place I worked in 1988. "I just love your blog!"
I'm all, "How the Sam Holy Hell did you FIND my blog?"
"I'd heard a rumor you were dead, so I Binged you. And there was your blog!"
Now, I am not in any way insinuating that this woman, who was lovely and not at all a slut as far as I could see, would be the brunt of my hilarious slutty-friends jokes. I am just saying. You never know.
Wait. Why was there a rumor I was dead?
So, there I am, not dead, putting my teensy memory card thingie on the side of my computer, and you know what I did? Do you? WHY DIDN'T YOU STOP ME, THEN?
I put the teensy square into the GIANT SLOT accidentally. Well. Obviously it was an accident. Because who wants to end up panicking and Googling (or Binging) "How to get teensy card out a giant slot" and reading "You EEEEEEDIOT! Were you DRUNK? How'd you do THAT?" on various sites and so forth? Who? No one.
Is there anything worse than those snooty I-know-everything-about-computers people? I mean, snooty I-know-all-about-grammar people are FINE. Perfectly acceptable. But COMPUTER know-it-alls? Insufferable.
I emailed Daniel Boone, who may or may not be one of those I-know-everything-about-computers people. "Your ineptness with computer things is really cute," he said, the novelty of my personality not yet worn off for him. Then I told him that I also had a dead iPhone, as I may have, you know, dropped it in the toilet this weekend.
I think that was the last I heard from Daniel Boone yesterday.
I went back to work and my boss, who is good with computers and would never stick a teensy card in a GIANT SLOT, said I should (a) try to shake the pee out my computer when I got home and (8) go to the Apple store and say my mom stuck the teensy card in the GIANT SLOT, so that the workers there would not laugh at me.
Shaking the pee out my BRAND-NEW COMPUTER did not work, so I went to the dang Apple store.
And? I also brought my toilet-y dead iPhone.
Why does everything happen to me? Am I JOB?
I looked cool walking in with my huge computer screen while everyone else had a sleek laptop. It was like I was lugging a Mastiff into a roomful of Schnoodles.
For the record, I don't actually know what a Schnoodle is. A poodle mixed with schnoo?
The entire Apple store was filled with 27-year-old sort of nerdy hep males. They all kind of look like they might write for The Simpsons. And I, too, am hep, with my reference to such a current show.
"What've we got here?" a sort of hot Asian guy with horn-rimmed glasses asked me.
"I stuck my teensy card in my GIANT SLOT," I said. "Oh, and here. I dropped my iPhone in the toilet." I slid my phone at him. It was less an iPhone and more of a pPhone at this point.
"Oh, snap," said the Asian, and I now wish to use "Oh, snap" all the time. "Let's set you up with one of our geniuses."
Well, that was nice. That they have geniuses, I mean. Do you have to take an IQ test when you apply there, or...?
So I waited till it was my turn with a genius. I watched a cute little toddler with a pink cast get a crush on this little boy who had a microphone that he kept tapping and saying "Test, test." I mean, he was three, tops. How did he know this move? Is his dad Lenny Kravitz? Also? Welcome to my 1990s references today.
The leg-girl/Kriss Kross romance ended in tragedy once the microphone kid was told he had to leave and he threw himself on the floor and test, tested his mother's patience. Finally the genius, who just looked like a chubby guy with a beard, came to help me.
He got the teensy card out my GIANT SLOT in .007 seconds. He used a piece of tape and went up in there. What a genius!
My phone?
Dead.
Morte.
The fat lady has peed. On her own phone.
So that sucks. They told me I could buy a whole 'nother iPhone or call AT&T and see if I could cancel my contract. Which is what I went home to do after I lugged my Mastiff/screen back to my car.
Oh, one good thing to come of all this is that they had tutorial hints on the wall? And I learned how to do this: a.
Crap!
Wait. aaaaaooooooooooooooo
Crap! According to what I learned last night, you just press down your "a" key and it gives you options of choosing an "a" with various accents over the top. Same with the "o." Why didn't it work? Maybe I'll stick a card in my GIANT SLOT and see if that helps.
Anyway. I called AT&T to cancel my contract and ended up getting a phone that is (a) not an iPhone but (7) is faster (4G instead of the lowly 3G I had) and does pretty much what my iPhone does. For some reason I got it free, AND my monthly payments are lower now, too. So really that did not work out to be so bad.
I was really tempted, when they led me to the website where I could pick out another phone, to get this one that had a gem on it? And when you get a phone call? Or a text? And the only person who ever texts me is Hulk, and usually that's a sext, but whatever. When you get some kind of incoming message? The gem lights up. And it's specifially made so the gem hangs out your purse.
Seeing as I am not 17 nor Pia Zadora (hello, again, '90s), I did not opt for this selection. I got the Intense or the Intrigue or the Interlude or maybe it was called the Fascinate. I don't even remember. All I know is I need a new phone cover because that is very important.
Oh, and if you know me in real life, I no longer know your phone number, as all your info is basically eau de toilette.
So that is the story of why I should not be given electronics. Or indoor plumbing.
I thought we'd better enjoy this snapshot again. I WENT TO A LOT OF TROUBLE TO GET THIS TO YOU.
Love,
June
P.S. Giant slot
