Embarrassing, but true. We all vent a bit about things that aren’t much more than minor annoyances. You know the type of thing: OMG, my Kindle died., or That freaking GPS took me to the wrong address., or my personal favourite, What? I have to pay for Wi-Fi on the the cruise?
I’ve been known to weep and moan when the internet goes down, but the award for Best In Class Whiner goes to my husband. He walks around the house, saying really rude things to our Google speaker.
Just between you and I… I don’t think Google likes him.
She answers his requests with a “Sorry, I can’t help you with that yet.” She refuses to let him add anything to our shopping list, telling him that she doesn’t recognize his voice.
To be fair to my husband, Google can be a bit of a princess. She’s moody and mercurial. Some days, she’ll accommodate him, be all sweetness and light. She’ll even let him add to his calendar. The next day, she won’t acknowledge his existence, telling him that she’s not authorized to answer his request.
Totally frustrating, true. Every second day, he’s in the Google Home App activating voice recognition—again. I sympathize…really.
I’m filled with admiration for his determination. He won’t admit defeat, won’t give up.
God forbid, he goes back to tapping appointments into his phone—gasp!—himself.
It’s a slippery slope, one becomes two, becomes a collection, becomes … oh, my God, when did I buy all this stuff?
I’ve fallen a time or two myself so I understand the climb. It’s starts out innocently enough with one particular object or interest. One of my falls down that slippery slope began with a book, a biography of the actor, Montgomery Clift. Within a matter of months, I had collected every movie the man had ever made and had a drawer full of absolute necessities like a Montgomery Clift watch, cuff links, and license plate frame.
Fickle creature that I am, eventually I abandoned Monty and moved on, but some collectors are more faithful than I.
Andrea Katelnikoff has been collecting Barbies since 1988. At last count, she had over 3,000 dolls, all stored and displayed on the second floor addition to her house purpose built for the dolls.
Collectors don’t subscribe to the philosophy that less is more, but when, I’m wondering, is enough enough?
No offense to Barbara or Neil, but you can skip the real flowers. Bring me gelato shaped into rose petals and we’ll talk.
Cold, sweet decadence. One taste and you’re making the kind of sounds usually reserved for the bedroom. It’s that good.
If you see one of these winged cupids flying from a store front awning, count yourself blessed, and act accordingly.
If, like mine, your part of the world exists in the desert of Amorino deprivation, get on a plane, a train, a mule. Whatever it takes because Amorino artisanal gelato isn’t a dessert, it’s an experience.
I’d like to tell you that on a recent trip to New York, I spent all my time traipsing through places like the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and the Guggenheim, but I’d be lying.
I spent an obscene amount of time on the Upper West Side, making pilgrimages to Amorino for gelato and to Levain Bakery for cookies—but that’s another story 🙂
It’s that time of year, winter coats are packed away, and windows are opened. Grass thinks about turning green, buds pop out on trees, and bicycles appear on sidewalks.
Everything feels bright, fresh—and your blog? Uh…yeah, that’s what I thought. Don’t worry Hugh’s got you covered. If you haven’t read his post, 21 Ways to Spring Clean Your Blog, check it out here.
As per Hugh’s suggestion #12, I waded through my old posts, and trashed everything from my first year on WordPress, except…the answers to one of those blog award questions. You remember, the Tell Us 5 Things About Yourself request?
Reading those answers now, after five years, some of them still true, some not —Found Smiles.
Sharing the nostalgia and hopefully, the smiles…
I’m 4’10”—if I’m having a wild hair day.
I’ve taken years of classes in French and Spanish, and still can’t speak either of them.
I can’t remember song lyrics anymore, and that seriously screws up my shower renditions.
I say, “Hi” to dogs when I pass them on the street.
I love to go—anywhere. Give me ten minutes to pack a bag and I’m on the plane. (If you think it takes me ten minutes to pack, I’ve got bridge in New York I want to sell you.)
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
Fool me twice in a matter of minutes? Embarrassing.
Every weekday morning, I wake up to a tidy little curated collection of news articles courtesy of the CBC. Last Monday, there was an interesting piece that stated the PM would be addressing the U.N. with the suggestion that they move the headquarters from N.Y. to Toronto. I didn’t see why the U.N. would want to leave N.Y., but hey, more jobs for Toronto.
That was astonishing enough, but two articles down, I found an announcement that Disney would be building a $6.5 billion theme park in the Toronto Islands. Incredible.
Yep, you guessed it, hog-wash. I was hoodwinked, bamboozled, and duped. Twice!!
I’m thinking of contacting the Canadian Oxford Dictionary people to have my picture printed under Gullible.
Next year, April Fool’s Day will have to survive without me. I won’t be reading the news 🙂