No, not really Q.  Nor ‘Q’ as in ‘Q’ueer, either.  Yet.

I seem to be a cellphone whore.  About two months after changing from my RAZR V3C to a Samsung A900, I’m back in Motorola’s camp with the Q.  Windows Mobile 5, CDMA of course, and… shiny.  Only slightly more than I paid for my RAZR over a year ago.  Ah, technology…

I’m a massive geek over such things anyway.  I’ve been playing with it off and on since getting home.  Picked it up around 3PM, activated at work before I left, and it’s been love ever since.

Oh, I’m fickle.  I know I am – it’ll be roses and prettiness for the next few weeks, before I’ll never use it for anything other than the cellphone function anyway.  Then I’ll be sitting in a puddle of my own urine in a corner of the bathroom, sobbing over our broken friendship.  “I tried to change for you!” I’ll sob, dripping listlessly into the bathroom the congealed mess of my tears and mucous.  “But I couldn’t!  Not for you, or anyone… please don’t ask.”  The bathwater staining red as I crawl in with my severed veins bubbling forth life’s liquid effervescence.

What I really mean is that it’s already forced me to install Outlook (2003, the latest copy I had) in order to use Active Sync for anything more than minor transfers.  There has to be a better way of getting contacts over… yet my technological prowess will admit no defeat, even when it steadfastly refuses to recognize or copy over the *one* thing I’m attempting.  I could enter all of my paltry 50+ contacts by hand in the few hours I’ve been listlessly slaving over this, but I shall never admit that it’ll break me.

Next week: Ruination!