Yesterday was a day of surprising highs and lows. Finished the dinosaur story in one day instead of the expected two (the music of Akira Ifukube was a definite help), and the response to it was quite positive. Then off to avery nice lunch meeting, and an afternoon that ended in severe disappointment when I discovered we had been misinformed, and my cell phone account was not yet eligible for an upgrade. Especially sorrowful, as I had been playing with the display Droid while waiting. Sob wail choke boo hoo.
So close. So. Very. Close.
If there’s any upside to the gadget-lust heartbreak, it’s that by the time I am eligible, the next generation of smartphones will have been out for a few months, and I’ll be a little snappier for it. In the meantime, I soldier on with my Crackberry.
There is nothing wrong with Crackberrys, per se – the Blackberry is a damned fine smartphone. I love mine almost unreservedly. The “almost” comes from a flaw in the Tour model, which renders my trackball occasionally – and by occasionally, I mean far too frequently – unusable horizontally, reading rightward motion as leftward. When I correct my tweets or e-mails, I have deleted entire lines of text rather than try to wrestle the cursor to the point I require. There’s a reason all the newer models have a touchpad instead of a trackball. Past that, the damned thing’s magic.
But the Droid is close to black magic.
Lisa continues to improve; the majority of sugars have fallen below 100, and when spikes occur, they’re below 200. I’ll take that, gladly.
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