Ooooh, ahhhh, pretty

I got a new cell phone. The old one was cute but too small and the sound quality was only fair. I needed an upgrade and I got one and it is sexy. It's cool. It does fabulous tricks. I keep taking it out just to hold it and run my fingers over it and look at the crystal clear, sharp screen. The case is brushed stinless steel. I guess that means it matches my refrigerator. And dishwasher. Have I become predictable?

I love technology. I love iPods and XM satellite radio and digital cameras and pedometers and bicycle computers and laptops and cool software and cordless phones and Bosch dishwashers and amazing cell phones and my SAD light and in-car navigation systems and DVD players.

I went to the Verizon store twice in one week and managed to spend about two hours there the first time. I left 15 messages on my home voice mail so I could test the quality of every phone I liked, even the ones I couldn't afford. You can make test calls on any phone in the store. It's wonderful fun! Unfortunately, my husband, arriving home and not realizing why I was leaving weird messagges, deleted them all before I could hear them for myself. I believe his only comment was, "The messages sounded good, honey."

Later: The saga of the installation of the interior doors. Help me.