Yesterday, I drove from Los Angeles to San Jose where I'll spend Thanksgiving with my family. My only companions were Siri and a lot of caffeine. My new phone arrived a few days ago and Siri and I spent the long drive getting to know each other. Basically, "getting to know each other" equals me pressing her little button and telling her to do things and her sitting there and taking it. I wouldn't blame Siri if she felt a little used.
Siri is good at playing music and a champ at finding the nearest Starbucks. She likes it when you speak clearly to her and only occasionally willfully misinterprets your request. She also sends texts, which is a life saver if you're by yourself in a car for six hours and don't mind sounding like English is your second language.
When I was texting with Sexy Jesus, instead of telling him "Lots of cows. No beer." Siri said "In Calais. No fear."
Siri thinks my life is a lot more interesting than it really is.
In a creepy are-we-about-to-find-ourselves-in-a-Battlestar-Galactica-situation kind of way, getting to know Siri is like getting to know a person. You have to figure out how to talk to her. You have to learn how to interpret what she says. Sometimes she gets your point right away, sometimes she never does. Sometimes she understands your request, but can't do what you want her to.
Three hours into my trip I realized that I'm having a weird little relationship with my iPhone. So I tossed her onto the seat and turned on David Sedaris instead.
30 Days of Magic update:
Autumn colors. Siri. Allowing emotions to just be what they are. Learning, slowly, to choose what to focus on. Knowing that I can decide where I put my attention and where I spend my time - and those are the things that will flourish. Feeling my perspective shift as soon as I remember that I have to find at least one #magicmarker for the day.
Petting an enormous dog with a gentle face and hopeful eyes as he sat in a chair like a human while his people got coffee in Buttonwillow. Deciding to move to Buttonwillow and buy a house there just so I can write the word Buttonwillow every time someone asks me for my address. Meeting the dog's owners in the caffeine line. They were so happy that I stopped to pet him because, despite his sweet face and argyle sweater, he's still a giant pitbull and sometimes people find him intimidating.
Dessert masquerading as coffee in those red cups. The Thanksgiving poem I wrote in 2006 about a turkey escapee named Fred. Thanksgiving with my family. Going to a whiskey-swilling, boot stomping, bluegrass-listenin' Turkey Trot with friends.
If you have any #magicmarkers, I'd love to hear about them in the comments or on the Twitters. It's a nice way to procrastinate for a few minutes. As a champion procrastinator (I mean, not to brag), I highly recommend it.