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February 9, 2006

Pink Ladies Love Cool James

After three (or was it sixteen?) hours of the Grammy Awards last night, all I have to say is: why OH WHY was LL Cool J so covered up? Where is the love? Shouldn't there be a law he must be sans shirt at all times? (Look! There I go with the French words! and I have not even been hitting the sauce.)

Mariah didn't win on camera, I know she may not have a lot of time for reading knitting and cat and divorce blogs, but Mariah girl I was pulling for you. I've been through a bad break up and a meltdown myself, and We Belong Together.

If ya'll missed the Grammys, or even if you didn't but you're into celeb gossip, or let's face it... you're bored at work and thanking your stars for the T1 connection ... I suggest you do your catching up at Trent's site, Pink Is The New Blog. Personally, I have a limited amount of time in this world, and yes I could be catching up on my Henry James or learning a piano concerto or doing long division in my head, but ya'll I have my priorities. So I get all my celebrity gossip fresh each morning from Trent, who I love and want to marry (he's in line right after my hairdresser, Drew, and a shirtless LL Cool J.)

All afternoon I could see the limos lining up outside the Downtown standard, and traffic was CRAZY with the awards just down the block. But the blimp was out!

View from my window at work.


Now we do the non-segue-way in which I announce to you, the world, that I am finally unstuck from my techmology morass and amen, dig in, because I have feel I have finally re-entered the human race. And for this I thank the color pink.

(ALL embracing of new technology in my life has resulted from appealing design... by that I mean I AM A SUCKER FOR THE COLOR PINK. My first home computer purchase? A pink imac. My first cellphone? A pink Nokia thing. My first mp3 player? Pink ipod. My first personal battery operated device? Pink and sparkly. NEED I SAY MORE?)

See, when you get hitched to a guy who is a lot older than you are, and he has old-man habits (which are endearing when you're in love and stifling when you're not), you may find that you begin to stagnate. It starts small, it's infinitesimal really, little things like your husband is too tired after dinner for a movie, and you stay in. Watch TV. Or maybe it's just age, but eventually you stop listening to current music and one day you wake up and you realize your entire musical knowledge base halted at Raspberry Beret. Or George Jones. Or Ja Rule. And people talk about crazy newfangled things like "ringtones" and you're in the dark, you've never bluetoothed, and you find yourself calling things "newfangled."

It's sad, really. Because although part of you wants to listen to nothing but 80s music and Classic Country, you find yourself Not Yet Ready for the Sansabelt slacks and the 8 p.m. bedtime. You're young! You're smart enough to figure this out! Right? So why are you suddenly feeling like the world fast-forwarded and left you one betamax tape behind?

My little breakthrough started with my summer intern, who was literally NINETEEN YEARS OLD. (Gotta love my hiring tastes in summer interns. Really.) He offered to help me straighten out my ipod, which I had somehow messed up. Because if you need high-end technology fixed, ask a teenager. Ya'll know. Then recently I got this penpal who started sending me cool-kid music, so I was listening to something besides "He Stopped Loving Her Today."

Then there is the matter of my cell phone. I have had my low-tech cell phone for four years. Maybe five. And Mr. Ex has still been paying for it (!) since we had the family plan (Dear Mr. Ex, please define the word "family" and use it in a sentence...) and the worst part, the worst: my phone number was quite unfortunately the exact same as the Veteran's Administration appointment hotline. With one minor detail. They have a 1-800 number, and I had a 1-818 number. OH MY GOD the wrong calls I would get... EVERY DAY. In time, I started to avoid answering my phone and exasperated everyone I knew. "Why bother even having a cell phone?" they asked. "Because... I need one ... for emergencies?" It was Not. Good.

So. Fast forward to Tuesday night. I'm on the treadmill, watching Gilmore Girls when I see a commercial for a HOT PINK CELLPHONE. Hello! "For a limited time only... just in time for Valentine's Day... surprise her with a pink Motorola Razr phone.."

Ooooh, I can be my own Valentine! I want to show myself this Valentine's love! With a pink phone! Come to mama!

Yesterday morning I walked into work and announced, "I must have a pink razr phone or I will die. Where is the nearest cellphone store?" and my coworkers, SO TIRED from hearing me talk to misdialed veterans all day, said, "We will escort you, thank the technology gods!"

And I went home last night with a valentine to me me me:


I love it. I have already figured out how to take pictures, and enter phone book stuff, and I am now about to climb the ringtone mountain. Especially if ya'll will take pity on me and tell me how to add ringtones to this phone (I bought this cord that can hook your phone to your computer but I have no idea. And my next summer intern won't arrive until May ...)

But with my newfangled pink technology, I feel ten year younger! Like I am no longer in line for Sansabelt slacks and blueblockers. I have a Valentine, and it is pink, and says "Hello Moto!"

But the best part? When I emailed Mr. Ex to tell him I had gotten a new phone and he could cancel my line... I did NOT give him my new number. I did NOT put his number in my new pink phone. I said, au revoir old man!

Because pink is the future! Just ask Trent. He knows.

Posted by laurie at February 9, 2006 9:43 AM