iphone adventures

Something that aids in the emotional recovery process?

iPhone, sucka!

I've been playing with that thing for a couple of days now.

Sure, I've had it since the day it came out (I ran into the house the moment Mom brought me home from the airport. The excitement from DC wore off the moment the plane left the gate at DCA. I was thinking iphone! iphone! iphone! after that), but I kind of tossed it aside once the depression set it. I mean, I've never had an iphone, and I'm bad with new things... so I have to warm up to it.

Well, I've warmed up to it.

1. I played with Siri for almost three hours.

That fucking bitch understands me probably 40% of the time, and that's me being generous.

For example, I was trying to get her to say my name correctly.

This was as good as it got:

Story of my fucking life.

Now, what I was trying to say was this:

Me: Learn how to say my name correctly.

Siri went ahead and said what's written.

Me: My name is N-oh. Eh. Me.

Me: NO. MY NAME IS (name).

Needless to say, the three hours sped past me as I argued with my phone like the typical, irascible Mexican girl that I am.

Siri still can't say my name (she even saved my "phonetic last name" as "The Ass," no fucking lie). That retard.

2. Talking about retards:

I'd probably be responsible for that roller...

I laughed for a couple of hours throughout the morning just THINKING about this photo.

Musketeer, as if he knew I had been walking down the streets of Bitterville, showed me the paper a couple of minutes after clocking in.

I used my handy-dandy 8MP iphone camera and tweeted the image, of course!

My friends are fucking psychic and know how to make me laugh.

This was no exception. I would break into random bursts of laughter whenever I'd think of the product description. Made my day, really.

3. RINGTONES!

You guys, I can't begin to describe how enthralled I become when producing ringtones.

Music is... not my LIFE, but it does play a significant role in it.

I sit at the lap top and play with various songs and meticulously pick the perfect excerpts.

Currently, the ringtone that completes me is Kanye and Jay-Z's "No Church in the Wild."

It's an awesome song, with a sick beat, so... it's my ringtone (I hope my friends don't disown me the moment they realize I'm a bigger Kanye fan than I let on).

Besides the fact that my friends would be slightly horrified over the fact that I dig Kanye and Jay-Z (six of my ringtones are of either or both... yeah... shhhh!), my folks aren't too happy.

As I was helping Dad look for flights earlier today, Rafa called me.

My phone went off:

Human being to the mob,

What's a mob to a king?

What's a king to a god?

What's a god to a non-believer

who don't believe in... 

anything?

Mom and Dad looked at each other in horror.

Dad: Mira esta! (basically the translation for "look at this guy!" but for a female)

I went ahead and changed my ringtone.

Not much better...

It was changed to "This ain't a scene, it's an arms race" (the lyrics are... aiiight, but I specifically LOVE the beat. I can pick out that beat from a mile away... no, really. I fucking love it).

I am an arms dealer, fitting you with weapons in the form of words.

And I don't really care which side wins

As long as the room keeps singing,

That's just the business I'm in.

This ain't a scene, it's a God. Damn. Arms. Race!

This ain't a scene, it's a God. Damn. Arms. Race!

See! See! This is why I went with Kanye.

I'll just put it back... now.

Tumblin' Dice

Since I was such a fucking ray of sunshine in my last post, AND I'm missing a post thanks to yesterday's technical difficulties (and also because it goes along with today's date, Friday the 13th. OoOooO!), I'll add another short entry:

My phone isn't too fancy.
Yes, I can get on-line and comment on people's FB pages, but I can't upload photos or watch videos.
I get notifications and all that junk, too.
But the only things it's really good for is Tweeting (and boy, do I abuse the privilege).
I can get apps... but it costs me a pretty penny.
I can get games... but that costs me an even more ridiculous amount of pennies (obviously my feelings towards this is "Fuck you, I ain't getting any games then, assholes! I'll just... play catch with my fucking phone whenever conversations suck or some other awkward situation arises").

My phone DID come with one game.
No, not solitaire, or other form of card game.
No, not some sort of "Bounce Out"-styled game.
Nope... not even a fucking updated version of "snake."
My phone came with a game called "Tumbling Dice."
What's that? Two 3D dice I can make tumble around--as if they're trapped in my phone-- and watch as they come to a stop.

Rafa: What the hell is this? Some App for an impromptu game of Craps?
Me: I don't know... how the hell do you play Craps?

Rafa tried showing me how to play Craps, but my attention span sucks... especially when a boring ass game that only crack addicts play in the street corners of Detroit is involved (yeah, too much Chappelle's Show).
I've been playing a different game with it which, if you ask me, is akin to a bastard Ouija Board... ok, more like the Magic 8 Ball.
Whenever I'm bored, I'll bust out my phone and I'll ask yes or no questions. If the final number is six or less, the answer is "no." The closer the number is to two, the bigger "HELL NO!" that it is.
Numbers seven to twelve mean "yes." Twelve is "YES, it's fucking OBVIOUS! Why'd you even ask that stupid question?" while seven is a "Meh... I guess you could consider it a 'yes'" (in my head, my possessions are always mean to me).
The reason I associate it with a ouija board instead of a regular M8B, is because of the creepy freakin' nature of the responses.
The phone's like Lassie... you know, that whole "What is it girl? Timmy? Timmy's stuck in the well? TIMMY'S STUCK IN THE WELL?!" thing. It eggs me on to ask more elaborate questions.

The answers it has given me have been... about 98 percent correct.
I'll start off with lame questions... then it'll get all intense. If I then ask a question that concerns the future... I get freaked out, 'cause I don't want that shit to happen.
Gah! Imbecile! Why'd you even ask that if you didn't want to hear the answer? The phone has spoken. It's final. Resistance is futile!

Anyway, I hadn't played that game in over six months... no, more. I last played it in Chicago, where everything the phone responded came out to be true.

So I put that power away... until today.
This time around, I started with asking questions concerning the past. It asserted every time.
I then proceeded to ask questions about the future... and I didn't like most of the answers. I asked the questions that bugged me the most a couple of times, at random times, and I'd get the same response (of course, varying in degree... except for two questions, those came out with the same intensity... which made me stop playing, because I'm a chicken).

Point of this post? To say I have a creepy-ass application that must be possessed or something.
AT&T... is this how you keep people on your network? Black magic?
I'm getting a new phone as soon as October rolls around... and I'm definitely leaving that bastard app alone until then (I can't erase it off my phone. WHAT KIND OF JOKE IS THIS?!).

Ode to Verizon

Dear cell phone carrier:
You suck dick.
Without you, my life would be merrier.
You make me sick.

You make me think
My friends are mad at me...
Perhaps on the brink
Of getting disowned to a degree.
:[

I take the phone with me,
It doesn't leave my side...
It's in the bathroom as I pee,
As if it were my pride.

I wait for a call
Or even some texting.
I stare at the wall...
This silence is vexing.

Should I blame the phone?
Maybe, who knows?
I turn it on in search for the tone...
Still there... this blows!

Is it the Moto Q
Causing all my woes?
It wasn't mentioned at its debut...
Guess that's what I get for trusting "Bros."

Here's to you, Verizon,
You bunch of worthless tricks!
Here's to another horizon
I have spent shitting bricks!

WTF... this fucking phone is ALWAYS messed up!
Yesterday, it started acting up since the early morning...
I kept getting upset thinking my friends were pissed at me... or that I was pissing them off.
I couldn't send or recieve messages... or phone calls (of course, I didn't know that... I just presumed people were giving me the silent treatment, so I left all dejected to Wallmart to buy my travel supplies).

Shit... as if the damn 50 bucks I cough (ok, I don't, Mom does) up every month isn't enough...
Even when the bill was 100 bucks a month, it would do this to me at times, even causing me a nice little argument with Lucky Soprano... and I think it drove me to call Native Minnow a jerk around the same time.

FUCK YOU, VERIZON!!
(P.S. I can't even get picture messages from people... that's how fucking lame my service is... I need to get on-line to check them... and media messages? Shit, forget about 'em. Choke on a dick, Verizon... choke on a dick)

Gearing Up

I canceled my phone's Internet service on Saturday.
It's only my 3rd day without it, and I already miss it like crazy.

I also changed my text messaging plan (hijole, TravelinDin, el muchacho que nos atendio la utlima vez nos atendio el Sabado, y se recordo de nosotras. :) Es tan simpatico ese chavo)... but Obnoxious Guy will NEVER know of this... never-fucking-ever.

Anyway, Lent beings on Wednesday... so right now... I'm swearing it up like a sailor.
Once again... and I do believe this marks my tenth year doing this, I am giving up cussing.
This time, however, I will attempt to accomplish such feat by broadening my vocabulary.
I'll also brush up on my Portuguese/French skills.
I'm going to be one boring little girl.

May God help us all...

P.S. I feel miserable right now... do you know how bad it feels to stifle a cry for two hours? Sheesh! That's what I found myself doing all throughout Atonement last night. Now I feel this heaviness in my chest... and my throat hurts. I'd still watch the film, however... repeatedly... until I would find it pointless to cry... kind of like I did with Pan's Labyrinth... although I'm sure if the timing is right, I'll still shed a tear with PL.
P.P.S. If my mind serves me correctly, I do believe today marks my one year anniversary with this blog.
I'm still not attached to it like I am to the other one... and I'm pretty sure it won't last me nearly as long.

The month that keeps on sucking

Shit.
Me chingue muy bonito.

Last night I remembered a little fact that my Q had erased from my mind all week:
I fucking hate cell phones!

I caught a glimpse of my phone bill yesterday... and to say I freaked out would be an understatement.

I became so upset, I went to bed early (it wasn't even 12 AM yet).
I just... left the computer... didn't speak a word to anyone... I crawled into bed (in my gym clothes.... how sick) and passed out.

I mistakenly believed the guy at Verizon changed my texting plan to 500 non-IN texts... but he didn't... I have 50. Just fifty.
I passed those fifty a week ago.
Now I'm in the hundreds.

I'm so fucked.
So non-Verizon people... please umm... refrain from texting me until further notice (because if you do text me... you better believe you're getting an angry phone call from yours truly over here... but I don't even know why I mention it here, since the fucking idiot who texts me to say shit like "hey," five minutes later: "Heyyy!!!!!" five minutes later: "What's wrong with you?!" five minutes later: "What the hell, AnoMALIE? Text me back!!!" doesn't even read this. Maybe I should just send him a text saying "Fuck you, you owe me 50 bucks, mother fucker. Oh yeah, quit texting me! You're not IN!").

Man... I hate September.
I'm so dead.
It was nice knowing you, world.
(as morbid as this might be... I'm kind of looking forward to the punishment I'm going to get... I'm just hoping it's not some sort of "I'm so disappointed in you" speech with intermittent Spanish cuss words used in exchange for my name.

"Que te dije, Cabrona?! Que eran un chingo de mentiras y que nos iban a ver la cara! Pero tu de muy mamona te lo crees todo! Chinga'o, como eres pendeja, AnoMALIE!"

Man, those speeches make me cry... but not because they're moving like, say, Sojourner Truth's)

P.S. I also received my credit card statement yesterday... nottttttttttt cool. That also had a lot to do with me crawling into bed and falling asleep instantly.
I'm so dead.
Fuck you, September!

Q is for... quaint.

I am now the proud owner of this bad boy: (his name is Quinn... as in, the ex-Notre Dame QB...which by the way... what an embarrassment that team is this year... damn)

However... as happy and proud as I am of this little PDA (public display of affection??), it caused an uproar in the household.
It started with Little Sister screaming "You're SPOILED!" in the Verizon store, then her driving Mom and I home in a sea of tears (probably the scariest part of the day... since she was sobbing and screaming the entire time... and I'm sure she couldn't see half the time through those crocodile tears she was shedding), her coming home and screaming "Don't talk to me!!!" to me, Mom, and Dad, and then me leaving to the gym so that I wouldn't resort to punching her mouth to make her STFU.

While I was away, throwing a medicine ball at Chase, turns out Little Sister continued with her bitching and Mom and Dad trying to convince her why she was being unreasonably jealous (who's going on a $14K trip to Spain in the Spring? Her. Who got three 0-miles vehicles in a matter of a year? Her. Who has a laptop? Her. Who has $200 D&G sunglasses? Her. Who has a television in her room? Her. Who bought a sidekick behind her parent's back? Her. What does AnoMALIE have? A pitbull who doesn't even listen to her... car that was bought because Little Sister was bitching about not wanting to ride in an old car that stalled... umm... an iPod nano--iPod Little Sister bought AnoMALIE in the first place-- that sucks balls and holds less than 500 songs... a bed in her closet-less room. How the fuck am I spoiled?).
Did she finally cool down? No. She didn't even eat.
Oh well.
It was going to be such a pleasant Sunday, too.