An insider's Guide to working with AT&T Wireless (Or A Phone of One's Own, Part 3)

Have you read the story of how many times I got conflicting information about procuring a new phone through AT&T? Are you thinking about using my advice on buying a new phone from someone other than AT&T but not sure if that's the right choice for you? Are you as confused as I was by AT&T in general, but specifically about the differences between AT&T Next and the traditional  system of wireless contracts? Then read on for a crash course.

In the past, getting a new phone every two years was as simple as renewing your contract and saying thank you. Maybe if you were into newfangled technology, you'd have to pay a bit for your fancy-schmancy handset, but you got a hefty discount as long as you renewed the contract. This is still possible, but AT&T is moving away from this system. Nowadays, most everyone is using a fancy-schmancy phone, and it's not economical for AT&T (and, from what I hear, other carriers as well) to continue offering them for next to nothing. So they are encouraging all their customers to switch to the new AT&T Next plan, where you buy your own phone (still at a discount, but a smaller one than you would get with the new contract), but in exchange, you pay a lower per-line monthly access fee (if you're using the Mobile Share Value billing plan). Although I didn't believe it at first, you actually save money in the long run by going with AT&T Next (because if you choose the new-phone-with-contract option, you lose that discount on your access fee). If you're as skeptical as I was, check out this handy calculator that they have created for you.

Now, here are a few caveats. They kept specifying that this pricing system applies to the Mobile Share Value Plan. If there are still other plans available, and if you're on one, I don't know whether it's still going to be cheaper to use the AT&T Next purchasing option. But since that's the plan I'm on, I'm telling you how it is for me! The other caveat: AT&T also allows you to bring your own device. If you are willing to do the extra research and the shopping around, you can almost certainly get the same phone for less if you buy it from another retailer. That's what I chose to do (the phone that I chose isn't even available through AT&T).

What is a Mobile Share Value plan? Well, I don't know exactly. What I do know is that while before, my line was allotted a certain number of gigabytes of data all to itself, now everyone on my family plan is sharing all the data in one big pool (cue the "MOM! Billy's hogging all the data!")

If you are going to put on your gauntlets and do business with AT&T Customer Service or visit a retail store, I strongly encourage you to do four things first:

1. Make sure you are an authorized retail user. If you're on a family plan, only the account holder has permission to actually make changes to the account. But an authorized retail user, such as Yours Truly (I'd like to thank my dad for making this possible!) can buy a phone and renew his or her contract and things like that. This is a must for those who are geographically separated from the account holder by 500 miles or thereabouts. You will need to get the account holder to add you as a user, but once you have, your life will be easier by at least 5-fold.
2. Make sure you have the last four digits of the account holder's social security number. Even if you're an authorized user, they won't allow you access to account details without additional proof of authorization. For example, I could not get the refund on my ill-advised SIM card purchase until I provided these magic numbers.
3. If you're going to visit an AT&T store, make an appointment first. When I arrived for mine on a Sunday afternoon, I was the only one with an appointment, which automatically put me ahead of the 7 walk-ins on the waiting list. Even so, I had to stand around waiting for a good 10 minutes, and then someone messed around with the wait list and accidentally removed my name before I was called, just adding to the annoyingly long wait and obliging me to have a loud conversation with my boyfriend about what had happened to my name until an employee noticed I'd been skipped over. This leads me to my 4th point.
4. Be ready to be proactive.* There are some very stupid people working for AT&T. All sorts of accidents happen and all sorts of misinformation are dispensed like candy. Everything you get told, check and double-check. It's a hassle, but it's better than getting billed too much, which seems to be the usual result of these miscommunications.

And lastly, before you put on those gauntlets, be aware of the distinction between AT&T and an AT&T Authorized Retailer. This is a tricky one, because AT&T authorized retailers are apparently allowed to have huge signs with the AT&T logo (albeit with the words "authorized retailer" next to the logo). They can look just like an AT&T store, but they can apparently charge you 20$ for a SIM card which a company store would give you for free. Who knows what insidious other ways they may be different!? So be cautious when shopping; visit an Authorized Retailer at your own risk, and be sure to double check on any of the fees before you hand over your credit card.

Following these steps to success, I am pretty sure that you can navigate the morass of confusion and have a happy (OK, OK, I'll settle for semi-functional) relationship with your cellular service provider!

*Some people would argue that my strategy for getting service in point #3 would be better classified as passive-aggressive, not proactive, to which I have to agree, if it had been an actual strategy. To my credit, at the time, I was just trying to figure out what had occurred and not actually opening a conscious bid for attention. It just happened that the issue did get resolved without my having to actually approach anyone—phew! Another win for the avoidant person in me!

How to buy and bring your own phone to AT&T (Or, A Phone of One's Own, Part 2)

Last post, I recounted the story of how I finally weaned myself off carrier-subsidized cell phones and took the plunge into the free market. If you're looking to buy a phone through the non-traditional route as I did, look no further! Or considering how much flying by the seat of my pants I've been doing, maybe, you should look a little further, but start here at least!

Last things first

Because I think this was what my dad wanted to know when he requested the details of my experience, I will first share what I had to do to make my newly purchased phone work once I received it. In theory, this should have been easy. The phone was already unlocked to work with any carrier and even already charged! I should have just been able to put my old SIM card in the new phone and begin making calls (this worked consistently when I kept switching back and forth between the iPhone 3G and the 3GS). Unfortunately, I hit a road block this time. Apparently, SIM cards come in too many sizes. I'd already learned this when I had to get a new SIM to switch from the iPhone 3G (standard SIM) to the iPhone 4 (Micro SIM). With the new Droid Mini, I had to downsize again to a Nano SIM. Which necessitated a visit to the AT&T store to get my SIM card replaced. Once that was done, it was smooth sailing. My new phone worked like a charm!

So the moral of that story is that actually getting a phone to work with your network is probably the easy part. 

Now, let me give you some helpful pointers I learned along the way about the hard part: buying a phone in the first place. Then, because this turns out to be a lot to digest at once, I'll follow up with one last post on understanding the mysterious beast that is AT&T. Now let's get shopping!

Know what you want

For me, my priorities in getting a new phone shifted a lot over the month or so that I was searching for one. Originally I really just wanted a small Android phone that worked fast and had a good battery (preferably replaceable). Then I realized, I really needed a half-decent camera for those spontaneous Unfashion pics I might need to take at work. While shopping, I found a number of phones that take microSD storage cards, which I thought sounded like a nifty way to transfer music and files from my phone to the computer and other devices...until I realized that most of the SD cards are buried under batteries and back panels and aren't really intended to be swapped in and out all the time. So that went off my priority list again, and I settled for a phone with an average battery just because it was cheaper. But all that aside, whatever your priorities are, you can probably use phonearena.com to help you find them. This site has a detailed advanced search feature and a nifty tool that'll let you compare the actual sizes of different handsets. Their staff reviews are also really thorough, though reviews of old phones do not really reflect how they compare to modern phones. Once you know what it is you're looking for, it's time to consider the things you might not even know you're looking for.

Carrier-locked vs. Unlocked

Some phones can only be used with certain carriers. When you buy a phone directly from a carrier, it is usually locked to work on their network alone. For example, you cannot pop your AT&T SIM card into a T-Mobile phone and expect it to work unless the phone is unlocked first. Now, you can unlock almost any phone, sometimes for free, but usually for a cost that can vary quite wildly. So if you're shopping for a new phone, I recommend buying one that's either already unlocked (this is different from jailbroken, by the way) or is keyed to the carrier you are going to use. I hear that they have just passed some law that makes it legal (read: easier) to unlock your phone at any time, so if you're planning to sell your phone, I'd recommend getting it unlocked first, because that way you can sell it for more money, since there will be a higher demand for it! 

CDMA vs. GSM

It's an alphabet soup out there in the phone-buying world, and the first acronyms you'll probably run accross are CDMA and GSM. Apparently, not only can phones be deliberately locked to a specific network, but different carriers use completely different technologies to provide cellular service. Carriers that take SIM cards use GSM bands, and carriers that don't take them use CDMA—or something like that. Some phones are set up for both services, but others are not. If you use a GSM carrier and buy a CDMA phone, you will not get far. In most listings on eBay (where I bought my phone), the band will be listed in the specifications, so pay close attention to that. Theoretically, you can also use specific band version numbers to find out whether your phone supports 3G or 4G data, but that wasn't a huge priority to me, so I didn't investigate it much.

So far so good? Here's just a little example to confuse you all over again. Verizon is traditionally a CDMA carrier, and AT&T is GSM. You would think this would mean that, as an AT&T customer, I should have steered clear of Verizon phones. However, being the renegade I am (or just the pennypincher who will take any risk to save a few bucks), I bought a Verizon phone, because the seller had stated clearly that it was unlocked and would work on AT&T's network. When I brought it to the AT&T store for activation, the salesman got a very worried expression on his face. But he installed the SIM card anyway, and, voila! It worked. This just goes to show you, nothing is for certain in this world!

Bad ESN or IMEI

Here come some more meaningless letters! I don't know what they stand for, but apparently if a person's phone is lost or stolen, or if it is linked to a contract that hasn't been paid, it can be reported by the carrier as having a bad ESN or IMEI, and it won't work. Not only that, but you could be potentially breaking the law by using it! If you see a phone for sale with any mention of a "Bad" ESN or IMEI in the listing, just keep on scrolling. I think it might be possible to get these phones to work outside of the US, but here in the States, it's better to be safe and legal than sorry.

Woohoo! You've just learned in 5 minutes what it took me several days of phone shopping to begin to understand. Now you should be ready to explore that handset market with confidence. And, if you aren't already comatose from information overload, stay tuned for my next post, which I hope will clarify some of the murky waters surrounding everyone's favorite carrier (or at least, the one I'm currently using, AT&T Wireless!)

A phone of one's own

I've had a cell phone since I was gifted a stylish Motorola StarTAC when I turned 16 in 1999.

Thus began my long relationship with cell phones: I've gotten 1 as a gift, 5 as hand-me-downs or on extended loan, 3 free with a contract, and 1 at a discount with a contract. I've gone through 10 handsets and been a phone-carrying mobile user for 15 years, yet never, in all that time, have I had to actually buy a phone from a retailer! 

But all that changed this summer. 

I lost my HTC One X in Indonesia in June. I was actually not very disappointed, because I'd been annoyed with the size and battery life of that phone pretty much ever since I'd gotten it, and I'd just been biding my time until I could renew my contract (which I estimated to be sometime in June) and get a smaller phone. However, upon my return to the States, I learned that, not only was there no such thing as a small smartphone any more, but AT&T had changed their pricing and would no longer be providing free or heavily discounted phones to users who renew their contract. I wasn't keen to spend full price on a brand-new phone, especially on some giant phone on some dumb installment plan, so I started shopping around. At first, I was gung-ho to find a new phone that would suit me, but I soon learned that good phones are not cheap, and there weren't even any phones out there that I considered good enough to be worth the price. 

So I switched from using my backup antique iPhone 3G to using my boyfriend's slightly less old iPhone 3GS, and contented myself with that until something better should come around. 

Then I broke his screen and the drama started afresh. After a few days, I repaired the screen for 63 dollars, but within a few more days, I stopped picking up a signal (I must have damaged the antenna too—what a waste of 63 dollars!), so I switched back to my antique iPhone. Then after a couple weeks of cursing my phone's existence, I got a Micro-SIM card for 25 dollars and switched to my boyfriend's slightly newer iPhone 4, learned it really was still possible to get a discounted phone by renewing your contract and that I'd overpaid for the SIM card (what a waste of 25 dollars!) and that I still don't like iPhones no matter how new they are, got a courtesy refund on the SIM card, learned it would be cost-ineffective to the others on my family plan to get an upgraded phone by renewing my contract, and started shopping again for new phones that would suit me. 

This time I lowered my standards and resigned myself to paying around 200 dollars for a phone that I might like slightly more than the HTC One X or the iPhone 4. Yesterday, I finally took the plunge. I have returned to my Motorola roots and bought myself a used DROID Mini on eBay (for 148 dollars, including charging accessories).

Yes, this is a long story, and it is really only the introduction to my true purpose: sharing the lessons I've learned from this phone buying adventure. When I told my dad my plans for buying an aftermarket handset, he asked me to provide a narration of what I needed to do, since he has a friend who needs to buy a new phone. And that made me realize, what with AT&T's new pricing structure, there are probably lots of first-time phone-buyers out there who are just as bewildered by this whole process as I was. 

So here I am to save the day! For the past month and a half, phones have consumed my thoughts. In my next post, I will share all those thoughts with you! Soon we will all be experts on navigating the seamy underworld that is basically any marketplace beyond your carrier's friendly neighborhood store.

Pet Peeves

If you were reading my blog about 5 months ago, you were introduced to the unholy terror known to those who love him (do such people really exist?) as Jack Jack (I shortened his name to Jack in the last post), the dog with no control over his bodily functions or his compulsion to frolic in the trash. In those 5 months, he has not seemed to learn anything.

Several times a week, I come home to garbage strewn through the house, poop on the floor, knicknacks knocked off the shelves, sometimes broken (he climbs like a cat, but he's a lot less graceful about it), and, always, a cowering, quivering dog somewhere in the vicinity of ground zero.

Jack Jack cringing in anticipation of his tongue-lashing

Jack Jack begging for mercy

His terror of being yelled at trumps his excitement to see me, so he no longer approaches me eagerly and pees on my shoes, but that same terror usually causes him to pee wherever he is currently located (usually on the couch) instead. This is not an improvement.

I have become quite irritated by this whole state of affairs. After all, it was Al's decision (without any consultation with me) to bring the dog into my house, yet it is I (being the first one home every day) who always has to deal with the messy consequences. So after months of getting progressively angrier every time I found a mess, now when there's a disaster in the house upon my arrival, I've taken to calling my boyfriend home from whatever he's doing (usually hitting the gym) to clean up after his dog.

I don't think anyone would be much surprised to hear me say that I'm not feeling particularly charitable to the canine species at present, but I've just recently realized it's not just dogs that are a thorn in my side; it's dog owners—or maybe more specifically, dog walkers.

Allow me to explain. Every day, I ride my bike to work. I don't like to waste time, so I travel as fast as I can pedal for the entire trip. My speed is not usually a problem to other people. The trail that takes me most of the way to the office is a nice wide paved route with a yellow dividing line. When I pass other bikers or pedestrians, they generally let me by without complaint. But the dog-walking-crowd—they're just a whole breed apart.

The only times I've ever taken any flak while riding my bike, it's always been from some high-strung woman walking a dog. Once I passed a dog-walker from behind (on the opposite side of the dividing line) and got screamed at: "You're supposed to WARN people when you pass them!" Another time, I came down a hill right where the bike trail intersects a street, and a dog-walker approaching the trail from my left yelled at me: "Slow down!"

Call me insensitive, but I don't feel remotely guilty about either of these incidents. I was riding my bike on a bike trail. Yes, it's open to pedestrians as well, but if you're going to be walking on it, you should expect to encounter a few bikes, most likely doing what bikes do—which is move faster than you and your dog can do on foot. I don't get all bent out of shape and start shouting when I have to brake because somebody's dog is taking up the whole trail, even though it's clearly divided into two lanes; and I think it's reasonable to expect dog walkers not to act hysterical because a biker comes near them moving fast.

To be fair, this has only happened two times, but one bad experience can color your opinions forever! And right now, because of these two incidents, my opinion of dog-walking-ladies is that they are a bunch of overreacting ninnies.

So to recap, and so as not to let my rant go to waste, a moral! The lesson every dog owner can take away from this post is: if you want to own a dog, then be prepared to accept the consequences of owning a dog. Don't move your dog into someone else's home and then expect them to clean up after it all the time. And if you don't feel comfortable walking your dog around people on bikes, then don't walk your dog where there are people on bikes! That's easy!

Chocolate Chip Cookie from Epcot Center

Shortly after my macaroni lunch at Epcot Center, I picked up a chocolate chip cookie at the Norway Pavilion.

By this time I was no longer hungry, but I couldn't resist the temptation to get a Giant Cookie at such an exotic locale. So I did, wrapping it in a napkin, folding part of the paper plate over it, stuffing it in my purse, and hoping for the best. I carried it around with me for the rest of the day, through Mexico, FutureWorld, and the land of Imagination...dragging it along on my ferry ride to the Magic Kingdom...shoving it into my suitcase for my trip back to DC...and keeping it in a drawer at home for a couple more days.

This is what it looked like when I finally ate it.

 

Having survived that much abuse, my Norway cookie shouldn't be faulted for not being at its peak of deliciousness, but...the taste didn't do much for me. There was something slightly chemical about it. Maybe it absorbed too many fumes from my sunscreen. I'll give it the benefit of a doubt.

Texture, similarly, was acceptable, but not exceptional.

The white medallion at the center, probably this cookie's one point of distinction, didn't really do anything to enhance, being a bit soft and not having any noticeable flavor.

Unsurprisingly for a cookie bought at an amusement park, it was kind of pricey (but could have been worse), weighing in at 100 grams (give or take; it's hard to accurately weigh a cookie which has lost a portion of its mass in your purse) and costing $2.59, or 2.6¢ per gram.

All in all, another run-of-the-mill Giant Cookie to scratch off my list.

The Bottom Line:

Taste:
Texture:
Price:

Nudel Gratin from Epcot Center

 

Whilst visiting Disney World's Epcot Center last weekend, I had the singular experience of buying both a Giant Cookie and a Macaroni in the same day!
 

The cookie review is coming soon! Read on to find out what I thought of the macaroni!

 

But before you begin, you should know that, at the time I consumed this pasta dish, I was participating in a little thing they call "Drink Around the World" which is something boozers like to do at Epcot Center, because it is the only Disney Park that serves alcohol. To play this game, you buy an alcoholic beverage at every international pavilion in the park. And then if you're hardcore, you get pictures with the staff of every pavilion and/or make them sign your T-shirt or mug or whatever else you have custom designed for the purpose. There are 11 pavilions in the park. I myself, not being capable of consuming 11 alcoholic drinks in a day, and not a fan of asking strangers for favors, was sort of half-heartedly drinking around the world, which is to say I got a drink when it struck my fancy and had a few sips of my boyfriend's drink when it didn't. Despite my determined moderation, I was still fairly intoxicated by the time I ate my macaroni. This means, of course, that my judgment, as far as the quality of my food, may not have been 100% accurate.

But that said, I rather enjoyed it. The flavor was good, the top was pretty crusty, and I was able to eat the whole thing. The texture was a little different from other macaronis I have known, being somewhat mushy and wet, rather like an overly eggy quiche, but hey! It was vegetarian food in an amusement park—I won't complain.

The macaroni was purchased at the Germany pavilion and was called by the decidedly German name of "nudel gratin". It appeared to be baked and came in a rectangular shape, which I have to say is a first for my macaroni reviews.

Rating

On the whole, I rate it 1 happy noodle for satisfying my hunger (and thirst for the unusual) and 1 sad noodle for the rather unappetizing texture.

 

The Mood Noodle rating system is not based on a fixed scale, but is a much more subjective system based on what makes me happy and what makes me sad.
Any number of happy noodles and comparatively few sad noodles constitute a good rating.

Au Bon Pain Chocolate Chip Cookies

When I opened my free lunch at the Drupal conference I mentioned in my other blog, I was delighted to find a Giant Cookie gracing my lunchbox.

While I reserved judgment (and consumption) until after I could verify its weight and whether it was indeed large enough to qualify as a Giant Cookie, my eating companions all proclaimed this to be a very good cookie. And now that I have eaten one (or 2, or 3...) I have to agree.

It was crispy on the edges, top, and bottom, but delightfully soft on the inside. Rather like a sandwich cookie, only better. The taste was yummy, rich and chocolatey, something you'll never get from an average Oreo.

Because these cookies came in a catered box lunch, I can't accurately rate their price, but they were 75g each, and I wouldn't mind paying at least 2¢ a gram for them.

The Bottom Line

Taste:
Texture:

My crowning achievement

Long, long ago, I mentioned that I might want to talk about the experience of having my tooth crowned. Well, months later, I'm finally getting around to it.

But let's start at the beginning.

I'm not sure whether it was the strain inflicted by my braces, or that time I bit into a coaxial cable and electrocuted my mouth, but around the time I started high school, my left front tooth (that's #9, as I've learned from hearing countless dental professionals talk) started to hurt and then turned grey. It was dead as a doornail, and so, for some reason, that necessitated a root canal. Fast forward to 10-ish years later, and a dentist finally told me the ugly truth: because of the root canal, my tooth was much more fragile than the others and prone to breakage...and because of it being a front tooth, that could be catastrophic. They recommended a crown to protect it from such a fate. Of course, they also recommended a bunch of cosmetic procedures like Invisalign and whitening, so I checked online to verify that they didn't just want my money for something unnecessary. The Internet corroborated their story, so I made my appointments to get a crown.

I had no idea what I was getting myself into! I hadn't bothered to use the Internet to find out what getting a crown actually entailed, and I naively imagined that they would just glue a coating on top of my existing tooth and be done. I was kind of shocked when they started anesthetizing my mouth and telling me they'd be cutting into my gums.

Then they got out the drill. I was not expecting this either, but apparently they had to shape the existing tooth for fitting the crown over it. I've had more than my fair share of dental work in my day, so this didn't really bother me, but the water that they were streaming into my mouth did. It kept streaming right out again, down the side of my face and into my hair.

Finally, eventually, they were done. As the dentist and technicians busied themselves at the counter by my chair, I had an exploratory poke around my mouth with my tongue. My tooth was all but gone. My lower lip sank into the gap, making me feel like a mush mouth (even more of a mush mouth than I already felt with 3 shots of local anesthetic doing their work), and I'm sure I would have eventually drooled. My mouth hadn't been in this state since I was 6 years old. But I don't remember it feeling like this then, either.

Eventually, sometime in the process of taking castings of my mouth and trying to fit a temporary crown, they gave me a mirror, and I saw the monstrosity that my tooth had become. They'd whittled it down to a cone, a snaggle tooth in a  bed of bloody gums [Lucky you, I lost that photo along with my phone]. I felt a little horrified, but fortunately, that was soon over, and they sent me home with a temporary tooth (which had the texture of sandpaper—I spent the next two weeks cringing whenever I touched it), a tube of Fixodent (just in case the temporary fell off) and dried saliva and casting resin all over my lips. My mouth tasted like dental work. I don't know if that was the blood coming out of my gums or one of the many chemicals they used in my mouth, but it is a smell I remember well from my childhood—not that I would mind not remembering it. As if I didn't feel gross enough already, a bird pooped on my glove as I biked back to work!

Things only got worse as the Novocaine wore off. Oh, the pain! My root canal hadn't hurt a bit. I thought this wouldn't either, since the tooth was already dead. But my mangled mouth...my poor gums. They were swollen, bloody, and bruised. As the days passed, they began to turn grey. I remember reading on the itemized list of fees two separate instances for "infection control". Hypochondria set in. But fortunately infection didn't.

And that is really the climax of my story. I had one appointment to go, but that was basically more of the same, except less pain and drilling, and more artistry. They were very concerned with matching the color of my other teeth perfectly. They actually had me come in for a special visit just so their resident color guru could calculate my perfect shade. I found the process a little tedious, but I did learn something: Apparently, everyone's teeth have either a grey undertone or a yellow. Mine is grey.

So after two more visits and a little bit more adjusting (in spite of their best efforts, my gums receded under the temporary, so the new incisor had the long leggy look of a horse tooth. I kept having them shave a bit off the bottom. Even if that kept the new tooth from lining up perfectly with the one next to it, I felt like it overall gave my mouth a more balanced aspect.

I've been wearing this tooth for months now, and it hasn't fallen out, and fortunately it's much smoother than the temporary crown, and I'm pretty happy with the look.

Before

After

Savory Sweets Chocolatey Chunk Cookie

 

I grabbed this cookie at our newly opened Little Caesar's. Just as I've learned that Little Caesar's is not the paragon of pizza (ugh, the excessive tomato sauce on my leftovers was almost enough to make me cry), neither are their cookies the paragon of cookies. This cookie, which does not appear to be branded by Little Caesar's at all, but just something they sell on the side, was mostly a disappointment.

As soon as I opened it, it failed the Crumble Test in a spectacular way, spraying crumbs all over my desk.

My first bite was equally misadventurous—a crumb lodged in my throat, making for an uncomfortable minute or two.

Not to be daunted, I continued eating the cookie, washing down the errant crumb and learning that as you approach its center, the cookie becomes less prone to disintegration. I concluded that, while the texture is not one that I'll ever actively seek out, I've had worse.

The flavor was that of institutional mass-produced chocolate chip cookie. I imagine this coming out of an industrial-sized vat of bargain-priced refrigerated dough. It was good enough for its genre, just nothing to go down in the record books.

I paid $1.50 for this 85g cookie, setting it at a pretty average price of 1.76¢ per g.

The Bottom Line:

Taste:
Texture:
Price:

Little Dress Lost: A new kind of fashion goodbye

You might have noticed I tend to wear beloved pants into the ground, and you might have read the mournful eulogy to my favorite shirt, but even on the sad occasions when I have to let go of a worn-out item of apparel, at least I get to say goodbye. It's completely different – a veritable tragedy – when a well-liked garment just up and disappears.

Such is the case of my pink party dress.

Now, losing track of my possessions is not an unfamiliar experience to me; socks, umbrellas, and gloves disappear with astounding regularity, but they are pretty small. I have never before misplaced a whole dress! I also sell my way through a lot of clothes, frequently after only one wear, and I never miss them—but I don't have any recollection of selling this dress. And I'm pretty sure I never wanted to, because that dress was fantastic—after the first use, I might have put it away for a few months to give it time to "breathe" and bring the novelty factor back up, but I wasn't ready to give it up for good! 

I even found a
picture of it!

This dress was a keeper. I really loved it. It was hot pink and gradated and pleated and spectacular. In fact, I liked it so much that after the first time I wore it, I bought another dress in almost the same style in blue. I considered wearing it for New Year's until a more formal dress landed in my closet, and I only seriously started thinking it about it once spring rolled around.

After I traded out my winter wardrobe last spring, I got to wondering where it was. I hadn't noticed it when I was making the switch. I went through my hanging bag of off-season and rarely worn clothing, but came up empty-handed.

I began to wonder if I had abandoned it by accident. The last time I remember seeing it was the last time I wore it. That was at a wedding in Baltimore last summer. When the party was over, we stayed the night in a hotel room. I remember lots of things about that weekend vividly—the floral arrangement I took home, the chocolates I stashed everywhere, my boyfriend's state of intoxication, what I ate for breakfast the next day—but I don't remember what I did with the dress. The next day, we had the valets store our belongings in the car while we biked around the city—but I don't think I would have stuffed the dress in a suitcase to get wrinkled, and I don't remember hanging it in the car. It is quite possible that I hung it up in the room and never thought of it again.

After suddenly remembering the dress a good 9 months after its disappearance, I wrote this story to help deal with my grief...and forgot about it again. Until this week, when I ran across the unfinished draft.

I still miss that dress. As evidenced by my frequent forgetting about it, I could probably let it go. But it's the principle of the thing! Never before have I lost a dress! I'll keep looking for it. One day, we will be together again. Even if I have to pay more than 13 dollars for a replacement!

My Dream Phone

Since my phone disappeared into the shadowy depths of the Bali airport, I've been giving a lot of thought to phones. Specifically, what I want in one if I'm going to have to fork over the dollars to replace my old one. So far, none of the phones currently on the market are doing it for me. I've even considered harking back to a simpler era and purchasing a throwback...but I don't like any of them either. So, in the hopes that the Law of Attraction will work in my favor, here's what I'm looking for in a phone. Manufacturers, take note. I'm willing to pay good money (but not as good as you seem to think your new phones are worth these days) for a phone with the following attributes:

Pocket-sized. When I say pocket-sized, I mean girl pocket. Skinny jean pocket. Barely there pocket. None of those hand-dwarfing handsets that you're churning out these days. The phones that are being marketed as "mini" are still bigger than my last phone, which was too big. I am currently using an iPhone 3GS, and that's about as big as I ever want to go. If it's taller than 5 inches, it's off my radar for sure.

Foldable. As I recently proclaimed to a friend, I still believe flip phones were the pinnacle of invention. What modern phone comes with its own built-in protective case? None. But not only does a flippable phone protect the screen from damage (without having to bother with stupid and expensive plastic decals that get scratched and hideous after 2 days), but it also makes the phone fit in a smaller space! See above. Double win.

Customizable. One of the main reasons I can't go old-school on my phone is that I have grown dependent on downloadable apps. If I want to be able to do something on my phone, I like being able to grab an app and be done with it. Similarly, I want to be able to disable just about every feature at any time. There's nothing more frustrating than being stuck with a worthless feature because the manufacturer thinks they know your needs better than you do.

Reasonably fast. I have minimal use for 4G Internet, but I do expect sites to load quickly when I'm connected to wi-fi. If I start an app, I expect it it to be ready to go in 3 seconds or less. I think it is safe to sacrifice luxury features like high-def screens, dual cameras, huge amounts of internal storage, and augmented audio for this simple functionality boost. The only reason I mention this, which should go without saying, is that the iPhone 3G I was using before the HTC phone was soooooooo sloooooooooow I could never accomplish anything on it. I would have been better off without a smartphone at all.

Indefatigable. Yes, I used a big word. What I'm trying to say is, I want my phone to have the battery life phones had in the old times, when you could leave them off the charger for days and still be able to to use them. My last phone (an HTC One X, in case you were curious) died consistently after a single day, even when I didn't use it and turned off every background service I could find. That was unacceptable. The 3GS I'm currently using is delighting me by being able to hold a charge for three days. Hmm, a good size? A good battery life? Maybe I won't bother to look for a new phone at all... Except...

Compatible with my computer. My biggest gripe with iPhones is that they refuse to play nice with my Windows computer. I cannot access my pictures or music collection without having to go through iTunes, a very clunky intermediary. My Android phone gave me complete access to the internal storage with nothing more than a USB connection, but I still couldn't preview the pictures without transferring them. Surely there's a better way.

Montana Gold Bread Co. Peanut Butter Cookie

I picked this cookie up at a Farmers' Market in Richmond, VA.

I gave it points from the outset for aesthetics, because it looked delicious, and the extra-large cross hatching on its top surface was unique.

When I first unwrapped it, I caught a delicious whiff of peanut butter—no small consideration when you have a typically non-functioning nose as I do.

Once I bit into it, I concluded the flavor was a little sweeter than I like, but still good and peanut-buttery. Although a bit crumbly, this cookie still had an element of chewiness to give it appeal. However, it kept dropping crumbs on my lap as I was eating eat, so I'll have to downvote it for its textural failings.

At 1.30¢ per gram, it was a good price, and it's a genuine product of a small business.

The Bottom Line:

Taste:
Texture:
Price:

Better Packing

First, an announcement. I have finally finished blogging about my vacation to Indonesia, but if you haven't had enough of it yet, you can also view my complete photo album on Google+. Be sure to read the captions for valuable information! And if you're still hankering for some travel blog goodness, well, you're in luck, because I can't stop talking about travel!

I learned a lot about travel over my 3-week voyage (including: flying frequently in an airplane makes your ears start popping all the time, even after you've been home a week!), but the most important lessons were on traveling light. Here are some of them.

I deliberately packed a lot of clothes I had been planning on getting rid of anyway, so I could just throw/give them away by the end of the trip, to make more room for souvenirs. Consequently, what I had with me was a mishmash of clothes that didn't fit, didn't look presentable, or didn't match with anything. While it was nice to liberate myself of this burden at the end of the vacation, I don't know if it was worth feeling like a fashion reject for the entirety of the trip. If I were to do it again, I think I'd rather just pack fewer, more serviceable, articles at the outset, and keep them. Wearing the same outfit twice is a minor sin compared to wearing an outfit that makes you miserable.

The next time I vacation, I'm either bringing a small backpack OR an oversized purse, but not both. And I'm going to make sure the straps on the purse aren't so long next time.

Big-brimmed sun hats, despite their usefulness, are not worth the trouble it takes to pack around their bizarre shape. Heck, half the time, the wind is blowing them off your head anyway, so just do yourself a favor and leave them home. In the end, it's probably easier to just wear some extra sunscreen or carry an umbrella.

Platform wedges, though nice for that one day you decide to go out clubbing, are just about the most bulky and heavy shoe possible for packing, and completely not worth it if you're only going to wear them once. If you do feel the need to have dress shoes with you, just in case, at least choose the kind with a stiletto heel and a single sole, so they don't take up your entire baggage allowance.

I brought along a laptop computer as well as an iPad. The laptop was mainly because 1) I wanted to work on an InDesign project, which I proceeded to leave at home anyway and 2) I needed an SD card reader or USB interface in order to get the photos off my camera onto the Internet. Those 2 benefits were definitely not worth the 8 extra pounds of baggage. Next time, I'm going to admit that 1) the chances of me working on anything while on vacation are too slim to bother and 2) it's definitely worth the expense to get an iPad camera connection kit (especially if I can get my employer to pay for it). Problem solved in 1 oz or less.

I recently purchased a new camera, which I love for its easy access to manual controls and its powerful zoom lens. But, as I learned on this trip, I don't love how heavy it is. I frequently found myself leaving it behind when I went places just so I wouldn't have to deal with the weight. The lesson is, bring a smaller camera (or don't lose your phone). What you might sacrifice in picture quality, you'll make up for in actually having pictures.

The biggest packing revelation I had on my trip was, by far, related to toiletries.

My large bag full of toiletry products proved to be impractical. It was overly padded, it sported an unnecessary and space-hogging carry strap, and overall it was an awkward shape for packing. Next time I'm going with wide and flat so I can fit it in on top of all my other stuff, since the toiletries are usually the last things I pack when I'm leaving a place. Furthermore, the things it carried could have been heavily pared down (for example: pills in a compartmentalized box, or even little baggies, rather than oversized individual prescription bottles).

However, there was one product I brought that, I realized, could have replaced almost all of the other toiletries in the bag. And that product was baking soda. No, it's not even a traditional toiletry, but it's good for so many things!

• It makes a passable substitute for shampoo when washing your hair, and an equally passable powder to absorb grease in between showers.
• It can be used for brushing your teeth.
• It is excellent for relieving the swelling of insect stings, ingrown hairs, and zits.
• It can be used as a gargle when you feel a cold coming on.
• It makes a very effective laxative when you consume enough of it (I learned this once by accident).
• It is also an antacid.
• It can be used as an underarm deodorant. 

Baking soda does does the deodorant job better when mixed with coconut oil, which, incidentally, can be used to replace the following products:

• Hair conditioner
• Lotion
• Lip balm
• Soap

So there you have it: 11 of your travel hygiene needs solved by just two products! The only other things I kept in that bag were a few other medicines, sunblock, and bug repellent. Which reminds me: because of its odor-absorbing properties, you probably shouldn't store your baking soda in close proximity to your insect-repellent wristbands. I learned that the hard way.

Macaroni and cheese from Barrel

 
My boyfriend and I got dinner on Saturday at a new place (to us) called Barrel, because, we noted after a cursory examination of the menu, they had macaroni and cheese for me, and beer for him.

I'll get right to the point. The macaroni and cheese was divine. As soon as it arrived, it made a good impression, what with being served in its own cast-iron casserole dish and topped with breadcrumbs.

But it's the taste that really matters in a macaroni review, and that did not disappoint.

My first bite was a burst of flavor, gooey, cheesy, and with just the right amount of salt. This mac and cheese had a unique taste to it that I identified as horseradish. You would not think I would enjoy a horseradishy macaroni, but as a matter of fact, I did. I had to force myself to stop eating and save the other half for later, because I really wanted to gobble up the whole thing right then, stomach ache though it might cause.

If this macaroni and cheese had one fault (and really, I'm just grasping for anything here), it might be that the cheese sauce was kind of thin. But as it cooled, it congealed to a perfect texture that I really can't complain about.

I am not alone in my glowing assessment of this dish. Al, after trying one bite of mine, ordered a second dish just for himself.

In the end, I rate this macaroni and cheese as follows:
One happy noodle for the perfect taste
One happy noodle for the perfect presentation
One happy noodle for the unique horseradish kick
 

The Mood Noodle rating system is not based on a fixed scale, but is a much more subjective system based on what makes me happy and what makes me sad.
Any number of happy noodles and comparatively few sad noodles constitute a good rating.

Jun 17 - 21: Jogjakarta and Jakarta

Me being far from pleased at the airport.

We arrived in Jogjakarta late in the evening on the 17th.

What would have been an hour-long flight, if Al had remembered to actually complete the reservation — and no, I'm never letting that go — ended up being 2 flights with an hour layover. During said layover, I lost my phone, continuing the saga of misery that had begun the day before. But let's not talk about that! Let's talk about Jogja.

Jogjakarta (shortened to Jogja, and don't even get me started on whether it's actually supposed to be Yogyakarta or even Djogdjakarta, because there seemed to be no consensus on this matter at all) is Al's mother's home town. She owns a house there, which was (unsurprisingly considering my previous experiences with Indonesian domiciles) enormous, though very oddly laid out. The kitchen and laundry room were on the second floor. The back of the house consisted of one gigantic room that was two stories high. Al says the house was converted from a bread factory, so I wonder if that was some sort of store room. In any case, we did spend some time discussing how cool it would be to remodel the home and rent it out or something. I forgot to take a photo of it because, as previously mentioned, I'd mentally checked out a few days before.

That first evening, we went out to have our first meal of street food since arriving in Indonesia (everyone from Indonesia raves about how great street food is, in the same breath that they tell you not to eat it because it might make you sick). We took off our shoes, sat on straw mats on the sidewalk, and had our meals delivered to us. I had something new: gudeg (gudek?) which is made from the seeds of the jackfruit. It wasn't bad, but it was very powerful. It struck me as more of a condiment than an entree, something like a sweet version of olive tapenade. It did not make me sick.

After eating, Al and I walked around the streets for a few minutes, looking at the wares for sale, but everyone was packing up for the evening, and besides, we had planned to do all our shopping on our last day in Jogja.

But, before that could happen, we had to get through the first day, which was dedicated to tourism. First stop, the temple, Borobudur, which stands out in my mind as the place were I was obligated to pay 10 times as much for admission as Al and his cousin because I was not an Indonesian.

Unlike many of the other locations we'd visited on this trip, hardly any of the tourists were Caucasian (considering the preferential admission policies, I'm not surprised!), so I stood out conspicuously. Apparently, this temple is a big tourism spot for native Indonesians. They go there because it's awesome, being Indonesia's largest Hindu temple. But the real attraction is not this spectacular work of ancient engineering, but rather the white tourist, who everyone wants to pose for a picture with.

I'd been warned this would happen, and I hadn't been looking forward to it. I did not want to feel like some kind of sideshow freak. But when people actually did start asking for pictures with me, it wasn't nearly as bad as I'd imagined. In fact, for the first time in this long vacation, I actually felt appreciated, instead of just like a somewhat unwelcome stranger or a source of income.

Borobudur, once I escaped from the Papparazzi (I mean, locals).

After Borobudur, we were planning to go to the Prince's Palace (or something like that) but it was already closed when we got there. So instead, we got ice cream (avocado ice cream...yummy! Who'd have thought?) and then drove around basically running errands for Al's cousins and looking for ... an upholstery store? I don't know. One big disadvantage of being the only non-Indonesian-speaker traveling with a group of Indonesians is that you never really know what's going on.

The next day was the day we were supposed to go shopping. But we learned, when Al finally looked at the itinerary, that our flight out that day was not late in the evening as he'd thought, but rather at 3 in the afternoon, meaning we'd have to leave for the airport around noon (strike two on the flight planning, Al!). So our whole day of shopping was already hosed. We'd have to make a marathon run of it.

And we did our best, visiting a market and couple of shops and scoring some good deals on clothing (4 dollar dress, anyone?), but we didn't have time to get all of the souvenirs and gifts I'd been hoping for (sorry, family, the presents are going to be a little sparse).

Here's a picture of some shoes and clothes I bought, because, frankly, I'm out of good pictures.

And then it was on to Jakarta for the last leg of our journey. I'll keep this part short, because I already did Jakarta once. We basically just had one day anyway, which was spent visiting family: cousins' home previously visited to pick up our remaining belongs and a box of stuff to fly to the US with us, house of very rich aunt who may or may not have a strained relationship with Al's part of the family but it sure seemed like that from the awkward and somewhat silent lunch we had with her, and cousin in hospital (note to self and/or word to the wise: the next time you are dragged along to the hospital to visit someone you've never met, it is guaranteed to be uncomfortable. See if they'll let you wait outside and meet this person some other time under better circumstances.

And thus passed our last day in Indonesia. I wish I had more exciting photos to end this segment of my blog with a bang, but instead you will have to settle for this anticlimactic gradual trail-off...

Jun 16: Lombok

By the 16th, my blogging was so far behind, and my photo uploading even farther, that I didn't bother to write any more posts in advance. I also had a cold (which had been trying to get me, by way of Al, ever since our first day in Darwin, and finally caught up with me completely our last night on the boat). I also was nearing the end of my trip. I had never been completely on board with a 3-week vacation, and my capacity for a positive attitude had pretty much reached rock bottom, so I was basically just riding out the days until I could go home.

So the 16th did not provide me with much to be happy about. After leaving the boat, all 7 of us crammed into a single van and proceeded to drive (endlessly—it was Indonesia after) to Mataram in Lombok.

Here's us and our crew. Our last happy moment before everything turned ugly.

There Al and I were dropped off and asked to wait until another vehicle could arrive to take us to our hotel. We waited. I had to go pee, but I didn't want to pay to use the toilet (I couldn't even read the sign!) so I waited in discomfort. While waiting, Al bought some food, and then he bought some more food (Al's chief occupation in Indonesia seemed to be eating as much as was humanly possible). The second purchase turned out to be something I actually liked—a fruit-filled green cake which was dense and delicious. Al liked it too—so much that he spent the rest of the vacation obsessing about getting some more. For future reference, Brownies Martabak was the name of the vendor.

Finally we were driven to our hotel in Kuta (town on the Island of Lombok), which, although it impressed me initially with its cute towels folded to look like swans, lacked basic amenities like a garbage can in the bathroom (what did they expect us to do with the toilet paper that the sign on the door clearly stated should not be flushed?), free shampoo, or even a shelf in the shower to put our own shampoo, a pool that was not overgrown with algae, or a way to keep the mosquitos from entering our room from cracks above and below the poorly hung door.

At least there was one nice thing about Kuta.

I was grumpy and sick and wanted nothing more than to check my email and upload some photos and post another blog entry, but the wi-fi didn't work. We went to get lunch at the restaurant across the street, and of course there was nothing on the menu that I wanted to eat, but I was too pessimistic to imagine there was anything better at any other restaurant, so we ate there, while flies buzzed incessantly all over us and the wind blew a menu into my water bottle, spilling it all over the table and partly over me.

A walk on the beach did the exact opposite of cheer me up. The sand was made up of such large grains that when you walked in it, you sank in up to your ankles. I had not put on my sunblock before we went out, so I couldn't stop worrying about getting cancer, a sunburn, or worse, a tan, and my sun hat was continually getting blown off my head by the wind.

To top things all off, a pair of local children approached us as we walked, trying to sell us some ugly bracelets (I being the only white person on the entire beach made us prime targets for those seeking the bottomless pockets of a Caucasian tourist). I didn't want the bracelets, and I didn't want to throw away my hard-earned money on something so ugly, and the girl kept saying, "You buy only one, then I'll leave you alone," and I was offended that I should have to, essentially, pay her off to stop pestering me (also was worried that children would descend on me like flies if I so much as flashed my wallet), so I let her follow me the the entire way up the quicksand beach, lowering her prices the entire way, until finally she broke off and muttered what I am pretty sure was "Very stingy!" in an affronted tone.

The far end of the beach did have some monkeys and dogs and some mangroves, which would have probably delighted me if I had not been in such a bad mood. But alas, I was.

To top things all off, when we finally got back to our hotel, we discovered two things:

1) The delicious Brownie Martabak that I had been planning to eat for dessert, and which had seriously been my only motivation for slogging on with my day, was crawling with ants!

2) Al had not actually paid for our flight to Jogja, which was supposed to be at 6:00 the next morning. It was too late to secure that flight now, so we had to trudge out again to find a travel agent to get us another flight. Sadly, it was too late even for a travel agent to help us, and we were told to book online. I knew, just knew, that I was going to be stuck in this godforsaken town another night.

Finally, we stopped in a vegetarian cafe (which did make me about as happy as I can get when I am miserable), where we had dinner, and Al got his mother to book us a flight while I sulked.

I also made the acquaintance of one of the many local stray(?) dogs, which made for a slight moment of happiness in an otherwise terrible day.

When we returned to the room, I shook all the ants off the cake and ate it anyway, and then settled in for a long and boring night and day. Our flight was rescheduled for 5 the next evening, which meant, to look on the marginally, dimly, feebly bright side, that I would no longer have to get up at 3 in the morning. However, I was not interested in occupying that extra time walking out among the sharks street vendors, getting buried in quicksand beaches, or getting any more sun. We planned to hang out at the hotel until checkout time at noon, then hang out in the airport for the rest of the day.