 |
|
 |
Tags: acting macbook pro photos blackberry birthday politics family fashion
Published : 1 month, 2 weeks ago (Sat, 04 Oct 2008 09:48:28 PDT)
Searched: blackberry
http://natalie-faye.livejournal.com/35517.html 0 links
Related posts
Suck On That Luck
You know how you lose your lucky charm necklace with gold horse shoe, four leaf clover and pair of dice, and shake out the bag you're 100 percent certain you left it in, then turn your room upside-fecking-down while cursing like a sailor, come up with nothing, nada, zilch, sod all, and then months and months and more fecking months later, you're toting that same bag on your way to a dismal fashion show where the only highlight of the night was the goody bag stuffed with Anna Sui and then on your way home, the goody bag rips on a rusty nail sticking out of a post - like tetanus waiting to happen - and you are forced to stuff its contents into your bag, and as you do so, your fingers curl around the delicate chain of the lucky necklace that HADN'T BEEN THERE BEFORE?
I do.
C'est Tragique
Livejournal and I... we have not been bosom buddies in a while. I tried to make amends circa August 2008 but my grand return tripped over the internet and fell flat on its face. These days, I feel like I'm waging an unholy war with an invisible cyberspace enemy, hellbent on ejecting me from promised Livejournal land, so flush with armchair fashion critics and teenagers exploding with sordid tales about what they drank, how much they drank, where they drank and who they drank with. For months, it has taken approximately 10 bloody minutes to load any LJ page on my MacBook Pro (after six time outs and error pages, no less). What is UP with this shit?! Most other websites load just peachy. I am fairly certain I have not contracted the one Mac virus that allegedly exists. Have tried scanning for Trojans with MacScan... NADA. And for the record, LJ loads in record time on my underused PCs and on my old Mac Powerbook that I dug up for the sole purpose of testing this out.
Now, here I sit, painstakingly typing this entry with carpal tunnel after 20 minutes of page reloads and monomaniacal keyboard finger-stabbing (you know the golden rule: the harder and angrier you jab, the more likely your piece-of-crap machinery will quake and yield to the sheer power of your wrath).
So. Unimpressed.
Please, someone... ANYONE... tell me what the problem is! If I wasn't so in love with my layout and the concept of friends-only entries, I'd pack my cyber baggage and move to Blogspot.
Aging... Oh, Super.
On 13th September, I celebrated my sixth 21st birthday by not really celebrating at all. Friends at lunch announced to all and sundry that it was my birthday (so much for 'low key and not celebrating'), which caused the waitress to get 'Happy Birthday' put on my cake with one candle. Then, they attempted to sing me Happy Birthday but were swiftly silenced by my life-threatening allergy to being sung the birthday song. Royal Chocolate Hazelnut Mousse by Oscar's at Conrad, shopping, dancing, and Bloody Marys washed down with Red Wine and Strawberry Margaritas at Le Noir.
BlackBerry
Mine. All mine.
Meet my Blackberry Tart, friend of Apple Parfait the MacBook Pro. She is carrying on a torrid love affair with Pammy's phone, Dr. Blackberry Esq.
I'm digging the sweet grip on the black leatherette backing and the fact that it isn't touchscreen. Though I have to say, with Facebook, AIM, MSN, Googletalk and BlackBerry Messenger on the phone, my inner hermit is feeling a little TOO connected to the world. BlackBerry Messenger is pretty keen... but I know maybe three people who use BlackBerries so that diminishes its awesome level a smidgen. Pammy and I have pledged to do our part to impede the plague of iPhones, and preach the wonders of BlackBerries in hope that our proselytizing will win us more Berry Messenger buddies. Pathetic.
I shall be replying to LJ comments via Blackberry Tart, while my computer continues to diss Livejournal.
Why I Miss My Agent
Chasing down payment for acting work is akin to being a Jehovah's Witness knocking on film company doors.
Oh Brother, Obama
Barack Obama lives in my house. Every time I stroll past my brother's room, Obama's voice booms out from under the cracks of his door, waxing lyrical about lowering taxes that we are never going to pay. You know your Singaporean sibling has a problem when he has more emails in his inbox from Barack Obama, Joe Biden and David Plouffe than from actual friends. Sure, the whole family is rooting for the guy - especially when the alternative comes with a Miss Mooseburger runner-up complete with Alaskan-Midwestern hybrid accent on a shrill voice that transcends howling arctic blizzards and five wailing children. But I can't wait for this election to be over already. Then perhaps, just perhaps, I won't have to live in C-Span on top volume.
In other news, my government took away my voting privileges. I was sent an ominous letter in the mail to inform me that as punishment for failing to vote in the last election (I WAS LIVING IN AUSTRALIA, JERKS!), I have been EXPUNGED from the Registrar of Electors. Uhmm... ok?? Golly gee, is it too much to ask that someone check my immigration records - why the bloody hell do they scan your passport at the customs otherwise - and observe my residential status abroad? This is bullshit. Now I must mail them to try and get my voting rights back.
Confessions Of A Cereal Killer
Special K with Red Berries.
I swear there's heroin in those strawberries.
SO ADDICTED.
We're Just A Minor Threat
This has just come to my attention.
Sir Ben Kingsley as Ian MacKaye in Minor Threat?
You go, Gandhi!
Genetic mutations masquerading as prawns.
Bryony picked up a new MacBook Air (hereby christened B-Mac, and married to Apple Parfait, my MacBook Pro). It's too cute, too light, too awesome. Not sure I could handle an Air myself. I'd probably crack it like a wafer in 2.5 seconds after tripping over my own foot.
Le Noir.
I quite like the vampy, all-black interiors but I suspect that since turning 18 and legal many, many moons ago, clubbing has utterly lost its appeal. 1 to 2 hours and I'm bored, craving greasy food, tropical night breeze, breath that isn't soaked in beer and conversation not hollered in my ear over a Nick Warren remix.
I love this dress like a fat kid loves cake but when I got to the store, they were all out of my size (as usual). So it was EBAY TO THE RESCUE. Tracked one down on UK Ebay and bid like my life depended on it - alarm clocks to wake me up in the middle of the night, trigger happy finger, bloodshed and full-on bidding war with some bint who tried to outbid me again and again and again (FAIL!)...
I miss living in Australia where everyone was taller and bigger, and stores were never out of hobbit sizes.
|
natalie_faye
|
|
|
| More results for "blackberry" |
|
This is cached version of livejournal post retrieved by LjSEEK on 2008-10-04 11:25:28 . Post may have changed since that time. Click here for actual post version. LjSEEK.COM is not affiliated with author of this post and is not responsible for its content.
These search terms have been highlighted: blackberry |
Disable Highlighting
|
natalie_faye's Search:
|
|
