Since it's been a while...
I promise this post will be way less frustrated/bitchy/almost-whiny.
--
It's Ch!li Bowl Weekend; last night I took a really cool picture of what I always think of when I think of the Ch!li Bowl, but I guess I hit the wrong button and my phone didn't save it. Whups.
--
My phone seems to be okay with the exception of a few scratches, and it closes properly now too. I checked around on Eb@y thinkin' that I might replace it if I found one cheap enough, but I've yet to win any auctions. I had one bid cancelled, then the seller removed ALL of their auction items and sent me (and probably several other people) a semi-literate message with directions to a website where they'd supposedly "can offer you the most reasonable discount to make you get more profits." They also say "We are expecting for your business."
I think they may have hired a certain blonde beauty queen (of "and like such as the Iraq" fame) to write their ad copy.
I think I may just stick with my scratched-up Motorola 'til I can get my hands on an iPhone.
--
Apparently the Spammers are moving into text messaging -- I've had several strange text messages from strange e-mail addresses about p0rn and vitamins. Also, someone I actually know just got my number and has been sending me lots of texts which claim that if I do not pass them on to everybody I know, I'll die. Seriously, do highschool kids really believe that shit?? I don't think I was into falling for chain letters when I was eighteen; I don't remember ever being worried about dying from not sending along some joke about how men are like toilets. I was worried about flunking history, being on-time for 6:30 AM band rehearsals, and getting home in time to check the mailbox before my mom did so I could hide that letter about me flunking history; I knew better than to think I'd "regret it" if I didn't pass along a chain letter.
I remember passing notes about stupid stuff like what we'd have for lunch or what we'd do over the weekend or how first hour was hell when Mrs. K. seemed to hate me 'cause I couldn't type without lookin' at my hands. Just in case she remembers me at all, all these years later, I am looking at the screen and not at my hands.
Most of my texts may not be far off from that; with things like "Are y'all goin' tonight?" or "I'm skippin'" or "I want Enchiladas!!!" they're not all tremendously important, but they're one-on-one and not to the whole phonebook. Some are actually close to important with phrases like "I'm thinkin' about ya, call me if you need any help," or "Can you tell me how to fix this damn computer?" I'm not afraid to admit that I probably use a lot of my text messages (which I pay a bill for) for what some people might consider stupid stuff; but I don't see joking back and forth with a good friend to be as much of a waste of characters as a blanket whole-phonebook message of "The LOVE of ur LiFE will CaLL u at 10:50 pm, KiSS u 2morrow or ASK u out. If u break the chain u will regret it send to 10 people"
Uhm, no. He knows better than to call at ten-'til-eleven unless there's a serious problem.
I'm not passing it on, and I seriously doubt I'll regret it.
--
Rant-rant-rant...
--
I talked to one of the girls from my highschool a few nights ago (after a mystery text message with real names in it, oddly enough), and she asked me about some pictures from school or from the reunion. I still can't believe the baby she was carrying when she sat beside me in Mrs. K.'s first hour is thirteen now... I also can't believe that every time I think I'm starting in on a "disjointed post" the pieces find a way to tie themselves together, but anyway...
Last night I spent a good bit of time looking through my giant-box-o-pictures (some from the late 70's ranging to about 2001 or so) and trying to pull out some that I thought she might want copies of. I found a few, even though those prints have been shuffled together like about forty decks of cards. I also asked myself several strange questions like "How the hell did I ever get my hair to do that?" and "How the hell was I ever willing to leave the house in those pants??"
--
I still need to find my digitals from the reunion, but the digital camera was fairly new then and that was several memory cards ago...
--
More later. _\,,/
--
It's Ch!li Bowl Weekend; last night I took a really cool picture of what I always think of when I think of the Ch!li Bowl, but I guess I hit the wrong button and my phone didn't save it. Whups.
--
My phone seems to be okay with the exception of a few scratches, and it closes properly now too. I checked around on Eb@y thinkin' that I might replace it if I found one cheap enough, but I've yet to win any auctions. I had one bid cancelled, then the seller removed ALL of their auction items and sent me (and probably several other people) a semi-literate message with directions to a website where they'd supposedly "can offer you the most reasonable discount to make you get more profits." They also say "We are expecting for your business."
I think they may have hired a certain blonde beauty queen (of "and like such as the Iraq" fame) to write their ad copy.
I think I may just stick with my scratched-up Motorola 'til I can get my hands on an iPhone.
--
Apparently the Spammers are moving into text messaging -- I've had several strange text messages from strange e-mail addresses about p0rn and vitamins. Also, someone I actually know just got my number and has been sending me lots of texts which claim that if I do not pass them on to everybody I know, I'll die. Seriously, do highschool kids really believe that shit?? I don't think I was into falling for chain letters when I was eighteen; I don't remember ever being worried about dying from not sending along some joke about how men are like toilets. I was worried about flunking history, being on-time for 6:30 AM band rehearsals, and getting home in time to check the mailbox before my mom did so I could hide that letter about me flunking history; I knew better than to think I'd "regret it" if I didn't pass along a chain letter.
I remember passing notes about stupid stuff like what we'd have for lunch or what we'd do over the weekend or how first hour was hell when Mrs. K. seemed to hate me 'cause I couldn't type without lookin' at my hands. Just in case she remembers me at all, all these years later, I am looking at the screen and not at my hands.
Most of my texts may not be far off from that; with things like "Are y'all goin' tonight?" or "I'm skippin'" or "I want Enchiladas!!!" they're not all tremendously important, but they're one-on-one and not to the whole phonebook. Some are actually close to important with phrases like "I'm thinkin' about ya, call me if you need any help," or "Can you tell me how to fix this damn computer?" I'm not afraid to admit that I probably use a lot of my text messages (which I pay a bill for) for what some people might consider stupid stuff; but I don't see joking back and forth with a good friend to be as much of a waste of characters as a blanket whole-phonebook message of "The LOVE of ur LiFE will CaLL u at 10:50 pm, KiSS u 2morrow or ASK u out. If u break the chain u will regret it send to 10 people"
Uhm, no. He knows better than to call at ten-'til-eleven unless there's a serious problem.
I'm not passing it on, and I seriously doubt I'll regret it.
--
Rant-rant-rant...
--
I talked to one of the girls from my highschool a few nights ago (after a mystery text message with real names in it, oddly enough), and she asked me about some pictures from school or from the reunion. I still can't believe the baby she was carrying when she sat beside me in Mrs. K.'s first hour is thirteen now... I also can't believe that every time I think I'm starting in on a "disjointed post" the pieces find a way to tie themselves together, but anyway...
Last night I spent a good bit of time looking through my giant-box-o-pictures (some from the late 70's ranging to about 2001 or so) and trying to pull out some that I thought she might want copies of. I found a few, even though those prints have been shuffled together like about forty decks of cards. I also asked myself several strange questions like "How the hell did I ever get my hair to do that?" and "How the hell was I ever willing to leave the house in those pants??"
--
I still need to find my digitals from the reunion, but the digital camera was fairly new then and that was several memory cards ago...
--
More later. _\,,/
Labels: Disjointed, Memories, Ranting
posted by Debbie at 8:41 AM
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