Do Not Disturb

We all know that technology is not my strength. The only time that any of my gadgets required for convenient functioning in today’s world are updated is if Sometimes Boyfriend is around. So…nothing is updated.

Any time that little box pops up in the right hand corner of my MacBook to tell me that it is time to update and asks: Now? In an hour? Try Tonight? or Try Tomorrow? I always say tomorrow, but what I really mean is NEVER, BITCH. I never want to update because then I can’t find things.

Case in point: iTunes. If you mistakenly update your iTunes, it is basically impossible to find or play music until you’ve hemorrhaged an hour of your time clicking around just so you can play your “pump up mix” before engaging with society. UGH PEOPLE ARE THE WORST.

In a crazy turn of luck/Find My iPhone genius, I managed to keep my original iPhone 5 until it was time for an upgrade. Toward the end of that 2-year cycle, my phone stopped ringing sometimes. I think it is because the memory was so full of music and other things that the phone just was unable to function. (No, I didn’t update that regularly either…I know. I am a terrible person.) This actually worked out because it made me seem busy or unavailable when Sometimes Boyfriend called/texted late night. (I was absolutely not doing anything but being annoyed at my fucked up phone.) Anyway, the joyous day came when it was time for a new one. Huzzah!!! I learned a bit from the last one that a) I use it for mostly checking my email, flipping through Tumblr (nothing PG) and sending text messages filled with everything ranging from the “Be there in 5” to some pretty hot and heavy sexting. Phones! Yay! I also use it to take photos. So, for this new fancy iPhone 6 I upped my data and memory to double my pleasure. And lately, that lousy thing has not been ringing. WHYYYY??!!

So, you probably noticed, it is Christmas time! Basically the worst time ever to try to go to the Apple store. AT THE MALL. (Read: MALL PARKING LOT.) For that reason, and because I am a lousy adult sometimes, I was planning on suffering through a few more weeks of missed texts and phone calls. Or the alternative: obsessively looking at my phone to see if I missed anything. Kind of a fun activity if you like masochism.

But alas, yesterday, I found myself at the mall. After attempts at shopping local and shopping online, I found myself in a situation where the only option was the dreaded mall. Dun Dun Dunn.

And I did it! The parking lot was a madhouse so I just drove as far away as possible and mentally prepared myself to be soaking wet walking back to the car since the weather forecast called for heavy rains – and it is New Orleans so just because the sun is out now, does not mean a thing for later

Actually when I was walking up to the mall a very practical lady asked me if I was leaving. Pro move – slowly follow someone, preferably sort of youthful, to their car to call dibs on their spot. To her dismay I just was making the long haul in.

After much debate because “I don’t even know where the Apple store is” and other random excuses, I literally walked past it and figured, “Ugh I guess so…” And entered to multiple happy greetings and then ultimately found the correct iPad bearing helper that is color coded Green for tech support. I did my best to hide my outright rage to be even standing in this store and asked politely how long the wait would be. He asked what the problem was, and I told him. And then he looked at my phone, laughed a little. And shared this amazing tidbit of information:

“Do you see that half moon at the top?” he says, “That means your phone is on Do Not Disturb, so no one can reach you unless they call repeatedly or they are on your favorites list.”

Me: I actually did LOL. And then, because I have moments of practicality, asked him to please show me where that function is so that if I ever accidentally find a half moon again, I can turn it off myself. OR, since everyone sucks anyway, maybe I just turn that right back on because lets be real: DO NOT DISTURB.




Bad Science

Disclaimer: In case you are not aware, I am not a scientist, nor have I completed any research on the following subject aside from being a participant in life. For better or worse, I am alive and thus am in the midst of the biggest experiment of them all – my own.

Here is my point – I am annoyed by the amount of “studies” that keep popping up in my news feed about how one glass of wine has the health equivalent of an hour at the gym (or some variation thereof). Because, well, that is a big pile of steaming shit.

Yeah, I’m calling out the bullshit. The titles of these articles are misleading and are being jokingly (or seriously??) spread around the internet to all of us who love to get our drink on as a “high five!” and “you go, girl!” for getting down on a glass of wine every night.

But you know what, kids? Most of the people high fiving are not having a glass, they are having a bottle, so no high five to me. I literally will drink that whole bottle, it will more than likely be a nice bottle and enjoy the hell out of it. And then, do you know what? I will go work out the next day. Maybe twice.

I do not keep my svelte figure by drinking a glass of wine a day. I keep my figure tight by being a bad-ass at cooking healthy and delicious and hitting up Pure Barre many times per week and then tack on multiple miles of jogging and biking to that routine. Of course it is only fair to factor in genetics, because lets face it, I was set up for a pretty rockin’ bod if I put my mind to it so I’m not going to discount the luck of the draw.

If I cut out an hour of exercise because I decided to have just one glass of wine per night, I would not get nearly enough physical activity to sustain my mental or physical health. (Spoiler: I’m not currently getting laid.) I use my jogs to burn through calories and clear my head and Pure Barre to tone everything else. Mentally and physically, I require workouts and I’d probably go crazy without it. Literally bat shit cray.

I DO enjoy a glass of wine sometimes. And okay, while it usually ends in a bottle (two?), it does not always. And MAYBE that one glass of wine is good for my heart and possibly can be construed as a lovely relaxant to take away the stress of life (LEGALIZE POT ALREADY!!) and aid in better sleep habits but I don’t know if that is “equivalent” in health benefits to one hour at the gym. Sounds pretty fishy.

Since this is my experiment, I can’t weigh the two because I don’t drink one glass of wine every day, certainly don’t sleep 8 hours every day and I also don’t have a “control group” second version of myself to compare it to. And without that, it is BAD SCIENCE.

Damn you, Emily!!!! (WAG MY FIST IN THE AIR)

Awhile back I got a promotion, and with it a sweet new phone. I had a sometimes-boyfriend and it was looking like he might become an all-the-time boyfriend. I really liked this guy so it seemed like things were on the up and up.

Turns out I was wrong. Sometimes-boyfriend decided that he didn’t want to be my all-the-time boyfriend, but since he’s such a stand up guy*, offered to still help set up my new fancy iPhone.

Great, fantastic. It was fun, we had a good time and now I had a cool new iPhone like many of my hip friends. Sometimes-boyfriend set the whole thing up – my email, Facebook, Instagram, the Find My iPhone and also got me a few cool apps I’d never heard of. I was good to go and set off to learn about hashtags. #awesome.

Time passes and eventually, because it’s me, I lose my phone. “DAMN IT WORLD (whiskey?!)!” I bemoan, as I shuffle through my sheets, my bag from last night and every crevice of my couch. But then…a light. This phone is not like all of my other basic phones; this phone can be tracked! Huzzah! I win.

But wait, I’ve never used the Find My iPhone before. So I take to my computer, looking on iTunes, searching the web. WHERE CAN THIS MAGICAL MAP BE!?

I can just hear my phone taunting me. “I’m not like a regular phone, I’m a cool phone.” (Boobs bouncing in my face.)

Finally, I Google search, and voilà here is a map and it has a dot with an iPhone. But wait… it says Emily’s iPhone. I look further, not only does it show Emily’s iPhone, but it shows also shows her iPad, her MacBook Pro… ALL OF THE GADGETS! Ugh this bitch Emily has all of the toys and still I can’t find my phone. I’m pissed. Sometimes-boyfriend clearly set up my phone wrong. Who does this girl Emily think she is, anyway? Sure he was my sometimes-boyfriend but seriously, WTF.

Naturally, I take to g-chat to unleash my fury on sometimes-no-longer-boyfriend. “WHO IS EMILY!?” I want to know. “WHY CAN I ONLY FIND HER STUFF ON THE MAP!?”

He is confused. He literally has no idea what I am talking about. It’s confounding. The conversation is basically pointless and comes to an unsatisfying end.

End story.

Just kidding. I know…you are wondering, “Who is Emily?” and “Did you find your phone?” So I will tell you. Turns out, Emily is the default used to preview the Fine My iPhone app. My phone was at the bar where I left it and I could find MY phone by logging into the Cloud. And my dignity? Well… this was all too funny for me to worry about that.


I did actually apologize for the whole g-chat thing. But still… Emily, you kind of suck.