Cell Phone Investigation Cont.

I am still investigating cell phones and what I want to move to next. I have narrowed it town to two models: the Handspring Treo 600 and the Sony-Ericsson P900.

The Handspring Treo 600 is set to be released this October and makes up for a number of the issues (this is a great video showing it off)I didn't like with the earlier Treos. I think I will go with the GSM version -- better battery life for a little bit slower connection speed.

The biggest drawbacks to the device are: 1) No Bluetooth and 2) Small Screen (160 x 160 pixels seems so meager given their new Tungsten T3 has 320 x 480.)

The other contender is the Sony-Ericsson P900 . So far the one review I have read says that is merely an improved version of the existing P800 but that seems to be enough as my co-worker raves about this P800 and he is a picky gadget guy.
The downsides to this PDA: 1) No keyboard, 2) Uses Symbian OS (which is a plus too, but it doesn't support the oodles of Palm applications already out there.

Of course here comes the real frustrating part: The P900 is not supposed to be out in the UK until end of November with no hints of any release in the US. My co-worker had to import his here. As for the Handspring, there are rumors that there is space on the motherboard for Bluetooth and that Handspring is planning on doing different editions (e.g. 600 Pro) that offer Bluetooth and perhaps a better screen for more money. THAT would be the device for me.

More dreaming of gadgets.

You can see my nipples!

Ok, maybe is just the firm outline of my erect nipples from this freezing arctic blast of "fall" weather we have been having. This morning, my car said it was 43 degrees. Eeep.

Alas, the days of wearing shorts to the gym are over -- too much opportunity for the nippy weather to do damage to my nipples.

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I had another weird dream last night. I was an orphan, living in this weird 18th century cottage-house with a Martin Short-looking caretaker. There were about ten of us and the upstairs room was really a church, covered in dark stained wood and dim stained glass. The really odd part was the fact that the ceilings were 4 feet high and you hand to really stoop to get around to get to a pew.

And then there was this elevator that was crashing / falling. But it started sliding and rotating in the shaft so the elevator was on its site.

My dreams never make any sense.

We want your soul.

Show us Your Habits, Your Facts, Your Fears
Give us your address, your shoe size, your years
your digits, your plans, your number, your eyes
your schedule, your desktop, your details, your life.
Show us your children, your photos, your home.
Here, take credit, take insurance, take a loan.
Get a job, get a pension, get a haircut, get a suit.
Play the lottery, play football, play the field, sports to boot

We want your Soul.

Your cellphoneyour wallet, your time, your ideas
No barcode, no party, no iodine, no beers
your bankcard, your license, your thoughts, your fears
no simcard, no disco, no photo, not here
your blood, your sweat, your passions, your regrets
your office, your timeoff, your fashions, your sex
your tits, your pass, your face, your ass.

Bonus: Sell your soul for cash!

(Also linked from that site is internetisshit.org; to quote: Give an infinite number of monkeys typewriters and they'll produce the works of Shakespeare. Unfortunately, I feel like I'm reading all the books where they didn't. I can't wait for the day when the internet makes me rejoice in its possibilities again. But right now, it's shit.

The start of the slide

I have been calling Frank every couple of days now; e-mail is prohibitive because it is at the top of two flights of stairs.

The conversations are much more broken than our visit -- the lungs have closed up even more and every conversation is shorter and shorter. The pill dosage has increased; the haziness is setting in.

Every conversation breaks my heart a little -- the act of me trying to find out how he is sets him back a little more. 6,000 miles away and getting farther by the minute.