I have just lurched into the third millennium: I got a cell phone after years of saying I'd never get one. I objected to cell phones for three reasons. One, I am in general a late adopter, skeptical about new gadgets and new fashions. Two, it's easy to be rude with cell phones and I find it easy enough to be accidentally rude without one. Three, people say that once you have a cell phone, you wonder how you ever lived without one, and I try to keep to a minimum the number of things I feel I can't live without.
But. I have a job that takes me out into the community, providing therapy in kids' homes, and a forgotten or belatedly canceled appointment can throw off my whole morning. I am a student at a university an hour from here, which means a lot of driving through farm country in our '96 van. If you have a cell phone, you may not have noticed the decline of the pay phone -- it's become much harder to find a place to make a call. More than once I have been asked, "Don't you have a cell phone?"
Now I do, along with the vast majority of people my age in this country. Which inspires this meme: let's talk about technology. Answer in the comments if you don't have a blog, or take it back to your blog if you'd like.
How long have you had a cell phone? (If you don't have one, why not? What would prompt you to get one?)
How much do you use it?
Do you get jittery without it?
How many computers in your house?
How much time do you spend on the computer in a day?
How does the time break down? (work/play/email/blogs/etc.)
If your computer malfunctions, do you-
Log in as root and fix the problem in a few swift keystrokes?
Get some online help and fix it yourself with slightly slower keystrokes?
Enlist outside help? from whom? How does he or she respond when you ask for assistance?
Opt for the wishful thinking computer repair strategy, also known as the reboot-with-fingers-crossed strategy?
What techno-gadget would you most like to own?
Of those you own (including PDA, iPod, etc.), which would you miss most acutely if you dropped it in the lake accidentally while canoeing?
What's something you'll never buy? (Careful with the nevers, though, says this brand new cell phone owner.)
I am answering in the comments. Please play along at home if you're at all inclined; I am going to tag Summer (who was also a cell phone holdout when we met two years ago), Arwen, Tracy, Alicia, and Erin (who has an algorithm for preparing snap beans and is my vote for most likely to repair her own computer).
This is Joe, being a box turtle. No idea if the pun was deliberate. If he looks tired and saggy, it could be because he woke up two hours early today.
These are the socks I made our goddaughter as a First Communion gift. In the card I said, I know socks are a weird First Communion gift, but a girl can only use so many rosaries. Besides, they are prayer socks, which means that every time I sat down to knit I asked God to pour out his grace on you, to draw you into ever-deeper union with Him, all your life long. And who knows but that "feet clad in readiness for the gospel of peace" is a scriptural reference to nifty handknit socks? Also, "how beautiful are the feet of them..."? Sounds like handknits to me.
This is Pete a couple of days ago, cooling off with a slice of cold watermelon. We are heading outside to enjoy the milder weather here in Gladlyville. Catch you later.
For the Fourth we took the train to the state capital (big excitement for Pete, to board the train instead of just waving at it). We heard a reading of the Declaration of Independence (remember the scene in Little Town on the Prairie when the Ingalls girls recite the Declaration along with the reader? can you imagine an educational system in which that kind of memorization was routine?) and saw some well-done Civil War exhibits, which provided me with a little perspective on my angst about the current situation. We picnicked on the capitol grounds, with watermelon and potato salad. I believe the eating of potato salad on July 4 is mentioned in the Constitution as a requirement for US citizenship. If it's not, I propose an amendment.
Though my amendment is likely to fail, my recipe is not. Give it a whirl.
Thomas Jefferson's Favorite Potato Salad and Probably Abraham Lincoln's Too
My very favorite potato salad includes bacon, so I usually start by frying up a couple of slices. This is optional, though. I cube eight medium potatoes and boil them for about ten minutes in heavily salted water. Salting the heck out of the water is one of the keys to delicious potato salad -- I don't think you can get boiled potatoes salted properly after they're cooked. I usually boil my eggs, about three of them, in the same pot with the potatoes. While everything's aboil, make the dressing. Combine a cup of mayo (or a mix of mayo and sour cream, or I suppose you could use yogurt if you were so inclined) with the juice of half a lemon and a healthy shake of Old Bay -- enough to tint the mayo a pretty pale coral. [ETA: I love lemon and have a high tolerance for tart. You might want to start with less lemon juice and see how it suits you.] Drain the pot and fish out the eggs. While the potatoes are hot, if you are feeling decadent and are not expecting any cardiologists at your party, you can sprinkle a spoonful of bacon fat over them. If this strikes you as repulsive or if you worry about saturated fat, skip that step and just toss them gently in the dressing while they're still warm. Finely mince a stalk of celery (for crunch) and about three green onions (for punch). When the eggs are cool enough to handle, crumble them in along with the bacon. Stir it all together and save some for me!
Lauren and Sarah tagged me for the meme where I tell you eight odd things about me. Last fall I did the meme where I told you six weird things about me, though, and despite what my husband might tell you, I'm just not that weird. I asked my two oldest boys to help me figure out what to post, and the 7yo came up empty. "You're a pretty standard mother," he told me. My husband, in constrast, said (didn't I predict this a couple of sentences ago?), "You're weird in lots of ways, but I can't come up with them on demand." So I guess I'm on my own. Here are eight things about me:
Artichokes are my favorite vegetable. Mmmm, I love artichokes. I also love garlic, raw and fierce. There is no such thing as too much garlic. If I am making a recipe to suit my own tastes, I will jack up the garlic until it gives me an endorphin buzz.
I went to high school with Morgan Spurlock, of "Super Size Me" fame.
When I run, my face gets bright red. Bright bright red -- all but my eyebrows, which are fairly blond and therefore stand out most bizarrely. Perhaps this is why I run at night.
I still wear a T-shirt I bought at age 14, when I was Sadie Finch in my high school's production of "Up the Down Staircase." For my costume, I wore an orange and green plaid minidress that my mother had been saving in the back of her closet since about 1969. "That," said the drama teacher, "is the ugliest dress I have ever seen."
I love foreign languages but am not really fluent in anything but English. In college I used to dream that I was in an unfamiliar place, unable to speak English and thus obliged to get by with my bits and pieces. (While it may be a fun party trick to recite the opening of the Iliad in Greek, "Rage-- goddess, sing the rage of Achilles son of Peleus" doesn't get you very far in a dream where you need a hostel and a bank.)
Similarly, I can play a little bit on several different instruments but am not really proficient on any of them. My grandmother once said to me, "Imagine where you'd be if you'd focused on one instrument instead of scattering your energies around." I wonder.
The topic most likely to trigger an angry conversation between my husband and me is our desktop computer, which, to his everlasting dismay, I back up in a piecemeal and erratic fashion. He would like me to set up a cron job so the computer will back itself up systematically and at regular intervals. Got a favorite tutorial, anyone?
I loathe smoked cheese. When I was pregnant with my second son (the one who's 7 now), I bought some smoked cheddar right before the morning sickness struck. Oh, the VILENESS of that smoked cheddar -- I was afraid to open the fridge because I might get a whiff of it and hurl violently. It just occurred to me this weekend that I am never going to like smoked cheese and so I might as well stop trying.
I'm not going to tag anyone because this one's been around for a while, but jump right in and share your own quirks if you'd like to. And your backing up strategies, if you're so inclined.