I Want To Visit That Lone BlackBerry Store

Did anyone else read that sad story yesterday in The Wall Street Journal about that lone BlackBerry store in Farmington Hills, Michigan?  I read that and immediately looked on Delta‘s website to see how much it would cost to take a pilgrimage to what was supposed to be the first of many BlackBerry stores all across America (excluding their seven airport stores).  That won’t be happening any time soon, however, because I’d have to drive to Richmond in order to fly to Detroit.  That, and I don’t have time right now to do that.  Maybe I’ll go later this year, but I already know I’ll be going alone since I only know ten people at most, including myself, who still have use a Blackberry.

Personally, I don’t like the iPhone because I want a real keyboard, hence I’m still stickin’ with the Berry.  But, only because little Debbie from Season One of SNL nagged so much, I finally caved and agreed to let him buy me an iPad, partly because he offered and I wanted to call his bluff and partly because I’ve been told I’m not getting a new Mac for a few years so this will hopefully take some of the load off of my aging workhorse.  Plus, it’ll be great for traveling since I won’t have to take a computer anymore on trips.  I’m not really sure what I’m going to use this iPad for when I’m not traveling other than to read the newspapers I already read on my iPod because I’m still keeping my Kindle because I don’t want any distractions when I’m reading.  We shall see how this goes once it and I meet one another in May.

All that said about the iPhone, I did love that new ads they made with Zooey Deschanel and Samuel L. Jackson:

Movin’ right along, I hate April.  It’s starts with a day that makes gullible people like myself seem beyond dumb, it gives us awkward weather for which we can’t dress (it’s not too cold to wear a jacket, but not too hot to wear shorts), pollen, and if you’re a university student, April means papers; lots and lots of unnecessary papers.  Oh yeah, and income tax day, which I don’t think anyone other than the employees of the IRS look forward to each year.

Yeah, I’ll admit it.  These massive papers I’m currently avoiding like the plague are such a waste of time and energy.  But, I need good grades on them so unfortunately, I have to write them.  Besides, Justin tells me that my problems are trivial and I shouldn’t complain.

Speaking of His Royal Unemployed, Justin is getting ready to move to his new apartment this weekend.  This is going to be hard for Justin because he has some stuff and an extremely small car.  I’m going to enjoy hearing how he does it, especially since he has actual furniture.  I’d say I wish Justin well with this “endeavor,” but I’m really dying to hear some story about how something fell out of the back of his car while on the two mile drive to his new apartment and reeks havoc on the brick-paved streets of Winter Park.  I know it’s mean and how can I think something like that, but in reality, y’all were thinkin’ it too!

Grace, on the other hand, had a most amusing last week.  And by amusing, I mean she’ll look back on it and laugh in a few months.  So Grace had this horse show in Spotsylvania, VA, a city adjacent to Fredericksburg made of two sides: there’s this very beautiful country side that is part of Virginia horse territory; the other side is filled with cheap motels, bad fast food and chain restaurants, gas stations galore, and that’s about it.  We stop there on our way to and from Maryland when we go to the Preakness and Mother and I were the 100,000th customers at the Friendly’s there in Spotsylvania; we get two milkshakes and use the bathroom before heading to the nearest gas station.

So Grace goes up there and makes her hotel reservation by calling hotels.com (don’t even get me started on that little detail) and arrives at whatever hotel where she was supposed to stay only to find out that they don’t have her in their computer system, but perhaps it’s at the other one not too far away.  When she arrives at the other location, they only have her staying there one night and it had a unique scent that was not tolerable.  Obviously, this was not going to work, so Grace gets back in her truck to start searching for any streamlined chain hotel and even though there are literally thousands upon thousands of usually empty hotel/motel rooms in Spotsylvania thanks to its location just off of I-95, they were all sold out!  Even the Ramada Inn that has the most terrifying, 80s kind of Vergas-style swimming pool in the middle of the hotel and therefore reeks of chlorine was booked solid.

Apparently, there were three reunions/meetings in town that night and so Grace has to drive almost to Richmond, which is a good 30-45 minutes away, and mind you, she’s just spent the whole day taking care of a very spoiled horse sans a militia of helpers so she was exhausted to say the least.  Princess ends up staying at a Quality Inn outside of Richmond in a “smoking room with a bloodstain on the carpet.”  She and I both agreed that it would have probably been a safer and smarter idea to just sleep in the backseat of the truck.

Back here in the land of all things Jefferson (where today, the only professor I’ve had while attending UVa who had yet to mention his class’s connection to Mr. Jefferson finally made the connection.  I swear, there must be something in the contracts of every professor at the university that requires them to make a connection of some kind to him because every single class has managed to somehow.), this past Friday was Founder’s Day, which celebrates Mr. Jefferson’s birthday.

Mother, who was here for two days with friends, and I went up to Monticello, which was a lot of fun and we just walked around and enjoyed the perfect weather and views.  Unfortunately, this was a somewhat spontaneous decision so I didn’t have my camera along with me.  We’re going to go back and take photos this time.  On the upside, UVa students can visit Monticello for free, which is nice since it costs $24 to see the house and grounds, which is kind of steep if you ask me.

Alas, I have to go because I have to compile a five-seven page annotated bibliography that’s due tomorrow, so until next time…

-JD

Justin Wants an iPhone and I’ve Begun Calling People “Kid.” Oh How the Mighty Have Aged

So until yesterday, any mention of the iPhone just seemed to make Justin mad.  He gave me these long rants speeches about it was basically the devil’s work because everyone had one and it was just bad.  It had nothing to do with not being able to get one since he had AT&T, the exclusive iPhone carrier at the time; he just kept complaining about who knows what.  To be honest, I tuned out after word eight, if I even made it that far.

Well, now that Stevie is resting peacefully in iHeaven (thank you to whomever I follow on Twitter for writing that) and laughing his tuchus off at my BlackBerry’s system failure this week, Justin has suddenly decided that he has to have one.  And of course, because he thinks my early Alzheimer’s has advanced to the fact that I don’t remember what I ate for dinner, Justin tells me this as though he has always worshipped the iPhone in the same way that people worshipped the Nike Air Jordans (remember those?)!  He claims that an article in the Times changed his perception of it, but I really don’t know what to say about this other than one word, FINALLY!  Justin has had this beyond stupid Samsung something or whatnot wannabe iPhone for about two years now and it is so annoying and such a pain to even look at, let alone use, so he needs this upgrade badly.

So moving on, as this Saturday is the Twenty-Second anniversary of my birth, a future national holiday (just let it happen because then y’all will get a day off from work so it’s not completely narcissistic), I feel that for some very odd reason, I can now call people younger than I am, “Kid.”  I cannot explain it at all, but last week, I just started saying, “Hey kid” to people.  Justin likes to remind me that he is Nineteen days older than I am so in his case, it’s “Grandpa.”  It’s such an old-timer line that I think we need to bring back, and since no one else will, I guess I’ll do it!  Speaking of my birthday, Andrew, once again, already got me my gift and oh baby, was it delicious!  Yesterday morning, I returned from my first class and open this square FedEx box that contains a baby blue box with white ornamentation on it and Ladurée written on the top of it.  I didn’t really count how many macarons were inside of it, but as of Midnight, the box was empty.  Andrew gave me eatable heaven for my birthday that OH MY GOD, the pistachio and the caramel were flavors I would have never picked myself, but he threw in the rose petal, which I think might be the best flavor ever!

Andrew follows a long line of people who know that the way to the bank vault that replaced my heart years ago is through desserts (so I traded my heart for some tzotchkes; it’s not like it’s important or anything.).  However, I realized that this is the third year in a row in which Andrew has sent/given me food for my birthday, so when I called him today to thank him for his gift, I let him know that in twenty years when I’m so obese that I’ll have to be moved with a forklift, I’m blaming him completely.  Two years ago, he sent me a heart attack in a box in the form of an all desserts gift basket from Eli Zabar’s E.A.T.  Then last year, he took me out for my birthday in Durham and bought me a bottle of champagne.  Andrew, ironically, loves to tease me about being “fat” despite sending me food for my birthday and asking if I’m getting dessert every time we go out to dinner.  I guess it’s the thought that counts, plus the tiny stomach ache I had when I woke up this morning.

Finally today, I came across an ad in the October 2nd New York Times Magazine (don’t judge; I’m behind in my magazine reading) that was for what has to be the most wonderful event ever: a Chocolate Show!  This is not a joke.  It’s a a four-day celebration of what has to be my greatest vice of all, chocolate.  I love chocolate; everyone who has been out to eat with me knows that it has only been within the last three years or so that I’ve even considered ordering something for dessert that isn’t chocolate, so I will definitely be attending next year!

Alas, as I write my final entry before my birthday, I think that I can sum up this last year in just a few words: not too shabby!  In one year, I’ve taken an overnight train from Florida, spent a semester in Italy, fulfilled a dream to go vineyard touring in Bordeaux while Twenty-One, got to see Mount Etna and all its glory, attended the opera at La Scala, worked in New York this summer, and broke my first bone (even if it was my pinkie toe)!  It’s been an amazing year for which I’m incredibly grateful and I guess next year can only hope to be better!  Until next time…

-JD

PS: In defense of the BlackBerry, it does know the word “schmaltzy.”