So I set my iPhone to sync contacts and it asks me "Do you want to sync your gmail contacts list?". So I say "awesome YE-ES!" and away it goes.
The next time I need to ring someone I open up the contacts list and HOLY BAT..er...POO BATMAN!(tm) there are 600+ contacts in my list. What the hell?!
Turns out it creates a new contact for every email address found in the gMail contacts list. And since every email address you ever send to or receive from is entered into your contacts list in gMail this is a phenomenally bad idea. This was The Little Fail.
So I lived with it for a few weeks and then a couple days ago finally put in the time (45mins!) to delete all the crap. And then just now I went to email someone in gMail and typed in the first few letters of their address and waited for the auto-completion to do it's thing. And then I waited some more. And some more. And then I started to panic. And then I absolutely flipped out!
When I sync'd my iphone this morning it went back to gmail and removed all the stuff I removed from the phone!!!! Now I know, I know; that's what "sync" means stoopid. Yes, yes it does. However in my defense usually when an ipod talks about sync it is talking about between itself and iTunes. I had assumed (I know, again; ass...me...yeah) it would download th econtacts from gmail and store them in iTunes and then sync between the iphone and iTunes!
This sux. *8'(
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Disaster Averted: iPod Nearly Lost At Sea!
So most of the time I walk around the house with my iPhone headphones snaking from the iPod in my back pocket up my back under my shirt, out the back of my collar and into one ear.
Well earlier today I went to the loo to perform some 'routine maintenance' and I walk in, turn around... do a little dance, make a little love, get down tonight... sorry where was I? Oh right, so I turn around and drop trow and my spider-sense kicks in suddenly; something doesn't feel right. A horrifying thought occurs to me and I turn around very carefully and my worst fears (of the moment at least) are confirmed as I behold the dry-mouth inducing sight of my 'pod dangling precariously from it's earphone cable over the bowl!
As the opening scenes of Cliffhanger race through my mind, I VERY carefully reach forth, and with the concentration of a neurosurgeon, enclose it once more in the safety of it's masters hand.
After reeling it in I was so shaken I had to sit down for a moment, which I was going to do for longer in the first place so that part worked out well.
Be careful people. Do YOU know where your iPod is right now?
Well earlier today I went to the loo to perform some 'routine maintenance' and I walk in, turn around... do a little dance, make a little love, get down tonight... sorry where was I? Oh right, so I turn around and drop trow and my spider-sense kicks in suddenly; something doesn't feel right. A horrifying thought occurs to me and I turn around very carefully and my worst fears (of the moment at least) are confirmed as I behold the dry-mouth inducing sight of my 'pod dangling precariously from it's earphone cable over the bowl!
As the opening scenes of Cliffhanger race through my mind, I VERY carefully reach forth, and with the concentration of a neurosurgeon, enclose it once more in the safety of it's masters hand.
After reeling it in I was so shaken I had to sit down for a moment, which I was going to do for longer in the first place so that part worked out well.
Be careful people. Do YOU know where your iPod is right now?
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Mr Mom
Mari had a seminar in the city yesterday and today she is sick.
So I've been in charge of the child from first thing in the morning for two days.
And for the second day in a row we (the child and I) were late for school.
Tony: C'mon sweetie out of the car quick we're running late!
Josie: We have to get a late note.
Tony: Did your teacher tell you yesterday?
Josie: Yeah. I didn't know where to get it then but I know now. You have to go to the office. And I want YOU to come with me!
Tony: *Sheepish* yes dear.
I've never actually seen Mari hand the jar she keeps my testicles in to Josie as they tag out in the morning but it must happen.
Incidentally at 6 years of age children do not see the late note process as a negative, deterrent-type experience. Josie is so excited to go to the office to get her late note I fear we may need to go to the office via the toilets before she pees her pants. And once acquired holds it clutched, triumphantly in her little fist and waves it about like a trophy.
Josie: IIII have a late noooote! Yeeeesssss! *in her best Bea Arthur voice*
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
So we go to the office and I tell the nice lady that we need a late note.
She stops smiling. Obviously I've committed a terrible crime against humanity.
She regains her composure, looks at her watch and seems to need to revise reality so that this crime has, in fact, not been perpetrated on her watch.
Lady: They usually give you a couple of minutes.... but if they've read the roll already... you better get one.
She seems defeated by the facts and unable to complete her attempt to alter reality so that we are not, in fact, 5 minutes late for class. She then proceeds to point out all the places on the small form where not only is it clear that I have to fill something in but it is labeled clearly with what I have to fill that particular space with.
Lady: Put her name here. *in the underlined space with "NAME" under it.
Lady: Date here. *in the space with the unmistakable date-separator slashes*
etc etc etc
Lady: You can put a reason for being late here if you want, it's not mandatory.
So I begin filling in the form and two fields in, and in the midst of an internal monologue mocking the lady for pointing out all the obvious fields, I am stumped for the date. So I ask the child (as you do when your most constant companion is a little person who seems more like an 80year old curmudgeon - like George Burns basically - than a 6 year old girl). Who, of course, has no idea. Another nice lady in the office looks at me like I'm a mental defective.
Lady #2: What did you need to know? *she didn't hear the question, but she knows by the familiar pattern of sound that one of the idiot parents has asked their child for some actual information that needs to approach correct, and that the child has answered in the inevitable and distinctive sound pattern identifiable from 100 yards as "Idontknow?!"*
And then proceeds to give me yesterdays date, which I don't discover until I get to work 30mins later. So I continue filling out the form.
Name: Josephine Hill
Date: 10/2/2009
Class: *classified*
Reason my son/daughter is late: Mummy is sick and Daddy is hopeless.
So I've been in charge of the child from first thing in the morning for two days.
And for the second day in a row we (the child and I) were late for school.
Tony: C'mon sweetie out of the car quick we're running late!
Josie: We have to get a late note.
Tony: Did your teacher tell you yesterday?
Josie: Yeah. I didn't know where to get it then but I know now. You have to go to the office. And I want YOU to come with me!
Tony: *Sheepish* yes dear.
I've never actually seen Mari hand the jar she keeps my testicles in to Josie as they tag out in the morning but it must happen.
Incidentally at 6 years of age children do not see the late note process as a negative, deterrent-type experience. Josie is so excited to go to the office to get her late note I fear we may need to go to the office via the toilets before she pees her pants. And once acquired holds it clutched, triumphantly in her little fist and waves it about like a trophy.
Josie: IIII have a late noooote! Yeeeesssss! *in her best Bea Arthur voice*
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
So we go to the office and I tell the nice lady that we need a late note.
She stops smiling. Obviously I've committed a terrible crime against humanity.
She regains her composure, looks at her watch and seems to need to revise reality so that this crime has, in fact, not been perpetrated on her watch.
Lady: They usually give you a couple of minutes.... but if they've read the roll already... you better get one.
She seems defeated by the facts and unable to complete her attempt to alter reality so that we are not, in fact, 5 minutes late for class. She then proceeds to point out all the places on the small form where not only is it clear that I have to fill something in but it is labeled clearly with what I have to fill that particular space with.
Lady: Put her name here. *in the underlined space with "NAME" under it.
Lady: Date here. *in the space with the unmistakable date-separator slashes*
etc etc etc
Lady: You can put a reason for being late here if you want, it's not mandatory.
So I begin filling in the form and two fields in, and in the midst of an internal monologue mocking the lady for pointing out all the obvious fields, I am stumped for the date. So I ask the child (as you do when your most constant companion is a little person who seems more like an 80year old curmudgeon - like George Burns basically - than a 6 year old girl). Who, of course, has no idea. Another nice lady in the office looks at me like I'm a mental defective.
Lady #2: What did you need to know? *she didn't hear the question, but she knows by the familiar pattern of sound that one of the idiot parents has asked their child for some actual information that needs to approach correct, and that the child has answered in the inevitable and distinctive sound pattern identifiable from 100 yards as "Idontknow?!"*
And then proceeds to give me yesterdays date, which I don't discover until I get to work 30mins later. So I continue filling out the form.
Name: Josephine Hill
Date: 10/2/2009
Class: *classified*
Reason my son/daughter is late: Mummy is sick and Daddy is hopeless.
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