Dear Bill:

First of all, let me state that I *understand* that Bill Gates no longer “runs” Microsoft.  I know that he’s passed his legacy on to other people and that he alone is not at fault in the defects and issues that Microsoft seems to possess.

But, let me also say that this is a post about Microsoft products; namely my Windows 7 phone, and the issues I’m having trouble understanding.  And, I’m PRETTY SURE there’s a “Bill” somewhere on one of the Windows 7 / phone teams….

I’ll admit that originally I was a Macintosh girl.  Not by choice, mind you, but it was the computer I worked on in my first large scale company job.  Although Macintosh/Apple has come a long way since then, I was unfaithful to Macintosh and ‘stepped out’ with Microsoft products at my next employment. I should have realized that my new electronics relationship was going to be trouble when I stared at my first blinking prompt on the DOS system.  The relationship has been downhill since then, with only brief blips of joy.  I still fantasize about Mac and may yet return to my first love.

If I had wanted to be a programmer, I would have certainly taken courses in college to understand how to communicate in computer-based languages.  Instead, I chose the path of being an administrative assistant (“secretary”) and chose to learn to type, operate a 10-key and answer the phone, as well as filing, communication with carbon-based life forms and processing reports. 

   

Since my initial introduction to “DOS”, I have been forced into learning all types of languages and communication skills that have no real basis in what I do on a daily basis.  Most of these languages involve some words my mother never taught me and my pastor wouldn’t approve of.  And the communication skills I’ve had to learn resemble banging my head against the wall instead of actually trading any information.  

Peeve

But, I digress; my issues with my most current Windows product deals with my Windows 7 phone; an HTC with AT&T service.    Yes, I know every phone is different and every service and every experience.  My blog, my rant.

First of all, I had to wait months for the “Mango” update on my phone.  My husband (same phone, same service) received his several months before I did.  Not having the Mango update on my phone meant I couldn’t download ringtones.  Stupid reason to be irritated?  Maybe.  But I hate electronic ringtones because they’re either chirpy or twangy or somewhere in-between that makes my head hurt.  

Then, when I finally got the Mango update, my calendar wouldn’t upload from Outlook.  I installed the Outlook Connector and nothing.  I asked my techie husband, and nothing.  I looked online (sorry, using Google) and nothing.  So I went through the LABORIOUS task of transferring all my outlook calendar information to my Hotmail account.  As I have things on the Outlook calendar scheduled several months out, this was quite a task.  Sigh.

Peeve 2.0

Version 2.0; get it?  I’ve had a Hotmail account but I never use it.  I was *forced* to use it to access our Troop’s former website (former for many, many reasons).  Except, one day, out of the blue, Windows Live decided it no longer liked my Hotmail account and wouldn’t let me in.  So, I switched it (eventually, after days of trying to fix/decode/figure out the silly thing) to my home email.  Problem solved.  Great; except shouldn’t a Microsoft program (Windows Live) have a pretty sure thing mentality towards a windows email (Hotmail)? 

Okay, so now I have a Windows Live account that won’t take my Hotmail account but will take my Verizon account.  Except Verizon changes to Frontier and I have to fix my Windows Live account.  No can do.  Okay, so I create yet another account (which means I have to create another password.  My feeble brain can only invent so many of these things).

So, now I have a Windows 7 phone, a Windows Live account that I access through my Frontier account and I’m using the calendar for Hotmail to dump onto my Windows 7 phone.  But, I can’t send calendar dates to my husband without sending him my entire calendar.  (Sending “appointments” was by far my FAVORITE thing about Outlook).  And, because my husband’s Hotmail account doesn’t work either, he had to set up a new one.  This means he has to *fix* the Windows Live component in order to view my Hotmail calendar.  So, we can no longer share dates on our calendars with each other.  Which means neither one of us know what the other one is doing unless I kill a tree by printing a paper calendar and hanging it on the wall.  Welcome to the age of technology, eh? 

Peeve 3.0 – 6.0

Applications?  Well, sure we’ve got apps!  I can play for (after a fee) any Xbox game I want on Windows 7 phones.  I can FINALLY access my Facebook application via mobile app.  I can play Words with Friends…wait a minute!  My iPhone friends have an app for WWF but MICROSOFT doesn’t?  What’s that you say?  I have to wait another 4-6 months for the mobile app for my phone?  

Some Podcasts work, some don’t.  I don’t understand which ones and why and why not.  Ravi Zacharias yes.  Dan Savage (what was I thinking?) yes.  T.D. Jakes?  No.  Same Podcast download, different results.  

My Bluetooth headset no longer syncs with my phone.  Why?  Don’t know.  All the internet searches say it “should”.  Great.

And Microsoft?  Somewhere in India there is a programmer who needs to learn to read US street signs.  I thought I was having an out of body experience the first time "Map Chick” told me to “Turn right at Nebraska 97^th Street”.  Nebraska.  United States Postal Service State Abbreviation NE.  It’s also, oddly enough the abbreviation for North East.  Which, I thought was pretty standard map-reading language.  Apparently, I was wrong.  Now, I realize that “Map Chick” means Northeast but just says Nebraska and I laugh.  Out loud; every time.  While I’m dissing “Map Chick”, I’d like to say that I KNOW how to get off my street thanks; and sometimes I drive the shortest way to the freeway just to hear you say “You’ve gone a different way! Tap anywhere to recalculate!”  Maybe I’ll have a life someday when I move to Nebraska 97^th Street.

Are there things I like about the Windows 7 phone?  Sure.  I like having my email show up on my phone so I can decide if I have to answer it right now or wait until I get to the laptop.  I like the camera function.  I like having the weather forecast and the Scanner application (saved me 30% at Bed, Bath & Beyond!).  I like that it sync’s with my Facebook peeps and that I can type notes or stories on it (I’m not fond that I have to wrestle yet again with Windows Live to transfer it to my laptop).  I haven’t used the cloud and I haven’t put music on my phone.  I have a Zune and I use it for my music (not my phone).  I have a couple of FREE games downloaded that I play while I wait at school for pickup or while I’m on hold on the land line.  And, yes, the phone works like a phone should.  

But then, my pay-as-you-go phone worked as a phone too but didn’t make promises it couldn’t keep.

Peace Less

Yesterday was not a good day.  It wasn’t the worst day ever, but it certainly ranks in the top 100 really un-good days.

It was supposed to be son #1’s triumphant entry into the work force; starting at his dream job, making money, being gainfully employed, blah, blah, blah.  He woke up on time, got to the bus stop on time, made the bus and missed his stop.  6 minutes late to the job line and he missed his shot at full-time.  Hopefully just for now and not forever.   He was in an angry mood, not talking, negative and just plain not a happy person.  As I didn’t know why he was angry, only that he was home when he wasn’t “supposed” to be; I was anxious and sad for him. 

Son #2 decided that me asking in my nice mommy voice twice for his chores to be completed wasn’t quite forceful enough of an impetus to get him moving so I obliged his desires with a mean-mommy voice shouting lecture.  I hate those.  Seriously, it must seem to my kids that I yell all the time but I honestly do ask nicely once or twice before I lose my grip.  So he was silent, sulky, petulant and angry.

The grandson decided to cry because I was yelling at son #2.  He cries any time I raise my voice above what he considers normal.  As I’m a loud person and I am passionate about my feelings and my children rarely listen the first time, there is sometimes a lot of loud-voiced-speaking (sometimes yelling) in my house. 

The baby I care for (guess she’s a toddler now as she’s one) doesn’t want me out of her sight.  This is cute until she throws a full blown screaming and crying jag when I go downstairs to load and unload the laundry.  Downstairs.  Not outside or in the car or far, far away.  Downstairs.

These moments in my life always make me feel like I’m the one to blame for it all.  We should have planned his bus route together to give him comfort.  I should have physically moved son #2 to get him doing his chores.  I could have carried the baby with me while I did laundry (you haven’t seen the floor of the laundry room.  Son #2’s clothing is all over the floor.  I’m afraid the baby would be lost for good).  The grandson wouldn’t have been crying because I wouldn’t have been raising my voice.  Problem solved.

Well, except for the whole life isn’t peaceful if people aren’t doing what they’re supposed to be doing thing…

Mammogram musings

Who decided that there should be TV’s in the waiting room and ALL of the exam/procedure rooms?

Who decided that swimming fish and coral reefs was what people wanted to surround them while having their breasts flattened? And WHY is the sound off?  How much noise can fish and coral reefs actually make?

For you men who complain about prostate exams, get a grip.  Seriously.  Try imagining your jewels laid on a slanted Lucite/metal slab while you hold your breath for what SEEMS like an eternity (but is really only about 10 seconds).  While your jewels are on this slab, they are being pressed nearly flat by a second Lucite/metal slab.  You must stand JUST SO (arm this way, shoulders relaxed, face this way, hold your breath, don’t move).  And you must do this four times (at minimum) – two on the side and two top/bottom.  You are completely exposed to the machine except for a lovely drape that really only pretends to guard your modesty.  

I thought that women with larger breasts would experience less pain and discomfort than women with smaller (less than B) cup sizes; according to my technician, this is untrue.  Go figure.

I have “dense” breasts.  Do they offer classes for this?  Can my breasts get smarter?  (“dense” has several meanings, this is a JOKE!)  But it’s worth a snicker every time the technician says the word.  

I think that part of the mammogram service should be a full body massage.  After all, you’re mostly naked anyways, lying there for the ultrasound with goopy stuff all over you and covered by a towel.  What would it hurt to have a massage afterwards?

I can’t imagine a woman born before the 70’s considering having a mammogram without having embarrassment.  Have I mentioned the mostly naked part?

After all is said and done, I still recommend that EVERY woman get a mammogram.  I had my first one at 36 (after my last child had stopped nursing) and have had one almost every year since then.  I pray I am one of the women who never has to hear the diagnosis of “breast cancer” or even a “lump”.  

Embarrassment, discomfort and goopy stuff aside, do it.  But ask for the massage afterwards!

What my children think I do all day…

What my children think I do all day…

Play on Facebook

Nag them about stupid chores

Drink coffee

Create dirty dishes

Nag them about stupid chores

Play on Facebook

Check my email

Play on Facebook

Nag them about stupid chores

Watch TV

Lie awake at night thinking of stupid chores to nag them about

Wake up at 3 AM thinking of stupid chores to nag them about

What I think my children do all day…

Play Team Fortress 2

Text friends

Play on Facebook

Text friends

Eat

Watch TV

Text friends

Play on the Wii

Text friends

Eat

Play Runescape

Text friends

Check email

Text friends

Watch YouTube Videos

Watch Anime’

Eat

Text friends

Watch TV

Sleep

Snow White and the Huntsman

I’m a movie sap.  I am NOT a movie aficionado, a purist or even a movie critic.  I like what I like and I don’t what I don’t.  My tastes are not definable, nor are they logical.  I love Pauly Shore movies and I detest anything with Christian Bale in it.  That being said….

SPOILER ALERT!!!

The Evil Queen dies, Snow White lives and they live Happily Ever After.  

Distractions:      It’s difficult to picture Chris Hemsworth as a drunk, depressed widower/huntsman when I’m too busy thinking of him as “Thor”. If you haven’t seen “Thor” or “The Avengers” you likely won’t have this problem, but seriously, it was a mind trip.

I also had a difficult time not being distracted by the non-dwarf dwarves, thanks to all the media blather about it.  That should teach me not to read anything about a movie BEFORE I’ve watched it, but as I rarely see movies in the theater, I’d never find out about anything, so it’s a distraction I have to deal with.

Charlize Theron is gorgeous.  Seriously, she is one of the women I’d like to come back as if I believed in reincarnation (Giada DiLaurentiis and Janet Jackson are my other two, BTW).  But it was hard to feel for her in this part as she’s blonde and her name is “Ravenna”.  It took me until the drive home to get the significance of all the Ravens…  And the aging thing was kind of distracting too.

Snow’s dirty cuticles were distracting, but then, I suppose a girl can’t really take a bath while running for her life and being led through the forest by some non-dwarf dwarves, “Thor” and a prince.  

I was equally distracted by the well-done, but not-by-the-book romantic plot.  Snow takes a bite of the apple, is choking and dying and all I can think about is shouting TRUE LOVE’S KISS!  TRUE LOVE’S KISS! KISS HER YOU FOOL!  Fortunately, I remember I’m in a theater and I have control of my romantic urges and eat a milk dud instead.  I won’t tell you who was supposed to kiss her, but he didn’t in that scene and I had to finish the box of milk duds.  IMMEDIATELY.

The Movie

Is the evil queen less beautiful than Snow White; could Charlize Theron even come in anywhere behind Kristen Stewart on a bad day (she DID look pretty bad in “Monster”)? Well, that’s up to you, but I found the entire cast completely mesmerizing.  Ravenna spends most of the movie aging and grasping at her youth by killing almost every single living woman in her dying kingdom.  It’s typical grey, dark, depressing scenery, complete with twisted vines, bugs, snakes and ravens.  She is a spoiled brat of a woman who berates her brother for not being able to out-wit Snow White.  Seriously honey, if you wanted her heart, why did you not go to the castle tower and snatch it out of her little body yourself?

The Huntsman spends most of the movie moping about his dead wife and denying that Snow is the princess/savior/promised one.  The non-dwarf dwarves help in some ways, but he doesn’t really come to the conclusion that Snow really going to de-throne the queen until after she’s “died”.  Hello?  I’m done with the Milk Duds!  What am I supposed to do now to quell hopeless the romantic dialogue that’s threatening to shout out?  Whew!  I still have Cherry Coke left.  All is well and there’s still some of the movie left too.

What I Loved

The scenery, the soundtrack, the CGI, the story that followed the fairy tale but strayed just enough to make it all work out.  The costumes and the script were awesome too, and I thought the cast played well in their roles.  I was so entranced I forgot to be distracted by the on again off again ‘accent’ Snow White had (darn movie critics for putting that in my head too!).  I loved that the heroine was scared and wounded yet fought and kept going.  I loved that she found wonder in the beauty of the butterflies, the fairies and the white stag.  I love that true love doesn't always appear in the usual ways.

The Conclusion

I’ll buy this movie on DVD (and probably the soundtrack too) and I’ll watch it over and over again – much to the confusion and annoyance of my teenage sons.  The story was traditional yet inventive, dark but not scary, and although it was predictable (I mean, it’s SNOW WHITE for Pete’s sake), I walked out of the theater completely feeling like I’d seen something new.  I love a movie that takes me away from my life for even a bit of time.  There was action, CGI, romance, magic, evil, non-dwarf dwarves, horses, beautiful costumes, a prince and a princess.   What could be better?

What Surprises me

The other day a friend said to me “You always look so surprised when he is sarcastic!”  The “he” in this case was my 18 year old and the occasion was communicating about a ride home while discussing what he had/n’t eaten at the church buffet.  He had his mouth full of salad and was attempting to have me understand that he’d eaten only salad and was staying for awhile after the buffet.  Sarcastically.  And with plenty of "tone".

I responded to my friend “It’s not so much the sarcasm that surprises me. It’s the disrespect and contempt that does.”  Four children later – another unfinished project, btw – I have never quite learned to shield myself from the pain of the insolence and nastiness that is the teenage idea of sarcasm.  

I get sarcasm.  I get playful teasing, giving someone a hard time, flicking them “crap”, yanking their chain, etc.  My father ribbed me for years (until he died) and I developed a partially thick skin and learned to give it back as well.  My kids are blessed (or cursed) with a great sense of humor, a quick wit, a sharp intelligence and a pretty good sense of comedic timing.  It’s hard to have a serious conversation in our house without any one of us poking or jabbing in a smart-mouth comment or two.

But there is a tone of disrespect that I’ve never been able to see as funny.  I was a “normal” teenager and gave my mother a good share of disrespect in my day, but she was oh-so-quick to snuff it out and punish it into oblivion – at least until I was banished to my room and muttered more under my breath so she couldn’t hear me.  Because, if I’d continued to say what my teenage mouth wanted to say (without connecting with my yet-to-be-adult brain), she would have had no problem taking off her shoe and smacking my posterior until it stung.  This by the way, was not child abuse, it was discipline.  I do not have an irrational fear of rubber-soled moccasins because of it; only a huge respect for my 5 ft. 2 mother who didn’t hesitate to reprimand me when it was necessary – no matter how tall I was.  Apparently, my children do not have the same amount of healthy fear/respect for me or my shoes (or the ruler).  They just continue to toss out the zingers until they’ve dug the hole so deeply that my Irish (not to mention my Italian) comes out fighting.

And, although this phase, too, shall pass; sometimes the adult “child” never distinguishes the tone difference between sarcasm and disrespect.  I listen to adults who have a biting sense of “humor” and who actually think it’s funny when people wince at their sharp attempts at humor.  Or that person who always has a mean intonation when they comment but then follow it up with a smile or a laugh (or a smiley face electronically) as if that softens the blow of the words.

 

I can hardly wait until my children have children of their own and have their disrespect thrown back in their faces.  I hope they’re better at deflecting it than I am.