Sunday, February 12, 2012

Siri is My Nemesis

This is one of those "I haven't written in so long" type of entries. It's going to be slightly void of words because after a month-long hiatus, I am hardly ready to start writing the next great American novel (that will be my next entry). Plus, I just got an iPhone, went on a trip, and got the Instagram app all in the same week. Who needs words?

I used the Instagram filter "Toaster" - arguably the most pretentious
This is a picture of my new iPhone. It's an early birthday present from my parents. I'm unreal excited about it. This is probably old news for everyone else, but for me, this is huge. A week ago, I had this terrible LG number that literally smelled like burning flesh when I charged it and is probably the preferred cellphone of Moses (get it?...cause he's old...and dead...and biblical...you know...and like...burning bush..............beard....). Now, I have this gorgeous, all-knowing device at my fingertips at all times of the day. I am never going to take it for granted. 

There is a function of the iPhone 4S that is pretty cool, but also super mean. It's called Siri. It's basically this lady who lives in your phone who hates you. Let me explain. Wait no. That's the best explanation. 

Basically you ask her things with your voice. You could say "Hey Siri, what is the weather like outside?" and she'll tell you the weather, or you could be like "Hey Siri, where can I find a cupcake shop within walking distance?" and she gives you a list of cupcake establishments. Basically, she is supposed to deliver on your commands (this video will probably explain it better than I can. I'm really tired). When I first heard about her, I thought it might be the closest I would ever get to having a genie. 

But Siri will not be ordered around. No sir. For example, just a minute ago I asked her if she would make me pancakes and she was all "no". Typical Siri. Too high and mighty to make anyone else pancakes. Fun fact: when I asked Siri to make me pancakes, Daniel was in the living room, unaware of why I was asking this, and he responded "now?"...Love him. If Apple replaced Siri with Daniel, it would be a win-win.

Then Siri and I had a conversation that went like this:

Me: Who am I?
Siri: You're Christy, aren't you?
Me: I want you to call me pickle pants.
Siri: OK, from now on I will call you "people pans", OK?
Me: No.
Siri: OK.
Me: Call me pickle pants.
Siri: There are 25 stores that match "pickle". You may want to call them.
Me: That does me no good.
Siri: Christy, I don't really like these arbitrary categories.
Me: Do you hate me?
Siri: That may be possible. 

So I've got this mean lady living in my phone who hates me and uses my name only to emphasize her annoyance. Siri makes me miss Smarter Child AND THAT'S SAYING SOMETHING.

I'm not going to let her spoil my iPhone experience though (that's probably what she wants). This thing is still opening all kinds of doors for me.

Yearning
This is the first picture I ever instagramed (is that a thing? How should I say it? Look. Just let me be me). Instagram, by the way, for those who don't know, is a hip app you can get that makes all of your photos look like they've been aging in a box in your prone-to-flooding basement for the past 20 years. 

Anyway, the picture above is a lantern on my desk in my apartment, but I've titled it "yearning" because I like to think that the lantern is longing for it's freedom. Thoughts? Should I enter this in photo festivals? Just kidding. I'm not doing this for the fame. 

Wait. Should I be doing this for the fame?

I'm also playing Angry Birds and I am finally understanding the things people were talking about in 2010. Pigs, man. They are the worst. Their defense system is completely penetrable, but often not on the first try. (I just realized my mom might not understand a lot of what I've written in this entry. Sorry, Mom.) 

Anyway, back to Instagram. This past weekend, Daniel and I went on a mini-vacation to Fort Worth. I instagramed every picture we took so that it looks like we actually took the trip in the 1970s. You're welcome.

Dan driving. The year is 1977. Jimmy Carter has just been elected president.


Vanity Shot #1. Don't worry. Plenty more to come.


We stopped in Waco on the way. I cried a little. It was a little strange.


We stopped at the Czech Stop in West, Texas. I got this evil bear. Don't worry. He can't harm your children. I ate him.


Vanity Shot #2. This helps assure me that I must look like this all the time. 


Delicious food. Circa 1977.

More delicious food.


Trippy lights. Like we're at some disco...like it's 1977.


Daniel eating a burger at In-N-Out. He ordered off the secret menu like he's better than me or something.


This is when I noticed that the camera on the front of my iPhone flips the image. My bangs go the other way. 


Daniel standing in front of some fancy art.


My most pretentious instagram yet.


I'll leave it at that. If you want to see more pictures from our trip, you are probably my Facebook friend and you've probably already looked at them, so I probably should delete this sentence.

In summary: 

1. I like my new iPhone.
2. If I am mysteriously murdered, interrogate Siri.
3. Instagram is kind of dumb and I hate myself for loving it.
4. Pigs and birds will never be peaceful. You're living a lie if you think that sort of thing is possible. 
5. Fort Worth is a great little town. We'll be back. 
6. I used way more words than I thought I would in this post. 



4 comments:

  1. I wonder if Siri trash talks you when you're not around?

    ReplyDelete
  2. based on my knowledge of the terminator, the matrix, and wall-e, siri is already plotting your (and the human race's) demise. welp, it was fun while it lasted, and I for one welcome our new robot overlords.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Siri is kind of cold. I finally called her on it. I told her she hates me. She said I was certainly entitled to that opinion. Later, I tried to placate her by telling her she's my BFF. She told me she really doesn't like these arbitrary categories. I'll have to come to terms with the fact that she doesn't want to be my BFF.

    ReplyDelete

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