Paid apps I love

Hipstamatic is not free but fun if you like photo apps. I think I like collecting the extension packs more than anything. It turns your digital phone into an analog vintage camera without the wait time for development. Thanks to San Diego who bought it for me for my birthday. :)

Viaden Yoga App saves me hundreds of dollars in yoga classes every month. Calendar, pre-created sessions, DIY sessions, pose base, videos. Swoon. Videos.

2.do helps keep my head on straight. Really, really straight.

Skeeball game. The only dates I can stand are my Starbucks and Skeeball dates that I take myself on from time to time.

Free apps I love

Scoutmob. A social buying app/website like Groupon and Livingsocial but not available in all areas yet. However, you can still use their awesome augmented reality mustachio photo tool even if they don’t serve your local. It’s mustachio and awesome.

Stanza is a free ebook reader, plus it gives you access to libraries like Gutenberg and Books from Munseys. It’s fun to go book shopping for classics at 2am instead of sleeping not to mention that vintage business books are always a win. I’m reading PT Barnum’s guide to economics now.




Foodspotting. Food pr0n. ’nuff said.

A friend just turned me on to Project Noah if you like gardening/outdoors…you’ll have to read up on this one. I haven’t played with it enough to give you a run down but it is worth looking into, TRUST ME.




Bluelight if you walk places in the city by yourself a lot. It will automatically send a text with your last GPS coordinates to an emergency contact once you set it if you don’t check in by the time you get where you are going.

Honorable mentions

Apps I use often and worth a head nod: Maps (i’m always using GPS and getting lost), Facebook, Twitter, email and calendar, dictionary.com, NPR news, FeedlerRSS. Apps I use to use but not so much anymore:

Mint is a good financial app, but has started getting too “let’s sell you a credit card” for my liking, so I am starting to look elsewhere.

Grocery IQ for shopping lists. You can take photos of barcodes and they get added automatically…HOW COOL IS THAT?

I’m a member of zipcar, their app is awesome b/c it let’s you unlock your car and honk the horn. I think car manufacturers are making similar apps for their cars now too, you can try looking for yours if you have one.

Kindle app. It’s only on my list due to the fact I have to test files I make with DRM (<-lame) at times.

Apps on my list to try

Tea App I haven’t tried yet but am pondering if I should. I’m more of the OCD kind of tea drinker, if I try something new and like it, I will remember it because I’ll drink it for the next year until I get sick of it…

Got a good one I should try? Let me know via email or twitter.

Panama City IM’d me today. Poor, poor Panama. Our relationship was probably doomed from the beginning, we were both going through “new” in life, adapting to change. Neither of us probably needed a relationship at that exact moment. We both were tipping the Myers-Briggs scale when it came to stress. Ultimately things broke apart, we turned on each other when we should have been supporting each other, we couldn’t get into the groove of sustainable. It wasn’t healthy and, short lived, it wasn’t meant to be.

Immediately after the fact I felt like the hurricane that hit this peaceful island, embarrassed and ashamed of being the unstable element that brought us to our knees, but in retrospect I realize we both played out roles.

It was great catching up, though. Life is going great for him but he seems stressed by the pressure of his grandparents to “just get a girlfriend.” I, being super micro-manager gave him the same run down I give all my guy friends when it comes to problems talking to chicks: “just start with ‘hello’”. I didn’t think “compliment their nails” would work for him though. I don’t know if he actually wanted my opinion, lol, probably not as much as I gave him.

Flipping through my photos from long ago I realized how great of a person he is and ultimately wish him one thing: that he figures out what will make him happy in life and has the strength to pursue it. I think that will take him far.

The strip mall was ancient, across from Space Center Houston. Probably built in the hay-days of NASA and the space program, much like the rest of the surrounding area, now worn down from the years and Ike. Still, it wasn’t old enough to warrant the temple-esque entrance to the yoga institute, complete with red doors and ornate brass handles. I stepped inside and was greeted by the ambiance of Nag Champa incense and serenity.

I filled out some paperwork, kicked off my shoes and made my way across the grey Berber carpet of the studio. I unrolled my mat next to an older gentleman who directed me towards the blankets, foam blocks and meditation pillows near the wall. People filed in, the floor filled up, we shifted, more people came in and soon the class contained $500 worth of people. Not a bad take for 2 hours on a Saturday. I was clearly in the wrong field.

The yoga guru, a middle aged woman with gorgeous curly brown hair that fell to her shoulders made her way up to the platform at the front of the room. She introduced herself, introduced the studio, introduced yoga and then introduced our first position: the cross-legged-geek-killer. “Sit up straight, align your chakras, cross your legs like this and enjoy the sensation of being. Focus on your breathing.”

My body screamed at me. My back thought I had lost my mind, “what is this ‘straight’ you speak of?” My thighs burnt and my feet fell asleep. I didn’t mind, I was counting my breathing, focusing on the sound of it and observing my “being”. Being, however, quickly caught up with me as the burn intensified and I thought my shoulder muscles would call it quits and abandon me. This is what I get from hunching over the computer all day. Finally it was over. Being is pleasurable, but I think I will leave it alone for now. “1 pose down, 11 more to go,” I thought. I realized how terrible the thought was immediately after it crossed my mind and hoped I would survive whatever this was I had gotten myself into.

Eventually I lost feeling of my body, not in a bad “my body is being consumed by lactic acid, get me a gun” way but in a way that said “you’re 28 going on 18″ which is the first I felt that way in a long time. Usually it’s 28 going on 58. This was good. I was rocking this. My muscles shook but they didn’t ache. I gained confidence and began throwing my leg into lunges other people didn’t quiet master yet. I grinned.

“Push your torso up with your arms” the guru said, I did it without hesitation. “Stretch this way.” Check. The lady next to me toppled to the floor. “Twist that way.” Check. “Straighten your legs, flat back, touch the floor with your finger tips.” Ouch.

My hamstrings laughed. They didn’t protest, didn’t argue…they just laughed. “You think your getting those fingers where without bending your knees? Aren’t you cute?” I didn’t think it was going to happen. My hamstrings are ornery. I remember trying out for cheer leading in second grade and those damn things refused to let me touch my toes then let alone to get down into a split. If I couldn’t do it at 8, I sure as hell wasn’t going to do it now at 28.

Long story short, I survived. I even liked it. Scratch that, I loved it. After each pose was over, I wanted to go back and do it again. It felt good. It made me focus on my body, which is something I never really enjoy doing (ask anyone who has tried to teach me dance in the past). It made me crawl out of my head and move beyond. Day 2 was a very successful introduction to yoga. I will be doing it more in the future.

My mom is in the Carnegie Photo Contest, please go vote for her!

Somehow in my delirium I was negotiating with myself over guacamole: “WAKE UP! If you lay in that position the guacamole will NEVER come. Dear god, MOVE! MOVE!” and so I would wake up in sweat drenched fear and drag myself to the other corner of the full size bed (read: 5 inches) and collapse again, hands clenched in yearning for my dear guacamole. Guacamole danced in front of my eyes. I’d roll over, grab my guacamole-gator-aid and become dismayed when it tasted like blue.

At one point I got a banana. It was not guacamole, but since it came self contained, I could spend two hours preparing myself to leave the bed and venture to the kitchen, grab the banana-y goodness and then return victoriously to my bed toting my treasure. I’d collapse in weakness from the journey and wake up a few hours later to eat said banana. Bananas, contrary to popular belief (read: shell’s fevered mind), are not made of guacamole. Dismay.

7 days.

Today I got better.

Just like that. Poof. Better.

So I padded up to the grocery store looking like a drowned rat: 15 pounds lighter and wet from the shower. Blue veined, grey skin taunt over skeletal hands and I bought tomatoes. I came home and made guacamole. I lie, the angels made guacamole through my hands. Mortals are not able to make things this good. It was miraculous. I ate my damn guacamole and it tasted like baby kisses and sunshine on a cloud of magical unicorn down.

Science labs freak me out. I’m sitting in one now watching my sister and her friends hunched over binders and iPods giggling as I pour over the news of the Japanese earthquakes and impending Tsunamis on the west coast. It was “bring your awesome sister to school day.” it was hazing day for parents.

When I survive, I will get a sticker.

I totally hate meat.