Ramona, Betsy, Anne (and Mac and me)

Ramona, post-bath, hair in a towel, playing on the machine I love to an embarrassing degree (and now you know the answer to the question, To PC or to Mac? We are living happily ever after.)

*****

Betsy (aka, Patience of a Saint)  after allowing Ramona to style her hair:

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Anne-with-an-e, yesterday morning, when prodded to move faster: "I'm moving as fast as my pre-10:00 haze will allow."

I'm afraid I don't have a picture of Anne in her haze, but since cats exist in a haze most of the time, I'll include Mr. Putter here, chin lazily perched on an aptly named coloring book:

To PC or to Mac ... That is the Question

Our current computer is dying a slow, ugly death.

We're researching.
We're talking.
We're looking at the budget.


I am trying to decide if my crush on Mac is justified or not. I just love Apple commercials. Love them. And their choice of music? Sends me into some sort of otherworldly, hypnotic state that reduces me to muttering, "Want ... one ...."

I've been known to simply stop what I'm doing during an iPhone commerical, just to stare dreamily at the TV and envision an iPhone and me running through a spring meadow together. That music leaves me brainwashed into thinking that the universe will melt away and leave me alone in perfect happiness, if only I marry dish out a lot of money for an iPhone ....

Am I just a hapless victim of clever manipulation? (That's exactly why I hate advertising, of course -- I admire the talent behind a really well-done commercial, but I abhor it for knowing how to get to me.)

Or are my friends (and you know who you are ... you've already told me, "Get the Mac!") right?

If you have an opinion, I'd love to hear it.

(And, uh, Jerry Seinfeld and Bill Gates? You might need to have those Apple guys be your Cyrano de Bergerac ... that's all I'm gonna say.)