Lost in Translation

Ali and I got new phones while she was home for Thanksgiving. It had to be done then because she's insistent that we keep getting the same phone.

I guess talking on the phone is more fun when you know it's the exact same experience on both ends?

So this week the LG Vortex rocked our worlds. Now we have scriptures, Jazz scores, dad's frequent forwards, and a variety of other distractions at our fingertips.

(No I will not tell you which of those Apps we downloaded first - priorities are personal.)

The new features are great, it was the basics we had to turn to the manual for - like how to call someone, how to turn the phone off, etc. Remember land lines?

Anyway, favorite new-phone moment: Voice Texting.  You speak into your phone, it writes your text for you, and sends it off. Perfect for when you're driving, or you hate your touch screen. Foolproof, right?

Wrong.

We practiced a little before dinner the other night. Ali held up her phone and said, "I'm ready to go, Mads."

But my phone got: "I'm a dumbass."

Guess we'll work on that.

All That Jazz

The whole family was together this year for Thanksgiving.

It's been a while.

The inside jokes came back fast. So did the sharing of past embarrassing moments.

So did contention. What? Didn't say that. (We're happy, really. Lots of love.)

And definitely a lot of the love for the Jazz.

Yeah, we beat the Hornets. But we didn't get on the Jumbotron.

It was not for lack of trying. 

The camera man was favoring cute kids and people with posters. 

Our dance moves didn't cut it for him.

Alison was in her element. I think Michael and Rachel had fun at their first NBA game, but maybe our Jumbotron efforts embarrassed them?

My parents are never phased by us dancing in public places.

We got hot dogs, but I think that just made Ali miss Hot Rod Hundley?

Then a Hornets fan stole the show. 

The Jazz Bear wanted to slide down the stairs on a sled, but the man refused to get out of the way.

Loser.

Then the timeout ended, and the Bear couldn't slide. The whole Delta Center (I will not conform to this Energy Solutions fad) booed him. 

But then we cheered when ushers took him out.

But then he came back. We watched a mother give him a finger-pointing lecture. 

I liked her.

The whole energy died in the place a little. 

Loser.

But then, the Bear came back from behind (foreshadowing of the Jazz-Lakers game tonight),

grabbed the stubborn Hornet man's hat from behind, tied it to a balloon ... and let it fly.

The man was not happy.

He did not cheer up at all when the Bear came from behind again and shoved a cake in his face.

Yeah, the energy came back. 

And yeah, he left.

And the Jazz? They didn't cheer him up at all either. 105-87, and we left happy.

Then we made it to Cedar in time to watch them play the Lakers tonight. You're welcome, Kobe.

The Irony

I'm exhausted. It's only because I have to stay up tonight. Ok, GET to stay up tonight...

Harry Potter, people!


BUT, still...I go to bed after midnight every night. Every night, right? But if I am forced to stay up that late (which only happens on Harry Potter movie premier nights and New Year's Eve), I can't do it.

Last year Ali and I had to take a nap from 9:00 to 10:30 on New Year's Eve.

I haven't been asleep at 9:00 PM since then.

It makes no sense. No sense at all.

Hurry, Boston!

She's coming!!!
That's what I'm grateful for this Thanksgiving.

Monday.
Stoked.

Battery No Longer Included

My car and I are very close.
Ok, maybe I don't even know what model it is...but I love it.
My parking permit says it is a Saturn Saturn. They wanted a model and a make. Two?
Saturn Saturn.
So that's its name now. And Saturn Saturn has spent its last two weeks sporting a "Service Engine Soon" light. That's the one you can ignore, right?


I left Saturn Saturn for a week (church history called). It rebelled.
Came home, refused to start. Michael charged it (it likes him).
Two days later, Kimberly and I had wonderful sushi plans.
Denied.
Saturn Saturn rebelled again. I resorted to negligence.
But then I needed to go somewhere.
So Michael charged it. Again. And we got in the zone (Auto Zone!)
They told me to turn on the car. Rebel. Wouldn't even start for them when they wanted to find out why it wouldn't start. Talk about stubborn.
The battery...it was shot. So we got a new one. They asked us if we needed tools. We looked at each other. Sure?
So we got the tools. And went outside. Looked at the battery.
Went back inside.
Asked the nice tool-owning Auto Zone man what he would recommend doing with the tools.
He gave some very good advice. Then we followed it.
Things went pretty smoothly, after we located and retrieved the tool that we (well, Michael, but I won't embarrass him) dropped into the car.
Pretty soon, new battery. We went inside to wash up, because we looked very legit with car stuff all over our hands.
Auto Zone's inventory was piled high in front of the Ladies bathroom door.
Sexist.
I made it in though, and washed my momentarily manly hands.
They told me Saturn Saturn needed some more TLC, but I thought it had enough for one night.
We drove home. And the Service Engine Soon light?
Gone :)

I hope I have a friend who needs a new battery soon! Except I don't because that's sad..but really...I'm a pro.