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Not much to post, just a pic I took while walking to my car after work today.

Beautiful weekend, and this cell phone pic certainly doesn’t do it justice. I suppose it’s more for memory than anything else — laying in the park with Linda underneath a blossoming tree.

A few days ago, the guys at Gizmodo posted about this waltz created with the Nokia ringtone as its theme. In the comments, someone pointed out the actual song that Nokia ripped on.

I think I like the piano waltz better.

Went to the mall this evening with Linda and stopped by Yogiberry to try some shaved ice. As you can see from the picture, the thing was massive, it’s as big as her head! At $7.50, it’s a little expensive, but a lot better than getting two small yogurts. Plus, look at how much fruit they piled on this thing; they even put some in a little bowl since it wouldn’t all fit. We were confused by the whole “shaved ice” bit though. They put some crushed ice and milk at the bottom. When I heard shaved ice, I imagined something more snow-like and not jagged pieces of ice. It was akin to the sno-cones that ice cream trucks sell — something I was never a fan of. Regardless, the yogurt and fruit compensated for the awkward milky ice at the bottom.

The pic itself was from my semi-new (read, refurbished) phone, a Motorola W385. Not the fanciest thing in the world, but I was able to link it to my computer via bluetooth, so I’m pretty happy.

This is the aftermath of the blizzard that rolled through the east coast this past weekend — there’s something calming about the sun’s pallid light, cast upon the thick layer of snow that seems to have frozen everything in its tracks.

It took Linda over 12 hours to get here on Friday. The journey is normally only 4.5 to 5 hours. The New York Times has an article about the storm, but their coverage on the D.C. beltway seems conservative. She described the situation of all the cars parked on the road, some cars tried to pass on the shoulder, but got stuck, blocking the path for the snow plows. After some time parked on the interstate, she managed to make a u-turn, escaping the interstate-now-parking lot. I’m just glad she made it here safely.

Earlier that afternoon I went to the Verizon store to get a new cell phone. I just needed something to make calls with and ended up spending $150 on a refurbished Motorola. It was horrible timing to ruin my phone, but I at least had something working so I could track her progress and update her on traffic. It’s not the best phone in the world, but it got us through this blizzard.

Well, since my Samsung Trance was sentenced to a watery death, I suppose I’ll memorialize it by reviewing it.

First the good. The build quality is excellent; it’s a slide phone with a glass front. All the buttons feel very sturdy and for the four months I had it, the slide never gave any signs of wear. Call quality was very good too, probably the best of any phone I’ve had, though I’ve admittedly not owned many phones.

In terms of design, the entire front face is touch sensitive, which is really just a gimmick. Having touch buttons on the face doesn’t really do anything when the button layout is static. When I first got it, I tried to touch the menu buttons on the screen many times, but you have to navigate around with a touch direction pad. My biggest gripe with the touch screen front was that the mute button was one of the buttons you could tap during a call. And press it I did. Many times.

Despite its flaws, it was a faithful phone while I had it, but alas, our time together was cut short by the spin cycle.

Cell phones can get pretty dirty. Every time you talk on one, a thin film of face grease will undoubtedly appear upon call completion. Thus, whenever I talk on my phone, I usually just wipe it a few times on my pants before inserting it back in my pocket. Sometimes, I’ll go all out when cleaning my phone; I’ll bust out the laptop screen wipes or maybe some rubbing alcohol. In general, however, cleaning your cell phone is usually a pretty mundane affair. So why write about it?

Well, I just thought I’d let everyone know that the laundry machine is not intended for cell phone cleaning. It may seem like a novel idea, considering the cell phone could already be in your pants, one step away from that slowly rising sudsy water — but resist the temptation. I, unfortunately, threw a pair of pants in the washer this morning, which was, even more unfortunately, housing my cell phone. It won’t turn on now.

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