iPad: Not the Apple of my i

By Monica February 4th, 2010, under Uncategorized

Dear Apple,

I remember a time not that long ago when I was in love with you. You were so young and pretty. And I could drop my first love, the iBook, from a billion feet in the air with no damage. In geek parlance, I admired your constitution score.

Times have changed. With the release of the iPad, it’s like I truly see you for the first time in all your soggy douchiness. You tout yourself as “magical.” No, you are not “magical” — you are an ordinary device in an increasingly crowded field, and a shortsighted one at that. You allow publishers like that other douche nozzle, Macmillan, to jack up the price of ebooks and milk your customers. You’re pissy at Google for having the nerve to compete with you in a free market. You make using iTunes with non-Apple tech like looking for a Cheerio in a cow patty. And lastly, how did your marketing monkeys not see the MAXiPad jokes coming from space?

I am so disappointed in you, Apple. I feel used — used like the 10-cent media whores Steve Jobs has to suck off to get the fawning press he does.

I am ashamed to admit that I still dig my iPod, but I suppose we can be fuck buddies until something better comes along.

Sincerely,
Dirty Hooker

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Crafts: Bath salts

By Monica February 3rd, 2010, under Bath, Crafts
Salts

I made these bath salts as Christmas gifts. Add a few drops of red dye to a cup full of salt, then strawberry scent until you’re satisfied. This reminds me of the Strawberry Shortcake dolls from my misspent youth. They redesigned them, and now they’re all lame. Leave my childhood toys alone, faceless minions of corporate America!

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Goddamn it, Fitz!

By Monica February 1st, 2010, under Uncategorized

Devon and I awoke to a nasty surprise this morning in the form of a large pee stain in the middle of the bed. I know I didn’t do it, and I’m pretty sure he didn’t do it. Fitz was curled up on the bed as far from the pee as possible. Needless to say, she’s going to be crated at night for the forseeable future. Devon pointed out that what separates adult humans from every other lifeform is responsibility for one’s urine. He noted this after spotting the cat pee in his chair. Again. It’s their special way of telling him to fuck off when the litter box is dirty. So Fitz was too lazy to get her ass out of bed and over to the pee pad, and the cats were just spiteful.

The Adult Urine Theory also applies to Dad, who got pissy – ha ha! – with me when we were at a friend’s house and I insisted that he change his diaper and let me blow dry his pants.

In other news: I started the process for carving mom’s name into the headstone. She used to joke that if she kicked it before Dad, she would be buried between her first husband and second husband – a man sandwich. Would it be inappropriate to carve “Bow chica bow wow” into the stone?

I am wholly inappropriate.

Random funny from Devon, as we were walking on the subway platform: “If people commute together long enough, do their Metrocards sync up like periods?”

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Want some more girl-nerd goodness?

By Monica January 29th, 2010, under Uncategorized

Episode 2 of Tyrannosaurus Regina has posted. Or be cool and subscribe through iTunes so you can get it automatically. This ep is about Facebook and what it has for real gamers. Bonus: Real-life uses for LARPing shoes.

If you like the show (or hate it and wish we’d stop), let us know in the comments section of the site. We probably won’t stop, but at least you’ll get it off your chest.

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Print: BP is dropping

By Monica January 25th, 2010, under Uncategorized

This is hard to write considering I earn my paycheck from the profit fumes of the newspaper industry, but there comes a time in every adult’s life when she needs to suck up an unpleasant truth: Print is dead, and it ain’t coming back.

Print doesn’t know it’s dead yet. Its zombie corpse is still flailing about, threatening to eat our brains, but I have accepted the loss and moved on. I expect my job will disappear within the next few years as newspapers take their last gasp, but you know what? I love my nook. Love it, love it, love it. (Don’t tell the Amazon ads all over this blog, but the nook was wearing a tight skirt, and well, you know how it goes.) I love having my news and books delivered straight to my nook and not having to deal with piles of dead trees. I love getting my news online instantly. I love seeing photos and reading reports from people who live where the news is happening.

I’m sorry, print. We had a good ride, but I’ve met someone else. It’s not me, it’s you.

I’ve been accused of blasphemy by my peers and friends who still love the feel of pages turning. I admit to a certain fondness for stacks and stacks of books, with all  the promise held within. When I learned to read, it was like I’d been given access to a magical language. I used it to read a lot of Choose Your Own Adventure and Encyclopedia Brown books, but still.

I’m filing my affection for paper books and periodicals into the part of my brain that longs for a return to the use of calling cards and proper handkerchief etiquette. I’ll be sad they’re gone, but it’s time.

I am less pleased about the related death of invegstigative journalism. It’s expensive and doesn’t bring in the readers, which means we get endless stories about the latest freak-show Octomom-Balloon Boy-Kid Who Got Suspended For Bringing Utensils to School. I’m clinging to the hope that we’ll figure it all out eventually.

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Ooops, she did it again

By Monica January 20th, 2010, under Uncategorized

My life seems to be punctuated by shit explosions, both literal and metaphorical. This time it was literal. Again.

Fitz managed to weasel her way into the garbage and score herself two freezer-burned ham steaks that were about a combined quarter her body weight. She’s a tiny dog. She was happy, briefly, until she let loose all over the floor in both bathrooms. Even her pee was full of shit.

She was happy. I was not.

I needed rubber gloves and a whole lot of resolve, but I’m hardcore.

I hate you sometimes, Fitz.

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‘Crap yourself in a blanket to keep warm’

By Monica January 8th, 2010, under Uncategorized

As an editor, I love reading what other editors are doing. As a jerk, I love it more when I can point and laugh at those editors for being retarded. Check out these “11 Most Painfully Obvious Newspaper Articles Ever.” Then crap yourself in a blanket, if you still want to.

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Homeless, briefly

By Monica January 6th, 2010, under Uncategorized

So last week I locked myself out of the apartment when I went downstairs to do laundry. I was stuck out in the hallway for 3-1/2 hours in my bare feet with nothing but a bucket of laundry detergent until Devon came home, because my pride wouldn’t let me use a neighbor’s phone to call him to ask him to come home and let my sorry, forgetful ass in.

My pride hates me.

When I told him the story, he was all, “You’re going to blog this, aren’t you?” And it seems like a slam dunk, what with me taking a nap in the hallway with my laundry-detergent bucket as a pillow. But the truth is, it actually wasn’t so bad. A neighbor supplemented my bucket with  some socks, a cereal bar, a jacket and some magazines. Another neighbor let me hang at her place for a bit before her daughter had to go to sleep. So instead of a series of misadventures, I have a story that renews my faith in community, and a pretty dull blog entry.

Damn you, community!

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Happy New Year, youse guys

By Monica January 5th, 2010, under Uncategorized

I know, you’re all wondering, “What did you do for New Year’s Eve, Dirty Hooker?” What, you weren’t wondering that at all? Shut up, yes you were. If you guessed “partying like it’s 2009 in a drunken urban orgy,” try again.

It was my turn to watch Dad for the weekend, so Dad and I spent the day repeating the same three conversations a dozen times each and paying bills. When Dad suggested we have a drink at about 4 pm to celebrate the New Year, I was happy to oblige. Alcohol is probably contraindicated in half of the dozen or so medications he’s on, but I figure, he’s 88 years old, and if he wants a drink, I’m not gonna be the one to tell him no. So I poured him a small glass of some B&B we had in the cabinet.

While I sipped it delicately, because this stuff is strong, he pounded that shit like he was on leave in the army. He’s awesome like that.

Then, when Devon got home from work, Dad had a couple of glasses of wine and a glass of champagne with us. He’s hardcore.

He was morose for only a few hours before the clock struck midnight, but still, it sucks waching an old man cry. The next day he’d forgotten it was New Year’s, so all was well again.

This past week off from work was the greatest gift in the world. I got to play WoW and bake cookies and sleep a ton and generally decompress from the high-intensity second half of 2009. We topped it off with turning my desk from a horizontal shit catcher into a real, functional office space and turning one of the closets in the second bedroom into a usable craft center.

Devon installed shelves. I think I will keep him.

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We are nerds, hear us roar

By Monica January 4th, 2010, under Uncategorized

If you’re cruising for a new podcast, check out Tyrannosaurus Regina, where I and three other women talk about all things nerdy. You can find it on iTunes by doing a search for Tyrannosaurus Regina, or go directly to our site.

The site is a work in progress, as is the podcast, so suggestions are welcome.

Topic #1: Why aren’t there more female nerds? Topic #2, to be recorded this weekend, is about those supreme time wasters we call Facebook games. Are they really games or Facebook’s evil attempt to get us to spend real money on virtual money?

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