The secret life of geeks : Happiness is....

A pre-order HTC flyer tablet based on the latest Android Honeycomb OS and as importantly, the fabulous white case it comes in
I got my Flyer about 10 days ago, what a boost to the ego it was to receive it before the plebs got their hands on this piece of kit. The un-boxing experience had a sense of déjà vue since it wasn’t that different from the ipod classic. White minimalism, product image gets center stage on the lid, no reams of paper aka the user guide, but instead, the standard guarantee and quick start guide, power jack and headphones. Finally the piece de resistance, the Flyer White and pristine sans screen protector but with a brushed aluminum digital stylus! We like that!
Inserting the sim card was a bit of a struggle since the back flap isn’t super easy for people with bitten nails to access. No Micro-SD card included. Black mark for HTC there since including a memory card wouldn’t have dented the 500 plus GBP price tag.
On switching the device on you’re met with the usual HTC splash screen. Swipe the ring to unlock the screen, input your Google credentials and you’re ready to go. Unless you have a yahoo mail account then it gets a bit complicated to say the least. A Google search (surprise, surprise) unveils the manual credentials to install your yahoo account. Not too much of a stretch when you’re a geek, but God help the nulls. Next comes the all important transfer bit, you’d imagine in this day and age, devices would be able to talk to each other…Oh no. We’re a bit choosy about the company we keep in this house hold, the Flyer doesn’t talk to his poor cousin the HTC Windows phone which doesn’t really see eye to eye with el Mac who is in a constant sulk with Symbian…Sigh! And I thought I was out of college. Oh well, someday we’ll all kiss and make up, but until that happens, it’s each for itself.
Luckily on the software side, everything’s hunky dory, Facebook is totally ok with sharing all your contacts and every other piece of your life ,whether you like it or not. The result, Google is able to sync everything to well, Gmail. Glad someone’s getting along. Having said that, I was pleasantly surprised to see a pre-loaded bookmark to the Amzon music store in HTC’s music player. Wonder how long its going to be before they get their knuckles rapped by the friendly Android down the street. With 150k plus apps in it’s market place, Android is a pretty reliable first port of call for all your app fantasies. I’m at about 30 as we speak.
I’m still not a 100% convinced as to why I abought a tablet sure I’ll figure it out some day, but until then here’s to the flyer, full marks…so far.

The LBS (little black stiletto)

While I have every respect for the cult of Choo, the church of Blahnik and Louboutinism. I’ve never been one to go weak kneed at the sight of a tall, dark, spikey stiletto, I must admit the cracks beneath my practical exterior are beginning to show when I dedicate an hour to writing this blog. I guess denial is sustainable for only this long, one needs to come out of the (shoe) closet at some point.
Just as Coco Chanel revolutionized the world with the LBD, the LBS too has its place in history. I’m not going to wax eloquent about how and why because its still early days for me. What I am going to say is that just like a perfectly fitted suit, a perfectly shaped stiletto can make a women feel like a million dollars. Those extra inches make such a difference for those of us who don’t have legs up to our armpits. Though woe betide you if your day involves walking through cobbled streets and other such urban obstacle courses.
But all is forgiven when you see you’re brilliantly enhanced calf muscles, book-balancing posture and last but not least, the stylized walk which can do wonders for the collective confidence of the Amazon and the vertically challenged alike.
Of course nothing perfect comes cheap but unlike those must have ‘timeless classics’ that grace every sensible women's closet, a good pair of stilettos are an investment for life. No matter how many dress sizes your body decides to rise or fall, your feet remain constant.
The stiletto has been elevated to a universal symbol of sexuality. Imagine Cinderella, when she finally made it to the ball, parading around in trainers, I doubt the evening would have been such a roaring success. It was the glass slipper that done it!
So with that said, I’m off to get my own ‘glass slippers’ a fab pair of Louboutins. Selfridge’s here I come!

A french fairytale

My love affair with the most romantic city in the world began back in 1998 after watching a movie called ‘French kiss’ starring Meg Ryan

I watched wide-eyed while she fell in love with Kevin Klyne, totally stereo typed as a typical Gallic stallion sexy accent and all …that kinda explains it I think.

Then came my first brush with the real Paris, through the eyes of Adam Gopnik and Sarah Turnbull. Both ex-pat writers living in Paris, one American and the other Aussie. ‘From Paris to the moon’ and ‘Almost French’ became my survival hand book for the year I lived there. They came to stand for two extremely educational views on this beautiful city and its supremely elegant dwellers.

Even though it was a long time ago, there are some sights, smells and sounds that will be etched in my memory forever. For all you francophile’s out there, here’s a little taste of ‘my’ Paris

In a city where form determines function, imbibing the art of French ‘savoir fare’ took some getting used to. I mean where else will you get a manual in the box when you buy a scarf?

There’s a richness to the French way of doing things. Picnics on the banks on the Siene watching the sun set over the Notre Dame cathedral are complemented with a wonderfully frivolous beaujeaulous noveau, a rarity in this side of the world,

Fabulously simple meals enjoyed in neighborhood bistros take on a new meaning. While on the other hand Michelin starred chef's make combining tastes an art form.

Smelling mouldy sock odours becomes quite a pleasure when it takes the form of French cheeses.

Then there's the Jardin Luxemborg, with the famous carousel immortalized in Gopnik's book which kids would ride while trying to spear a ring. Remember Henri Cartier Bresson and his lovers kissing outside the Bon Marche? Place de la concorde in its ornamental beauty hides its gruesome history.

My gasp of astonishment seeing Paris spread out before me as if illuminated by candle light when the lift doors opened to reveal fairyland on the top floor of the Montparnasse will forever remain in my mind's eye.

Art deco light fixtures, rude waiters and fluffy omelets compete for my attention while I sip a Kir Royale on one of Paris's many bistro terraces...heaven!

I remember hours spent on the Champs-Élysées, the mecca of people watching . The Arc de Triumph lit up at night, pays tribute to all the men and women who gave their lives in the name of Liberté, égalité, fraternité, and while negotiating its eight tributaries...viva Gallic driving!

The list is endless, but let me end with my piece de resistance , the Tour Eiffel at night sparkling with a million fire flies…every 30 minutes.
I guess it suffices to say that this is the stuff that dreams are made of...welcome to Paris my friends. Enjoy the ride!

Glass houses

I’m probably shooting myself in the foot by writing this on the even of Ben Laden’s death, especially with all this sentiment floating around the net including a really good fake quote about the barbarism of celebrating someone’s death. Which I shall add here for posterity sake ‎"I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that." --Martin Luther King, Jr’’ I feel that I need to say this if I’m being true to myself and to this man hurtling to his death. This picture was the one image that brought tears to my eyes all those years ago. And for those of you who remember there were many such heart breaking images all over the media. Why does this image strike such a powerful cord? Well, its because I was imagining the desperation and the feeling of absolute helplessness that he must have felt before he took that final jump knowing there was nowhere to go but to his death. Maybe he was able to say his goodbyes, maybe he didn’t who knows. Then I think about his mum, his sister, his wife, his daughter …And all the other people in his life that loved him having to seen this image and knowing there was absolutely nothing they could do to help him, to break his fall, to come to his aid. Can you even begin to imagine what that must have felt like? I'm sure the people who’ve lost a loved one to a violent death, which they had no way of stopping, probably know the feeling. Would you fault them for celebrating the death of the perpetrator of their sorrow?I believe I am in a position to know what losing a loved one to a violent death feels like. Back in those days I know I would have celebrated if that murderer met his death. But today I’m pretty numb to everything, not because I harbor any humanitarian sentiment towards this animal but because of the futility of remaining angry. Neither celebration nor anger is going to erase 21 years of loss.I mirror these sentiments with regard to Bin Laden’s death. I don’t really care whether people celebrate or mourn the barbarism of this world we live in, the deaths that have led to this etc etc because its not going to wipe away the loss all those families felt. Nor does it do anything to diminish the horror all those victims, burning, jumping, asphyxiating to death, must have felt. What makes it doubly tragic, at least in my eyes, is that were being martyred for a political ideology they may or may not have subscribed to. They had no choice....Anyways, I’m going to stop my rant now with just one message and that's this... we live in glass houses, lets think twice before we start throwing stones. Thank you