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Words with Friends

I adore my iPhone. It’s the best. Damn. Toy. Evah.

Sure, I’ve had to have it replaced (I’m on my fourth, but feeling optimistic). And it’s not great when you leave town and find yourself at the whim of the data-roaming packages. And the pictures are lame, at best. But still….I’m a loyal user. A true blue iPhoner.

Unlike those with crackberries, I wouldn’t call myself addicted. I don’t email at meals. I don’t text ‘n drive. And aside from a little show ‘n share with other Mac Daddies ‘n moms, I pretty much have the whole etiquette/right time-right place thing down.

Or, rather, I did. And then a friend invited me to play an innocent game of Words With Friends. And I told two friends. Who told two friends. And so on. And so on. And so on.

And everything changed. Those who know, know it all too well. They understand my pain and longing for one. more. turn. And those who don’t – beware. Basically, it’s Scrabble. Plain and simple. Only instead of sitting across from your competitors, waiting for them to hurry up and play already, you carry on with your day and everyone just plays as and when.

Sounds harmless, right? Riiiiight. Let’s just say that it can be. One of my mates is working nights. In England. So I’m awake while she’s at work. What could be better? But the rest of my games are E.S.T. And they’re getting more vicious by the hour. It’s reached the point where I’m making mental notes about good words to use. I see triple word scores as I fall asleep. I’ve learned that “heeze”, “vag” and “thio” count. “Zoot” does not, no matter how many times I try. “X” and “Q” are always great. Gimme an “I” and it’s points galore. “J” and “K” not so much.

I have friends with whom I chat at least 4 times a day. And we talk about our games. My mother sends me messages mid-game, berating me for not playing faster. Another pal and I stayed up past midnight, desperate to finish our match. Just so we could start another one. Which of course we did, and then proceeded to stay up so we could finish that one etc.

At one point I went rogue – and started up a game with a total stranger. I don’t know which was worse – the feeling that I could be playing with some kind of creep, or the fear that this potential creep would kick my ass. Either way, I got too stressed and ended it after one round. And then returned to my usual suspects.

I went away with a couple of friends and it was all we could do to not play against each other – in the same room!! Instead, we poured a couple drinks and played real scrabble. Sure, it was fun – especially when we used our iPhones to look up questionable words – but it took sooooo long.

I’ve tried to stop, I really have. Sometimes it feels like I’m just making words up, testing the gadget to see if it’ll bust me. It always does. But once in a while, it allows me to get away with words I never knew existed!! Good times! And now my Man has come over to the dark side. He’s gone and got himself an iPad. It’s cool. It’s slick. It’s downright magnificent. He says it’s for work.

I say it’s for Words.

Berg. Orb. Haw. Ugh. Heh.

Game on – gotta run.

3 comments:

Anonymous said…

THIS IS ONE OF THE BEST BEST.. I STAY UP UNTIL 2 A.M. AND AM REALLY AGGRAVATED WHEN I DONY GET A RETURN WORD.
I HAVE BEEN LAUGHING WHILE SENDING” WORDS”
THANKS FOR THIS NEW HAUNTING HABIT
LOVE YOU NUMBER 1 FAN

12:10 AM

Anonymous said…

addicted! what a great way to start my day reading this! one thing……. you forgot to mention that instead of getting up in the am to pee 1st. thing i check my games and make a move sometimes in both directions!!!!!!!

8:45 AM

Anonymous said…

Love the game – but the cheek of it! It seems everyone else (and yes, that means you and for some resaon my cousin) but me gets the software to accept absurd words. And yes, I feel there is a conspiracy when it takes 5 round before i get a vowel!!!!!!

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June 3, 2010   No Comments

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Hello Gorgeous!

The Palm Pilot is dead.

Long live… the iPhone!

That’s right kids. I went for the beauty along with the brains. And now, I am a woman in love. Completely and utterly besotted. With my new device, the new and improved iphone 3G. At last, after years of watching my man develop crackberry thumb, I have a syndrome of my own – iphone finger. And I couldn’t be happier.

Palm who?

Aaaah iphone. It’s a phone. It’s a walkman….I mean, ipod. It’s a filofax. It’s on-line shopping.

It’s a bloody computer and it’s fanf&ckingtastic.

I know it’s not perfect, of course. But I’m deeply entrenched in those early days of the love affair – where everything’s perfect. Or as close as it gets. Apparently these babies break down. Erm, ever hear of “reset”? And they’ve been known to re-send the same email. Over and over and over again. But I say, look on the bright side – it can make the recipient feel ever-so-popular. And don’t even get me started on all the apps! No, really. Don’t. Because I’m not quite sure what apps are, how they work or why I need ’em.

All’s I know is I scream you scream we all scream for…. iPhone. Ok so I’m appropriating a slogan inappropriately. I can’t help it. I’m positively giddy about the whole thing.

And it’s not just me. I swear. Fellow iphoners are equally obsessed. We’re like those loser Jeep drivers who cruise the streets, honking other loser Jeep drivers. Remember those? When I see another person playing….er, working, on an iphone, I feel the need to discuss. And they do too!How fab it is. Which cool shortcuts we’ve learned. Which apps we’ve downloaded. (Or not, in my case. But I play along).

The crackberry mob is quick to naysay: it’s hard to type (not once you’ve practised); it breaks down (it does?); it’s not good for business (huh? what business?)…The list goes on, as they check out the iphone. Many of them have opted for the itouch – iphone sans phone. But I like one-stop-shopness of it all.

I checked out the Blackberry. Curve, Pearl and Bold. I really did. I couldn’t type on it, could barely see the screen and thought it was clunky. In other words, I hadn’t been converted yet. I figured if I had to start fresh, I may as well go for the hot young creative over the staid, ubiquitous business sort. Artistic temperment, and cheesy metaphors, be damned.

And best of all, unlike the other creative types I’ve known, with one touch of a button, I can turn my iphone off!

1 comments:

journey2learn said…

The iPhone rocks! Welcome to Twittermoms.

September 15, 2008   No Comments

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Too Much Information

It’s a sad, sad time for me.

As many of you know, I lost a trusted friend yesterday: my Handspring Visor. Though referred to it as a Palm Pilot, it was actually an offshoot. The unrecognized bastard child of the Palm’s creators. Born sometime in the late ’90’s to compete with the Palm, the Visor was supposed to be The Hot New Thing: a PDA (or, as it was once known – the electronic organizer) that could turn into (gasp!) a phone! Or even (gasp!) a camera! No, no it wasn’t merely another palm device – this was the be-all-end-all in devices. This was gonna blow the old Palm Pilots out of the water.

Or so I was told. And I bought it – the device, the hype, the whole nine yards.

Many moons ago I went on the search to simplify. Being au courant, I figured I’d ditch my beloved filofax and go electric. Afterall, my Filo was getting so heavy and I yet couldn’t bare to edit or (god forbid) tear out old pages. Just in case. Also, it was fun flipping through the calendar and reminiscing. It was a good-looking book too, way nicer than my original rubber one. This one was leather, from that store Bree. Remember that place? Another relic where everything – everything – was light beige leather. The idea being that you’d have their wares forever – bags, suitcases, erm…filofaxes. And the longer you owned it, the more worn and tanned the leather got. It was stunning. At the time.

But practicality prevailed and I ditched it for a Psion. Remember those? The little keyboards that could? It was love at first sight. Until I got sick of it. I figured after several years it was time to upgrade. And thus the search began. First I checked out the old Blackberry – mostly because I liked the name. I friend of mine had one and it looked like a pager. And he was all thumbs. Why would I want that? Besides, I really just wanted an organizer.

So the Visor won. And I lost. Everything. All because I neglected to back it up.

Gone, 10 years of good times and bad. Adios friends, neighbours and services. The only folks who are keepers are the ones whose emails I happen to have. I suppose those are the only folks worth keeping anyway, and yet…..I liked having the numbers of restaurants, florists and my local GP from London. So what if I’ll never use any of ’em? Or if some have closed down? I could still go through, and reminiscent about my old life. Ditto having the address and phone number of my old boss, a hot shot film director who, tho’ we worked together for 5 years, I haven’t heard from in nearly ten. Still, it was nice to have, even if he never answered the last out-of-the-blue Christmas card I sent. Old boyfriends, old hairdressers, old haunts….see you never.

Many of you thought it hilarious that someone who thinks she’s so hip ‘n happening would be caught dead with something as passe compose as a Palm Pilot. It is, after all the ’00’s. Call me old fashioned, but I loved that quaint ole thang. ‘Til it lost my life. Now I’m over it.

Out with the old and in with the new.

But new who? Do I join the other addicts and go crackberry? Apparently Blackberry’s new Bold is gonna be all the rage. Or do I go for the lifestyle and looks of Apple? And if so, i-touch or i-phone? I’ve consulted with some of my pals, boys who like toys and they seem to like both. Sadly, that’s not an option. Not in these unemployed days. But what to buy? And what to do in the meantime? The Apples may not be as practical, but they’re attractive, cute, hot. And the Blackberry? Well, it’s just…not. Tho’ I’ve no doubt I’d learn to love it. Especially the whole v-card thing….

The Bold or the Beautiful? Or back to paper? It’s a big decision. And I can’t even call my advisors….I’ve lost their information….

August 16, 2008   No Comments

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my-Tunes

I’ve got good news and bad news.

The good news is that my eldest son has FINALLY stopped requesting “One Was Johnny” off of Carole King’s classic album Really Rosie.

The bad news is he now insists on U2.

Y’all probably think I’m nuts. Who wouldn’t prefer new, grown up U2 to old Carole King for kiddies? Sure, it sounds great in theory – after all, it is my cd. Trouble is he wants to hear one song, and one song only. And he wants it loud. Window-shattering loud. The dulcet tones of Ms King were ok by him at any volume (ie. soft). But for Bono’s boom, nothing less than full blast will do. We’ve tried to subtly lower the volume of the stereo. But this raises the volume, and ire, of the boy in the back. And if you think a blaring rock band is loud, that doesn’t hold a candle to a shrieking 2 ½ year old. I’ve got one of those. A screamer. Some have biters, or hitters, or criers. I’ve got a screamer. Our doctor told me that one day he’d learn how to use his “inside voice” but my husband doesn’t get that concept, so why should our two year old?

But back to the music. We thought it was amazing that our genius could correct Bono’s bastardized Spanish as he sang along to “uno, dos, tres, quatorze”. The yeah-yeah-yeah’s at the end? Adorable. At first. But I bought a couple of new cd’s and wanted to hear ‘em in the car (they get lost in my iPod. More on that another time.). I tried slipping in some new discs. No luck. The cry for U2 beat my desire to hear John Legend.

I recently read an article in New York Magazine. All the coolio parents were so thrilled that their little hipsters only listened to their (the parents’) tunes. But come on – didn’t their kids want to hear the same one song over and over and over again? I mean puh-lease, after a while, don’t The Beatles become as irritating as Raffi?

Last week, I slipped the latest Madonna cd in after track one of U2. Guess what? My boy loved her. So now when we get into the car he requests Old Madonna. Doubt she’d like that moniker, but we think it’s hilarious. Sadly for us, having listened to Old Madonna over and over again, we realize how much we miss U2.

April 25, 2006   No Comments

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