I celebrated my birthday last week. True, 46 puts me closer to 50 than to 40, but it was monumental for another reason-- John actually surprised me with my gift. Now, I love him dearly, but that guy simply doesn't have much of an imagination and my gifts are usually pretty predictable. I'm not complaining because one of his comfort zones just happens to be jewelry-- he definitely ascribes to the "you can't go wrong with sapphires" school of thought.
This year, however, he got me an iPhone (cue the chorus of angels). Why an iPhone? I dunno. I never professed more than a passing interest in one. Sure, a bunch of my friends have one, but since I'm wired (both literally and figuratively) so much at work, I tend to resist being "too connected." Despite myself, it's true love. True addiction.
So far, my favorite apps are of the barnyard variety. I have a cow game (you put them in their pens according to their color-- bovine segregation as Veronica so accurately calls it), a chicken game (sort of a word scramble thing) and something truly miraculous called Sheep Launcher. It requires very little skill and dexterity, which makes it perfect for me.
For the past two days, I've been enamored with listening to police radio from various parts of the country (although I always manage to come back to Chicago-- mostly, I think, because I can visualize the locations they're talking about).
Fun stuff. I don't know how I lived without it. Thank you, honey.
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