I have two different kinds of GPS apps on my iPhone. I also have a glove compartment full of maps my well-meaning dad gave me when I first started driving. Given my unique ability to get lost even when driving through my own tiny 27 mile hometown, I’m sure he figured I’d need the help.
What he didn’t figure was my total lack of directional ability. Frankly, when it comes to reading maps, I’m about as hopeless as Chris Brown at a NOW convention. It just ain’t gonna work.
Usually, I can find my way around town via Google Maps, which I tend to send to my email before embarking on any unknown routes, since I don’t always trust the version on my iPhone to know exactly where I am when I’m already moving. I’ve already had far too many screeching u-turns to catch a left at a stop sign I’d already passed two blocks before the list of directions even loaded. Trust me, a talking (and rapidly updating) GPS device has been on my birthday wish list since the things were invented.
But, until my constant lost lateness wears someone I love down enough to merit them shelling out for a fancy GPS system, I’m sorry to say I won’t know the pain Michelle Slatalla details in this week’s excellent edition of the Wife/Mother/Worker/Spy column in the New York Times. In it, Slatalla mourns the loss of getting lost, and bemoans the fact that once you know exactly how to get where you’re going, you never really get to explore the journey again.
It’s a poignant piece, as most of her writing usually is, and it almost made me glad that despite my constant connectivity, I still have one weakness that even all my wireless technology can’t fix. Maybe my sheer inability to master modern technology’s virtual guarantee that you can go anywhere and never got lost again is actually a good thing. Maybe it means I get to enjoy the journey just a little bit more than all those linear people who understand directions and get places on time. Maybe if I could just stop cursing and sweating about my lateness long enough to stop and smell the exhaust fumes I might be able to appreciate my travels more than all those other drivers clogging up the freeways with their GPS-recommended routes. Or maybe someone should just hurry up and get me a damn GPS device already.
See this post in its original format on Speed LA Dating.
Alright, so you and your significant other are about to enjoy one of the perks of a perfect match — otherwise known as ‘getting busy.’ You’ve got the candles lit, the curtains drawn and the massage oil standing by. Sweet, sexy sounds are streaming in from your iPod, and everything’s perfect. Until the next track comes on.
Nothing can ruin the mood quite like your date finding out your iPod is just as likely to play Miley Cyrus as Marvin Gaye. Of course, you can always build a ‘passion playlist,’ but that takes time. And, if you’ve got any sort of sex life, that playlist will probably play itself out after a few rounds of play. After all, there’s only one kind of getting stuck that you want in the bedroom, and it ain’t the kind that involves a routine.
That’s why God (or Cupid) invented Pandora. Using its proprietary music genome technology, Pandora will automatically build a custom playlist based on any artist or song. Basically, the site hones in on certain traits of the tunes you give it, and uses those traits to pick a whole playlist of similar songs.
If you’re into rhythmic drums, hard bass lines and minimal vocals, it’ll build you what amounts to an entire radio station of that particular kind of music. If uptempo jazz beats and classical orchestration are more your thing, then that’s what you’ll get. It’s instant, personalized gratification of the sort people spend years trying to achieve in the bedroom. And it comes as quickly as a push of a button. (Bet you thought I was going to make a dirty pun there, didn’t you?)
Anyway, with almost a century’s worth of music in its database, Pandora — unlike most men — will never bore you with the same moves twice. With Pandora, you’ll always have a new playlist to put on when you’re looking to get turned on. And anyone who has ever gotten it on to the sweet sounds of a Sade or a Sam Cooke knows that nothing makes the mood quite like a little mood music.
Basically, if variety is the spice of life, think of Pandora as cinammon for whatever you’re baking in the boudoir. Because a little sugar in your bowl is good and all, but sugar and spice is just so much more nice.
What’s In A Name?
Ever had to think about the possibilities of a leopard eating a twittering bird, while wearing a red hat and being watched by an android who just happened to take a break from reading wikipedia and look out the windows of his pod? Yeah, that’s right. I just Taxi Driver’d web 2.0. Still, in case you wondering where new technology gets all of its wacky names, PC World has broken down the backstories of some of the most common (and most oddly-named) tech innovations of the past few years. It’s actually a really interesting article. Who knew so much thought (and fashion sense) went into the naming of Red Hat? Of course, the most interesting name in the whole article is the author’s — Thomas Wailgum. Clearly, someone is planning to launch some sort of crying gum machine in the near future…
I’m very excited that I remembered to update my blog today. 2 days down, who knows how many more are to go. In the spirit of moving forward, here’s an incredible video that Tyler sent me. The implications are awesome, but what’s even more awesome is the idea that this entire thing could one day get integrated into your nailpolish. Fashion and futuristic technology together at last. Bestill my big, nerdy heart.