That's right, bitches, I am blogging from a café.

Now I just need skinny jeans and a fixie and chunky-framed glasses and to hang my keys from a belt loop on a carabiner. Or is this passé, and I should be tweeting about it from my iPhone? I can't tell. Which I guess means I'm actually terminally unhip. Ohwell.

To continue my mind-numbingly trivial navel-gazing, I just left T-Mobile behind, hopefully forever. The phone (a Motorola V880) had awful battery life, and the service coverage was lousy. Plus this'll reduce the money my family pays overall to The Man, which is always a worthy goal.