Shortly after buying a new iPhone 13 to replace my ailing iPhone 7, I rediscovered my love of music in a big way.
In having chosen a model with 256 GB of storage space, I could store my entire music collection on my phone and was able to play any song I wanted, any time I wanted.
Given how the switch to a new phone was caused by a broken connector port, I started looking for ways to reduce wear and tear on the new phone’s port. Given the price of phones, any measure to potentially stretch its life span seemed like a worthwhile undertaking.
First, every time I plugged the power cord into the new phone, I slowed myself down to be as gentle and mindful as possible, trying not the jostle the phone unnecessarily. My moves were so calculated and slow, you’d think that I was handling a priceless artifact. Given the price of phones, that’s probably an accurate comparison.
Second, when I was moving music from iTunes onto the device, to ensure I wasn’t plugging and unplugging the phone repeatedly, I ensured I had my selections ready to transfer in large batches.
Third, I started wondering if wireless headphones would be a good investment. By using the phone’s Bluetooth technology to have the mobile device communicate with headphones maybe that could also help reduce wear and tear on the connector port.
You’d think that as a music lover, I would have already been plugged in to the wonder of wireless headphones. I’m afraid that I hadn’t jumped on that bandwagon yet. Continue reading
It is rather funny the habits we pick up along life’s journey, especially the ones that become less relevant at a different stage in life.
For me, it is the need to explain… to justify… to contextualize… to rationalize.
It is an impulse with very deep roots that I find somewhat challenging to reprogram.
Over the span of my 33 year career, many of our day-to-day transactions needed to be supported by a business case and more often than not, a justification. Frankly, I didn’t mind too much, as justifications seemed, for lack of a better word, “justified” in the business world.
That being the case, in learning to write for the public sector, the development of well crafted, logical justifications was a recurring task. It was the way to bring an issue to senior management and to seek approval to proceed with a proposed solution. And, might I say, what a great learning opportunity for an aspiring writer!
When I received confirmation that a business case or a justification I wrote (or co-wrote) was approved, it always took me back to childhood. It felt just like it did when I received a gold star on my report card.
To see an idea come to fruition was always so gratifying. Continue reading
Filed under 50+, Humour, stories
Back in the 1980’s, when I used to work in retail, there was a customer who used to come in to the pharmacy regularly who was well known among team members. She was a little eccentric and she had what you might call a unique sense of fashion, but she was still very sweet and we were always happy to help her.
But we really got to know what she was made of when her world came crashing down at the news that her favourite shade of lipstick was discontinued.
As I understand it, she had her colours done back in the day and was told that this particular shade of orangey-red lipstick was the perfect shade for her. She obviously took this very much to heart as it seemed that every subsequent visit was punctuated by a question about her non-negotiable shade of lipstick.
I don’t think we ever knew her name, but through her relentless search, she became known to us as the “Orange Lipstick Lady.”
At first, she bought up all the remaining lipsticks in that shade. Then in the months that followed, she asked our head cosmetician to order some for her until the distributor couldn’t supply us with any more.
When she had tapped out our supply chain, she still came in at regular intervals to check EVERY lipstick on our shelves to make sure that there wasn’t one that was missed.
I’ll never forget that lady. And I often think I have turned into her when a company discontinues my favourite product… which seems to be happening regularly lately. Continue reading
Ever since I moved in to this house, I have been in a never-ending hunt for ways to clean my tub.
If I remember correctly, scrubbing the tub (and the entire main bathroom, for that matter) was one of the first things I did the day I got the keys to the place. That and eradicating a trail of ants from the kitchen counter from a sticky sweet mess left behind, as well as a load of laundry for a proud first-time owner of a laundry centre.
But for some reason, no matter how much I scrubbed with my trusty scouring powder with bleach, there were patches of darker shades of beige throughout that didn’t seem to want to come off. Technically, I knew it was clean, but it looked stained.
I don’t know much about the previous owners and occupants, but for a fifteen-year-old house, there were some signs of premature aging. There were some pieces in the house showing more wear and tear than my first apartment that was twice that age, including chips in the enamel of a sink, knife marks on the kitchen counter and some carpeting that absorbed the fallout of a kitty cat with an unfortunate bladder issue.
In the months that followed, whenever I had a few minutes, I was back at the tub, trying to clean it with the same tenacity as the Coyote trying to catch the Road Runner. I tried every product on the market and had to hold myself back from using anything deliberately abrasive, in my frustration for the stains that would not come out. Continue reading