Argentinian Football - Passion like no where else

Breakfast at Tiffany's

Ok not this time. Breakfast at SohoApple!

It was just any other friday morning. I was about to throw my joggers on and go join the multitude of granola eating runners in the park. When on an impulse I decided against it. Running for the body, iPhone for the senses, the choice wasn't a hard one. I chose to break the pattern and go join the multitude of mac addicts in Soho; me, moi, the woman who is so claustrophobic in malls that she shops for everything online!

I won't lie, the thought of wrapping my hands around this new swanky machine was very exciting. I made sure my iPod had enough juice for who knows how long the adventure would last. I got to the store at 2 mins to 8am and was greeted by 3 long blocks of serious iphoners/wanna be iphoners who just had to get their hands on this technological piece de resistance on day 1 of its release.

As I stood in line I was wondering what made me do this; basic instincts, insatiable desire for innovation or the sheer power of Apple...

This day was also the perfect opportunity for product placement - Red Bull, Smart Water, T.Shirts handed out by makers of the various applications that are now available through the app store. The one thing we could have all done with is a massage. Apple should have offered complimentary treatments to everyone who stood in line for over 2 hours. Yes, that's right by the time I got to the front door we had been in line for over 2.5 hours.

Finally a bunch of us that had bonded during this endless wait were greeted by an applause from the Apple store assistants. The airconditioning was enough to cool me down but only briefly when this rude man jumped the line. No mister, you don't get away with that when I have been in line for 3 f@#kin hours. I asked him to step back to where he was, I was not going to take that lightly. As I was dealing with this situation a cloud of doom seemed to have surrounded everyone, everybody looked dejected. But thankfully it wasn't them running out of the phones, Steve Jobs is way too smart to let that happen. It was an unbelievable load on their servers. With millions of previous owners and new ones (in Australia, UK who are ahead of us time wise) trying to get their phones activated and downloading the 2.0 release.

We were all tired and listless so I egged on a few boys behind me to bring over some balls to sit on, you may have seen them on a visit to an Apple store, the kids sit on them while playing with the computers. Very quickly in typical Mac fashion, things were up and running and I had a personal consultant. If after being in line for these many hours you still don't know the machine you want then you don't belong there. The words "16 Black" could not have come out of my mouth soon enough.

Needless to say I left the shop a very happy woman and have not slept since trying to get to know my new mate inside out. I have to say one thing though, as the lady hands me the phone she asks me to jot down my new number. I look very perplexed as she verbalizes what would be from here on out my calling card. She asks me if everything is ok. Of course it wasn't, my new number is 347-xxx-xxxx. 347, I say. What country code is that? You have got to be shitting me right? NYC is 646 or 917, what is up with 347? She explained that all the new numbers now start with 347. Hmmmmm. Don't get me wrong here, this ain't snobbery. This is the basics. Its like having the passport to NYC but not the citizenship. Well that will be a battle for another day. Maybe a plead to AT&T to restore my old number from before I left for Sydney. But in the mean time viva la vida...

Now only if this baby had video ichat, that would give mobileme a whole different meaning ; )

The Quest

I couldn't help myself. This is my current favorite track since the season finale of Grey's last week. The single should become available June 9th on iTunes. The artist is Bryn Christopher out of the UK.

Things to pray to in San Francisco...

The Beginning of September
By ROBERT HASS

I

The child is looking in the mirror.
His head falls to one side, his
shoulders slump.
He is practicing sadness.

II

He didn't think she ought to
and she thought she should.

III

In the summer
peaches the color of sunrise
In the fall
plums the color of dusk

IV

Each thing moves its own way
in the wind. Bamboo flickers,
the plum tree waves, and the loquat
is shaken.

V

The dangers are everywhere. Auxiliary
verbs, fishbones, a fine
carelessness. No one really likes the
odor of geraniums, not the woman who
dreams of sunlight and is always late
for work nor the man who would be
happy in altered circumstances. Words
are abstract, but words are abstract
is a dance, car crash, heart's
delight. It's the design dumb hunger
has upon the world. Nothing is
severed on hot mornings when the deer
nibble the flowerheads in a simmer of
bay leaves. Somewhere in the summer
dusk is the sound of children setting
the table. That is mastery: spoon,
knife, folded napkin, fork; glasses
all around. The place for the plate
is wholly imagined. Mother sits here
and father sits there and this is
your place and this is mine. A good
story compels you like sexual hunger
but the pace is more leisurely. And
there are always melons.

VI

little mother
little dragonfly quickness of summer
mornings
this is a prayer
this is the body dressed in its own
warmth
at the change of seasons

VII

There are not always melons
There are always stories

VIII

Chester found a dozen copies of his
first novel in a used bookstore and
took them to the counter. The owner
said, "You can't have them all," so
Chester kept five. The owner said,
"That'll be a hundred and twelve
dollars." Chester said, "What?" and
the guy said, "They're first
editions, mac, twenty bucks apiece."
And so Chester said, "Why are you
charging me a hundred and twelve
dollars?" The guy said, "Three of
them are autographed." Chester said,
"Look, I wrote this book." The guy
said, "All right, a hundred, I won't
charge you for the autographs."

IX

The insides of peaches
are the color of sunrise
The outsides of plums
are the color of dusk

X

Here are some things to pray to in
San Francisco: the bay, the mountain,
the goddess of the city; remembering,
forgetting, sudden pleasure, loss;
sunrise and sunset; salt; the
tutelary gods of Chinese, Japanese,
Basque, French, Italian and Mexican
cooking; the solitude of coffee
houses and museums; the virgin,
mother and widow moons; hilliness,
vistas; John McLaren; Saint Francis;
the Mother of Sorrows; the rhythm of
any life still whole through three
generations; wine, especially
zinfandel because from that Hungarian
vine-slip came first a native wine
not resinous and sugar-heavy; the
soudough mother, true yeast and
beginning; all fish and fishermen at
the turning of the tide; the turning
of the tide; eelgrass, oldest
inhabitant; fog; seagulls; Joseph
Worcester; plum blossoms; warm days
in January ...(sic)

XI

She thought it was a good idea.
He had his doubts.

XII

ripe blackberries

XIII

She said: reside, reside
and he said, gored heart
She said: sunlight, cypress
he said, idiot children
nibbling arsenic in flaking paint
she said: a small pool of semen
translucent on my belly
he said maybe he said
maybe

XIV

the sayings of my grandmother:
they're the kind of people
who let blackberries rot on the vine

XV

The child approaches the mirror very
fast
then stops
and watches himself
gravely.

XVI

So summer gives over--
white to the color of straw
dove gray to slate blue
burnishings
a little rain
a little light on the water

Adrenaline Rush

My aussie mates bought me some heart-stopping presents...
What a way to look at the world's most beautiful harbour!
Chilling manoeuvres including several 270 degree spins, wild fish tails & power break stops. Got soaked in the Sydney waters. A.W.E.S.O.M.E.

Keeping Your Priorities, Even At The End

Kinda puts it all in perspective...

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/08/health/08well.html?em&ex=1207886400&en=227dcc7269e91cb6&ei=5087%0A

Good Girls Go Bad!

Brilliant! Brilliant! Brilliant! and TRUE. I have been known to misbehave when exposed to Lynx (the UK brand name for Axe).