People often assume that my life is chock full of fanciness, simply by virtue of being a Fancy Pants lady. However, though my delicate buttocks may be gently cradled by trousers handcrafted in Claude Monet's gardens of Giverny and stitched with threads spun from the hair of Marie-Antoinette's finest wig, my phone is not nearly so glamorous.
For instance, when feeling particularly ill-tempered, it refuses to search for web pages with the lazy excuse that the page "might be temporarily down or it may have moved permanently to a new address." Really, phone? Google.com left for the greener pastures of Schmoogle.com? Wikipedia is done due to a revival of door-to-door encyclopedia sales? Society's appetite for silly cat photography and pictures of other people's babies has been sated? Says my phone, "Eh. Could be."
Granted, my phone's an older model, and while true fanciness has no age limit, this may explain why it's so crochety. It's also foreign, which is probably why it wants so desperately to suck the benefits of Lady Liberty's 3G teat while contributing absolutely nothing to society.
Sometimes I long for the fancier days of technology - swan-necked, gilded French telephones, switchboard operators who eavesdrop and blackmail their way to upward mobility, and busy signals that clearly announce to the caller that one is speaking to someone more socially significant. But most times I just want the Groupon for my limited edition Princess Diana commemorative replica rhinestone tiara to download in fewer than 20 minutes.
For instance, when feeling particularly ill-tempered, it refuses to search for web pages with the lazy excuse that the page "might be temporarily down or it may have moved permanently to a new address." Really, phone? Google.com left for the greener pastures of Schmoogle.com? Wikipedia is done due to a revival of door-to-door encyclopedia sales? Society's appetite for silly cat photography and pictures of other people's babies has been sated? Says my phone, "Eh. Could be."
Granted, my phone's an older model, and while true fanciness has no age limit, this may explain why it's so crochety. It's also foreign, which is probably why it wants so desperately to suck the benefits of Lady Liberty's 3G teat while contributing absolutely nothing to society.
Sometimes I long for the fancier days of technology - swan-necked, gilded French telephones, switchboard operators who eavesdrop and blackmail their way to upward mobility, and busy signals that clearly announce to the caller that one is speaking to someone more socially significant. But most times I just want the Groupon for my limited edition Princess Diana commemorative replica rhinestone tiara to download in fewer than 20 minutes.
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