About Me

Hi, I'm Debbie. Sometimes, people like ask me what I do. Good question. I'm not always sure how to answer it myself! I'm hoping this blog helps me answer that question, or is at least fun to read along the way.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

How's Dem Apples?

We all have our comfort zones, and the self-help gurus that be would probably tell us to bust-a-move out of them.   The problem? They're called "comfort zones" for a reason.  We like our gooey-mac-n-cheese existance.  You know, until we find ourselves eating it five nights a week and would love to know how to make Indian food.  But do I have to shop someplace different?  And what do I do with all those spices? And the kids will turn up their noses and look at me all WTF, Mom?

That's just a culinary metaphor, but while I'm on it, it extends to apples.  Oh, I kind of know my Granny Smith (tart yummy-ness) from a Red Delicious (you are red, but deliciousness you're not, flour-y thing), but I'm talking Apple products.  (I'm sure I'm supposed to have a trademark thingie there; chalk that up as one more thing I don't know...yet.)

I have an iPhone.  I can call and receive emails, and do that texty thing, and take pictures, but that's about it.  Don't ask me how to share them pictures from my phone.  I think I'm using about 5% of it, much like the human brain.  I've never downloaded an app; the whole notion scares me and fills me with questions.  Does it cost money? What do I do with them? And why is my screen all full of dinks?  (I think I know that last one: keys.  Stupid case I bought doesn't save it from keys.) 

Most importantly, how do I learn this stuff?  (Sub-question: how much do I care?)  I don't go merrily off to Apple-school, where I nice teacher with pincurls and a shirt dress explains this all on a SmartBoard.  (Yeah, I watch too much Mad Men.  But at least I gave that teacher a 2012 SmartBoard.  Even if I am picturing her as white and 23.)

One possibility I've considered: go hang out in the Apple store.  There is a nice, glossy, slick one in a mall just minutes from here.  Even as things have gone south with other stores, they went double wide a year or so ago.  And I'm not lying a bit that it's slick: just shiny tables with smooth shiny surface and young gone-all-wireless folks in earbuds.  I don't think it gets dusty in there, and paper doesn't exist. 

I've wanted to go in it, but been, well, intimidated.  Like a fat person not wanting to join a gym of hard-bodies. 

But I was pretty sure they had a gizmo I need, a charger for my car.  Emboldened by my voting experience and wearing chic lookin' boots, I entered.  I passed the tables full of James-Bond-gadgets (sigh...your average toddler would never describe an iPad this way; they'd just start filming a documentary or something) to the accessories in back. 

"Where did you vote?" a voice asked me.

I felt hit-on by a younger guy--what a great business model! I told him where, and even went on to joke that I though he was asking who I voted for.  I got down to business, told him what I was looking for, was kindly brought over to the right merchandise, and passed over to some head-set clad woman who simply scanned my card with some iSomething.  Wow, this was so easy! Maybe I shouldn't be so scared of the Apple store! I asked if they have classes (because I have no idea how to use my tiny iNano music thingie which could probably somehow hold music or an audio version of Moby Dick or something...yep, I'm just.that.inept.)  Hmm...I've always braved entry into this new world, and no one laughed that I get all jiggly and sweaty on the Apple store treadmill.

Though I have a funny feeling that requesting the paper receipt over an emailed receipt is sort of like eating a Big Mac on the stairclimber.  But whatever.  A little bit of the apple is better than none at all, right?

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