Thursday, February 3, 2011


Just as I'm getting the girls in to their jammies last night, there's a knock on the door and Karma (by the way I'm trying not to call her "fat dog" anymore because Gina says I'm giving her a complex. ... and her diet/excersise plan seems to be working because she looks taller these days meaning her belly is further from the ground) goes balistic. I open it to see a shaggy young man and a clip board. Now, I'm skeptical of everything. I think every phone call, every knock on the door, every e-mail is a scam of kind and so I tend to go in to shut down mode. But as I've got one kid in my arms and the other wrapped around my leg (other leg trying to keep Karma at bay) he says something that triggers my weakness: "I'm trying to go to law school". Damnit! He found the chink in the armor. So I read through his form and the fine print and I told him that I want nothing to do with the blasted newspaper and I'd rather just sponsor him outright. As I let him in (on top of telling me how cute my kids were, which only earned him more brownie points) he said "you must like Apple." He was referring the the iMac I had fired up while I edit our friends wedding video from Cancun last month, the iPad playing Raffi songs in the living room and the iPod charging on the table. "It's an understatement," I told him. In fact, after he left and the girls went down to bed, Gina came home from teaching and we made our plans for the night. Verizon is launching the iPhone and as Verizon customers we got a first crack at it beginning 12am pst this morning (3a est). She was still on the up from class so we agreed we'd just wait up rather than go to bed and get up again at midnight. So we trudged through bad television and few glasses of wine (by the way, basic cable gets pretty raunchy around 11:30pm) until the time came. Giddy like a kid on Christmas morning I ran through the order process, making sure I netted myself one of the first shipments. Then something funny happened. It told me my ship to address was incorrect. Then it told my my mom's address was incorrect. Then my mother-in-laws. I ran through every address I could think of, stopping short of putting in 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington D.C., and they all errored out. I tried the 800 number for customer service and it had crashed. So a little after 1 am I called it quits and went to bed iPhoneless and dejected. My frustration during the process had gotten the best of me and I'd acted like a jerk so Gina had abandoned me long before. So all alone, in the dark, as the rest of the world was snug in their bed I hung my head and moped my way their too. Alarm went off at 5am, I pulled up the site and ordered the phones in about 2 minutes with a bowl of Cheerios in the other hand. That's how easy it was. So this morning I have an iPhone on the way, a Starbucks in hand and an idiot label securely attached to my forehead because iSuck.

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