You don't need to know me well to realize that not much aggrevates me. I joke about hating orange jell-o and Canada. I rant theatrically over dirty socks every now and again. Sometimes I pretend to hate UltraGrrl, enjoying the thought of having an arch enemy... but the reality is that I don't have enemies. At least, none that I'm aware of (it's a possibility that UltraGrrl hates me as well), and I don't really hate anything. But while I don't necessarily hate anything, there are certain things that I have a massive distaste for. Automated telephone systems, tech support outsourced to foreign lands, black olives, and toilet seat covers are some of the many. But I've recently learned that amongst those things is the wireless blackberry.
I will never, ever own a blackberry. Be assured.
Now, while bitter statments such as this tend to roll off the tongues of so many non-promise-keepers these days, I really and truly mean it. Seriously. Believe me. Mark my words: I will never own a blackberry. Frankly, I'd be pretty happy if I never even saw a damn blackberry again as long as I live.
I've spent the past two and a half weeks trying to get a blackberry to function (not my blackberry) and shamefully, I was frustrated on more than one occasion nearly to tears.
I lose it. I become rude. I become nasty. I make people second-guess their career choices (I'm not entirely responsible for this - their career choices are mostly responsible for this - but I will take a bit of credit). Basically, I'm a bitch. But I sometimes feel that I'm entitled. I spent what I swore would be my last time on the phone with Earthlink wireless and their posse of techies out in south seas. I tried to threaten them, but they knew the great distance between us and the little amount of power that I could possibly expel that far. Drat.
When I hung up with Earthlink, I flip flopped my way down the stairs to head to my car and found it raining. No, pouring. Sheets of rain were coming down and filling the streets with a rushing creek of muddy rainwater. My car was parked two blocks away and I saw a man walking my route, past his ankles in water. I looked down to examine my attire. halter top, denim jacket, yellow skirt, black flip flops. OK. Let's assess here. All three of my umbrellas are in the trunk of my car, conveniently. My flip flops are goners. There's no way I can walk in them once they get wet. It would be a nightmare of both flip and flop, to their greatest degree. I waited for awhile to see if it would let up - during this time I realized how frustrated I was when my mom called and I accidentally dropped the F-bomb while on the phone with her... she didn't seem to notice.
I made a decision to give it a shot, figuring that I get wet in the shower anyway. I took off my jacket and rolled it up and tucked it securely under my arm (I knew it would be nice to have something to dry off with once I reached my car). Flip flops in hand, I opened the door and braved the two blocks.
The street was even more flooded than I gave it credit for. I had to lift up my skirt and walk through the nearly knee-deep swirling waters. A man wearing brown trousers and no shirt stood inexplicably in his doorway watching me pass and I strangely grew a little embarassed. I looked down to be sure of my footing only to realize that I couldn't see the ground anyhow. I was amazed at the amount of water! At that moment, all I could think was what a shame it was that I didn't have my camera with me right then. I so desperately wanted a picture of myself standing in that water, my skirt gathered around my legs; flip flops, phone, keys all in hand... it just would have been the kind of picture I'd want of myself.
Walking through knee deep rainwater and sitting, soaking wet in my car somehow put me in a much better state of mind. I felt so relaxed and my frustration over crummy earthlink and their evil blackberries subsided. The world was fun again. And good. And amazing.
So I headed home to sell jewelry and did just that. A woman purchased a pair of sterling silver hoops right after I got to the store. I told her they looked nice on her (and they really did). The purchase was only for $35, but it still made me feel better. It was the first sale I'd had at all.
Rain, rain, I wish you'd stay - I don't mind you here all day.
| Currently listening : |
By Nouvelle Vague
Release date: By 03 August, 2004