Hiding from the tech gods

Last night I tried a new hair salon.  Went with a friend from work and got highlights and cut.  [Which I’ve been told looks really good.  I agree, but it would be vain of me to say so without corroboration, yes?  Although it’s not like I had anything to do with it, other than paying for it.  It’s all due to Jen, the awesome hair guru.  I just nodded and said, "Do whatever you want. I need something new."  Of course, hair always looks good leaving the salon; the question is, how will it look when I try to style it that way?  Normally I’m a wash and wear woman.]  Anyway, afterward, MK and I went to dinner at a little Indian place nearby, then I caught the very late train home.  (Boy, there were some morose Caps fans on that train.)  Instead of walking or waiting for the bus, I decided to take a cab.  There was a cab shortage for some reason.  Maybe an event in town?  Or just that it was midnight on Friday night, and all the cabbies were trolling Fells Point, Canton and Federal Hill for drunken fares?  I ended up sharing a cab with two other people, strangers, we all just happened to be going in the same general direction.   

First stop was fine.  Second stop, the guy had no cash and told the driver that; the driver ignored his credit card for several minutes as he held it out, maybe thinking if he pretended it didn’t exist the guy would magically find cash?  I don’t know.  Anyway, I pulled out more cash (I’d already gotten out the amount I expected my fare to be) paid his fare.  It was not entirely altruistic of me:  a little bit was a sort of pay it forward thing because of generous shared cab rides in the past, and part of it was selfish because I was tired and wanted to get home.

Sadly, when I pulled the extra cash out of my pocket, my iPhone (iPhigenia) fell out as well.  Even more sadly, I did not realize this until I was getting organized and ready for bed last night and couldn’t find her.  Have texted; have called; called the cab company with the cab number.  No one has turned her in.  I’ve frozen my wireless account, so no one can use her.  And had the usual security lock with PIN that kicked in after 2 minutes inactive.  Wish I had iFind and could either find her or wipe her remotely.

This morning, I turned on my Kindle (being Kindle app-less) and discovered that I have somehow damaged CK (for the Cherry-flavored Kindle Koolade), probably by something heavy while she was being toted around in my backpack.  The ink on the screen is all wonky, like it has bled, and there is a distinct line down the middle.

Given my budget, which is now totally blown for the rest of this month and May, I’ll be replacing iPhigenia, but CK will have to remain on the DL/IR for now.  

On the bright(ish) side:  I backed up on Monday, so at least my music, contacts, notes, etc., won’t be lost.  Although I did have a couple of voice mail messages I hadn’t listened to yet.  Ouch.

I’m going to upgrade to the 3GS so I’ll be able to multitask when that release drops.  The question is:  what should I name the new phone?  Need an "I" name or word.  Icarus?  Nope, family dog with that name.  Iggie, no makes me think of Iggie Pop, not a pleasant image.  Must ponder this.



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7 responses to “Hiding from the tech gods

  1. Depends on male or female.
    Isa-bo (not bell, bo)
    And I’m sorry you lost her – that sucks but good on you for backing things up. I would be so euchered if all my computers crapped out at once. Over. Fini!

    • You can be sure that I felt the need to back everything after this πŸ™‚
      Thanks for the name suggestions. I’m still debating: male, female, or gender free?

  2. OMG, I would be screaming bloody murder if I were in your shoes!
    Is Ignatius too close to Iggie?
    Inigo (this would be fun, especially if there was an app for the movie line)

    • I may have flipped out with the cab company dispatcher, just a little bit.
      Oh, Inigo, I love that character. And Inara. Ingrid makes me think of Bergman, whose films I enjoyed. Clearly, I must think about this and choose carefully. πŸ˜‰

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