My Two Cents

Apple always makes much ado about its gadget debuts, so the Saint and I were listening to a radio program about it this morning. These dudes were placing bets on the new gizmo's name, with options like iSlate, iTablet, iBook, etc. But...Apple disappointed me by unveiling the most cringe-worthy name of all...
The iPad.
If you like menstrual humor, please click here.
So that's problem number one. Problem number two is that this thing is grotesquely large. In the debut video Steve Jobs cradles his...ick...iPad like an infant. Wowee, that's a small laptop! But, lordie, that's a big MP3 player. Arguably not suitable for the gym. And imagine having a conversation on it. It would be like holding a cookbook (that weighs 1.5lbs) to your ear. As far as photos go, it's like the modern day pinhole camera. I mean in size, not quality. The new book feature is cool, I guess, if you like your books fragile like antique original publications and expensive like...well, that's up to Apple to decide.
This is the gadget that replaces all the rest of your gadgets. Meh. Inadequately, it seems.
But I always thought the iPhone was kind of stupid too. I am totally not in Apple's prime demographic range of smug graphic design students, Dan Bennett, and those poor consumers who are constantly trying to outrun obsolescence.
None of which is to say I don't luurrve iPods and iTunes. So I'll shut up now.

Inauspicious

Oh la la, it's been a year of blogging for the Hoo. If I spent 1/10th as much time writing as I did perusing all the amazing blogs of the world, I would have a novel. Like, a big one.
As it is, I just have access to some amazing time killers.
I love most of all:
Luxirare.
FatCyclist.
GoFugYourself.
SeaofShoes.
BikeFag.
And so many, many more.
But that's not the point of this post. Point is, what have I accomplished in the past year? Well, not much. I'm in stasis until some kind of big shake-up, hopefully one brought on by graduation and an amazing job offer. I'm not picky. I'd be open to being a:
-Stylist. Yeah right, Julia.
-Editor of some fab bike or fashion mag. Preferably involving lots of free shwag and good riding buddies (probably less available in the latter)
-Traveling coffee shop consultant. Baristas being bitches? I'll fix 'em!
-Tenured history professor. Magically bypassing the insane amount of education and awkward first years of teaching.

More likely?
-Belk dressing-room attendant.
-Freelance journalist. Which for me would probably be code for poor-as-dirt and rarely published.
-Bakery employee.
-Disgruntled high school teacher. Yuck.

But, similar to the post written a year ago, most of my attention is directed towards the Icycle!!

Also: I would like to officially retract any statements regarding my "retirement".
More later.

The Frosty Foot

My pain memory is shockingly short. I'm hobbling around the house like an eighty-year-old after this morning's trail run/race in Tsali...and thinking strange hallucinatory thoughts like...

"That wasn't bad. Was fifteen miles long enough?" Yeah right, around mile 8 I wanted to punch myself in the face.
"I could have gone faster." Yeah right, I was set on 'trudge' and definitely couldn't have.
"I should run more/longer/competitively." Yeah right, my mantra during the race was "Please never again".

The rose-colored glasses go on about twelve minutes after a race. Stoic? No. Stupid? Maybe.