In the three minutes this quarter I am actually not holed up like Theordore J. Kaczynski...

I remember being a little girl watching Star Trek with my dad and just laughing and laughing at the idea that oh yeah, one day people would just be walking around the streets talking on telephones and stuff, hahahahaha. 

So. Well. That happened. 

My birthday is in 57 days aside: This

After a series of tragic cell phone mishaps that make my days of hamster-killing keeping look like a children's book, I broke down and got an iPhone. I loved Blackberry because I wanted a phone I could actually make calls on, and maybe get the occasional email. (Also, BBM. #hearts) I loved the Droid because it did a lot of *stuff*, but in the end, it wasn't always so great for making phone calls. See: 3 1/2 hour battery life. Not kidding. I went back to Blackberry and then my Blackberries started leaping to their own untimely deaths like little RIM lemmings (I think I shattered five in the course of like two months. It was pretty much awesome) and so I finally threw in the towel and got the damn iPhone. 

And it was good. It's easy. It makes sense. It works. 

Sometimes, though, I really miss that damn Blackberry. It was GOOD for work. It sucked for fun, mind you, but for work it was unbeatable. And it had a clit, so I felt like, you know, it really GOT me.  But now I have this Windows phone because HTC sent me a Windows phone and my middle child is the only one in the family with a not-iPhone and did you know that they pick on each other in middle school for what iOS your iProduct is now? So I gave him my iPhone and upped his muay thai classes and kept the Windows phone and that is called disclosure and good parenting. 

So I'm trying to learn a new phone, which is no easy task when you are A) old and tired and B) 100% a Mac and haven't willingly looked at a Windows product since your communist butt moved to Canuckistan in 2007 C) about to leave for a very big, important work trip.  

But I did it. I figured it out. It's got all these fancy calendar features and syncs gorgeously to Outlook (which is what my work email runs off of) and opens all my work email attachments for me like *that* and does all this other stuff that I really don't care about yet because selfies! Now with more Melisa Wells!

For the record and also my dignity aside: I morally, ethically, and spiritually object to adult women calling anything at all an ie! and that includes appies! besties! and mommies! but "selfs" just sounds sad and lonely and then I thought I would just call it 'navel gazing' so I gazed into my navel and found this. 

AGAIN. At least we know it isn't a demon. It might be Voledmort, though. 

I have almost no photographs with any of my collegues because my entire professional career has been spent on the wrong side of a computer monitor. This trip has been amazing because I'm just over a year into my job now, and so I kind of have a slight grasp on what the actual fuck I am doing, and so I've been able to stop on occasion and just take pictures with them. 

Or, more accurately, of them. 

You know what makes Kristin lovlier? NOTHING. She is the most lovely thing of all time. But purple city skies don't hurt. 

Those people up there? My co-workers? They are the music makers, and they are the dreamers of the dreams. They are also possibly all working black magic. 


Of course I didn't tell them I was taking pictures of them, because where is the fun in that? NOWHERE is where. My challenge for you (because POP QUIZ, MOTHERFUCKER) is to photobomb your co-workers. And yes, Dog can totally be your co-worker. He'll be mine this time tomorrow.