The Pixel Problem

Say hello to the Chromebook Pixel, Google's latest offering in their Chromebook line.

Thin, gorgeous, sleek, stylish, and with a stunning (if oddly proportioned screen), the Pixel is the first Chromebook to actually try and break into the high-end category of laptops that customers are seeing in the market.

The Pixel sports a 12.85-inch 3:2 ratio display which claims to offer 18 percent more vertical space than 16:9 does. The screen has a 2,560 x 1,700 resolution, with 239 pixels per inch, and offers a brightness of 400nit. And it is touch-enabled, so that's there too. Inside, the Pixel has a dual-core 1.8Ghz Core i5 processor, 4GB of RAM and two SSD options -- 32GB or 64GB. For data hoarders out there, Googlel is also throwing in 1TB of Drive storage with every Pixel for three years; what they estimate the life of the machine to be.

I will be the first to admit, I like the Pixel a lot. It has a very good look to it, quite decent internals, and an unmatched, though weirdly sized screen. Oh, and the front has a little cutout for a pretty light show. Yes, I am that easily sold.

What I'm finding harder to stomach, though, is the Pixel's price tag. For the 32gb, wi-fi only model, the Pixel is going for an astounding $1,299. Want 64gb and built-in LTE? You'll be coughing up $1500 for those privileges. In no way should Google be pricing this laptop in what we will refer to as the Apple range of pricing. For less money you can grab a Macbook Air with more memory in it (albeit with a lower resolution, non-touch display).

Yes, Google, the Pixel is a beautiful machine, but it is not worth $1300-$1500 , especially when your Chrome operating system still is a slightly over-glorified web browser. I am currently thinking of picking up a Chromebook because they are astoundingly cheap and I need a replacement for my almost dead laptop, but I would not buy the Pixel. If I was spending that much money, I would do so on a fully-fledged laptop with all the bells, whistles, and stats to back it up.

The weirdest thing about this laptop, though, is how Google is seemingly going against itself. Remember the Nexus 7 for $299? How about the Nexus 4, unlocked, for $350 (16gb model). Or, more recently, the Samsung Chromebook and Acer C7 Chromebooks for $249 and $199 respectively? Google's modus operandi lately has been undercutting competition to show that they can deliver the same if not more in a product for less of a price; and now they are going over almost everyone else (including Apple)? It seems to me like their marketing teams haven't been working together very well lately.



Also, check out this weird, Apple-y video spot for the Pixel. Strange.

Confession #8: Writer's block

Wow, I've been slightly absent over the past few weeks, haven't I?

So much has changed but, strangely, it feels like so little has actually happened. Or, should I say, it feels like I haven't done much of anything. Coincidentally, that's the topic of the post

(*gasp* Matt, you're so smart tying in a theme throughout your post!)

Doing nothing this summer has contributed to my overall desire to do...well, nothing. Including writing on this blog. Sure I went to Boston and met great people. Yes, I did go to Pittsburgh last weekend. Of course I did lose my best friend a few days ago. Even with all that I still feel like I have nothing to write.

Or nothing to write that's important, entertaining, informative; you know, all the things I want this blog to maybe be.

It's writer's block, methinks.

It also is an excuse to incorporate my favorite comic strip to the post.

All my grandiose, far-fetched dreams of what this blog could be have come crashing down around me; over the span of just a few weeks. I feel stuck in a rut. A 40 hour a week rut that is a dead-end internship which is challenging me only in how long I can stay awake. It's sucking everything out of me and, now, whenever I'm home or have free time, I just want to lay around, sleep, and generally do nothing.

Least of all write and be all intelligent.

In fact, I don't feel like doing that now even. Well played, writer's block, well played indeed.

Letter #2

Refer to Letter #1 for more of an explination.

Dear _ _

It's been almost 24 hours now since everything happened and I'm feeling like what happened was for the best. For both of us.

I spoke with a friend for over an hour last night about things and he, from his third-party perspective, made me realize things about myself that I'm not proud of but it made me realize I needed to let you go as much as you needed to let me go.

As he pointed out, you were being used by me. Maybe not used. That's a poor choice of words. But I was keeping you in my life as a form of protection.

Last fall, as you knew, I basically lost all of my friends out there at school. This left a void in my life that, until recently, I wasn't aware of. Then I met you. You filled that void. Or, more accurately, you were a band-aid for it. A good band-aid. No, a great band-aid but even the best band-aids can only do so much. You protected me from the pain and lonliness that I didn't want to feel and, because of that, I didn't want to let you go.

This doesn't mean I didn't come to care about you and cherish our friendship more than any other. I did. And still do actually. I just had some subconscious selfish stuff going on as well and I feel sorry for that. I was hurting you by staying around because I didn't want to have you removed from my life and make me face the pain that void would leave. Selfish. Stupid. I'm sorry.

I should never have used you as a crutch like that or as someone to block the pain. Even in the unconscious way I was doing so. It's time for me to face the music, alone, and hope that both you and I can ride out the storm that is coming.

Yesterday was the proverbial ripping off of the band-aid. It hurt like hell at first, stung, made my eyes water. The skin is still raw underneath and the wound is still there. Granted, it is diminishing and healing slowly, but there is still some healing left to be done before no more band-aids are needed.

All my love,
Matt

Letter #1

This is a letter to you. You know who you are. You know why I'm writing this (and will probably write others). I have no clue if you'll ever read this. Part of me hopes so. The rest of me hopes you don't. All I know is I have too many thoughts right now that are pummeling every part of my psyche to get by without telling you; even in this indirect, and not literal kind of way.

Dear _ _

I'm sitting here after crying three, no, four times today. I'm not saying this is your fault; chances are it's mine. I just want you to know that I'm still thinking about you and will be for quite some time to come.

I am sorry that I can't feel about you how you feel about me. As you said, you can't predict how love will work. And I do love you; just not in such a romantic way (if that even makes any sense). I would give anything to love you back, to fix things, to find you the one person who is perfect for you. I am sure that person is not me. As much as you may think so, I'd do you more harm than good. In fact, it seems I already have.

This one fact causes me more grief than I can properly describe. My last wish was to hurt you in any way and I seem to have done that, despite my best intentions. You should know how terrible that must be for me. I can tell you, it's much worse than you might be thinking. Although we haven't known each other for an overly prolonged period of time, you basically have come to know everything about me; every quirk, every deep facet of my mind and how I think and feel. For that, there can be no substitute. No one has come that close to me in my entire 20 years of life. You have become, for lack of a more scholarly sounding phrase (which I know you would enjoy), a daily presence in all aspects of my life.

That is what makes our goodbyes so difficult.

Now I face a hole; a dark, gaping hole in my life that was once filled by someone so wonderfully vibrant and full of life and so like me that it was hard to think you weren't in some way inside of my head. I feel lonely. I feel scared. I feel hurt. Most of all, though, I feel sad. Sad for what could've been, sad for what I couldn't give you, sad for what I wanted from you, sad that I could never be for you what you were for me, and sad that I seem to have let you down. I am devastated at the thought of letting you down.

And, yet, here I sit; eyes bloodshot and puffy, nose stuffed up, with a gaping hole in my heart where you once resided. I know it is my fault and, god help me, I know that if there was any possibility at all to help you through this I would use every single resource I possibly could to make you happy once again. You've given and shown me so much in the time we had together; I could never possibly dream of matching that for you.

But here's where I start. With this letter.

I've said I'm sorry. I tried to type out a bit of what I feel. Even though you might never read this, it's now out there. Maybe in a year, two years, five years, a decade our paths will cross again. I pray it's sooner rather than later. I pray that you find happiness; god knows one of us needs to (and I'd honestly rather see it happen to you). I pray that we can be friends, or at least reconnect. And, most of all, my dearest friend, I pray that you never forget me; that you never forget the smiles and the laughs, the dinners, the movies, the secrets shared, and the lives that we entwined together.

I know that I sure as hell will never forget.

With all of my love,
Matt

Confession #7: The past is no more

Damn.

I'm growing up.

I just got back from a night out with friends, old friends from high school that I hadn't seen for a while. We didn't do anything special, just hung out at the pond we always used to swim and have bonfires at while we talked into the late night. We did that again, everything was as it was; except it really wasn't.

Our one friend just got back from South Africa on a 'service and learning' program. Another is leaving for Spain for a year in a few weeks. They talked about college, what they've done, how they've been drinking (we were never that crowd in high school), what bars they want to go to in a year when we're 21, etc. The usual topics showed up, but the lightheartedness was gone.

Monday we wouldn't all be going to be walking the same halls together. We wouldn't share the same gossip, sit in the same classes, have the same schoolwork. We wouldn't be continuously connected like we once were. All of us have our own lives now. Those lives come with our own problems now; grown-up problems. Where to live, how to afford things, managing work and life, relationships, bills. No more are we helpless and carefree highschoolers. We're living in the real world now.

I look back at other nights spent at the Pond, nights we spent laughing, thinking about the future, hoping for such great things. We were so carefree then; only foolishly worrying about some essay or asinine test and only looking forward to life after graduation. There was no reason to grow up, not yet, so wasting time gossiping, swimming, and eating s'mores was the perfect way to pass a few hours.

Now, though, it's all changed. The changes are small, sure, but noticeable. We no longer look ahead, we look behind and reminisce about high school, how we were friends, what we did, when we had fun. We worry about real things now that impact our lives; food, money, housing, life in general. We gossip, but it's self-centered. Nobody knows our friends now, or our lives, where we go and with whom. We embellish to look good, to impress, we never would do that before. Then again, we never had to, we all experienced almost the same things

Still, it's weird, looking at my friends and realizing that we are, at the same time, closer and farther apart than we have ever been. We are connected through our past, years spent together forging bonds that have lasted this far, and yet our futures are all completely different and it isn't even certain we will all remain friends. As it is some among our ranks haven't come back. It's like two different versions of the same people converging at the same place; what we remember from the past and what we have become.

The past is remembered and loved for what it was, the future is feared for what it can be, and all of us just want things to be as they always were, even though they can never be that way again. It's both terrifying and sad at the same time. We are still friends, no doubt about that. We laughed and joked, talked and remembered. There were instances where time and place were forgotten and we just were; we were kids having fun and being ourselves. But then, something would break the illusion, our eyes would lose that joyous spark, and the would would come back to us in one crushing moment. For that time, those few precious moments, it was like nothing had changed, even though everything had.

Confession #6: Now

Now


I sit here on the grass looking out

At the same sky we watched

Burn out in a flash of glory that evening.

I laugh.

I remember when I called you baby.

And when you slapped me.

It seems strange we ever got along

Since we were so different.

But, still, it seemed right to me.



I sit here and wonder what you are doing back home;

Having a party, watching a movie, leaving me behind.

I look back at the sunset, and realize

You never left me.

I left you.

And I know what you are doing back home.

You’re sitting on a hill, with an empty space next to you,

Watching the sun make its final descent.

You break the silence and ask yourself;

“What is he doing right now?”

Confession #5: A picture is worth more than 1,000 words

Pictures.
Photographs.
Photos.
Pics.
Snapshots.
Whatever your favorite noun is, our society is obsessed with them. We take photos of everything, in every part of our lives. Then we share all these things to everyone in the world over the internet. Why do we do this? Why do we put almost every single part of our personal lives out there for the world to see? Why? Because we are obsessed with our lives, the lives of those around us, and finally have the means readily available for everyone to preserve different pieces of their lives for the future.

Look around you. How many objects can you see or grab that have a camera on them? My count is 11, and I am just in my bedroom. I have my Kinect for Xbox, my current phone, my old phone, my other old phone, my tablet, my laptop, my old laptop, my iPod, my 3DS, and two cameras. That is a LOT of stuff to take pictures with (okay, okay, technically Kinect is used to play games and make video calls but still).

Pictures are wonderful, they capture moments both good (like above) and bad and provide a way to immortalize a moment for future posterity. I personally love photographs because I love the art of photography and all of the intricacies that go into getting a stunning picture to keep forever. I share my pictures everywhere and take them with everything that I can. How crazy is the number of devices that now have camera capabilities? We are almost unable to miss capturing any moment we want, which is, pardon the colloquial phrase, freaking awesome!

My whole life (almost) will be preserved somewhere in the annals of the internet basically forever. In 30 years I will be able to look back at my Facebook or Twitter or Flickr account and see what I was doing in college, where I was going, who I was with. Vintage photographs are quickly becoming a thing of the past (pardon my pun) due to the ever increasing storage and "cloud" space available to everyday people. As long as I use the internet, my life will, pretty much, be there for me to look back on whenever I want.

Looking back into the past is wonderful; the sense of nostalgia it creates and the memories it unearths are priceless. Even now, being almost 20, I'm looking back at my life by way of pictures from when I was growing up and am astounded by the things I remember and how much I have changed over the years (just look at that adorable blond boy in the boat up there).

I'm not trying to make some big, grand point here with this post, I'm merely just enthusing about how great modern technology is. I am, however, telling you all to do something. Go out and take pictures. I don't care if you are good at is or if you have fancy schmancy camera gear, just go record your life. In a few decades, or even years when you look back on it, you'll be quite glad you preserved some things. I mean, who wouldn't want to remember moments like this?

Confession #4: As the Years Flow By Like a River

So, it's my birthday this month.

Yay. Of course this means cake and presents and felicitations and songs and all kinds of pointless frivolity. Oh, and another number tacked onto my life. This year I'll finally be moving into the third decade of my life (that's my 20's for those of you who aren't exceptionally gifted with numbers). That's right, no longer a teen, one year closer to drinking legally and gambling, and one year closer to death.

How's that for a happy thought?

Not to rain on my parade too much, but I have just been thinking a lot more about time lately. I can't seem to pinpoint the exact reason why its been on my mind but I'll just attribute it to me growing up.

I've been here these last few months/years just watching lives go by. Not only my own, although that has flown by, but those of my family and friends. Every year I watch my parents get older, grow closer to retirement. I see my sisters move through college, graduate, attempt to make their own way in the world. And, most frightening, I see myself end high school, enter college, and move ever closer to graduation and the 'real world."

Ever get that feeling that time is slipping away much too fast for you to control; moving you further and further away from who you are, your friends, family, and everything that was familiar? Yeah, I know what that is like.

Can you spend a little time, 

Time is slipping away,

Away from us so stay, stay with me

There are quite a few people I wish I could say that to; people I feel slipping away from me because of time rushing past us. People, no, friends who I don't want to lose. Moving away from friends is a normal process in life, though. You make friends over the years, some stay, some go. Those who leave are soon replaced,  and life moves on; even if a little emptier than before. It is something that we all have, and will experience, I'm just laying it out plain for you.

I think this is one of the pains of being in college. College and high school are often lauded as the "best years of your life" and a time where you can just enjoy being young and free and stupid. We go out, fall in love, take classes, make frugal amounts of money, blow all that money on trivial things, party, and just generally not care about the future; but, really, how can we care about it? We are in a 'time between times' as it were. No longer kids, but not yet fully adults. More independent than before, but less so than we will eventually be in a few years. These years seem to be nothing more than a glorified waiting period, a way to ease ourselves into what life will be like for us after school (i.e. jobs, taxes, bills, family). Nothing can really be done in this period of life beyond wasting what time we have.

Many of us will get jobs or internships as a way of trying to launch our career; whatever glorified dream that may turn out to be at the time. Almost none of us, though, will know what to do with ourselves until we finally get thrown out, headfirst, into the fierce and unapologetic world we have been, at least slightly, insulated against all of our lives thus far. Then it is finally time for us to live, just in time for us to die.

I know this post sounds very dark and depressing, and it is; but with good reason. No one really talks about time and how fleeting it is, so, when the subject is brought up, we squirm and try and forget about it. Once we realize how valuable (and short) our time really is, though, we really start to live. When we take risks, act impulsively, fall in love, make mistakes, and actually have fun. 

That is what college and the "time between times" is all about. Fun. Not learning, not getting your career started, but having what good times you have while you're still young and virile enough to enjoy them. You're still forgiven and have time to make up for mistakes. You have your whole life ahead of you and your whole life behind you too. You are in the middle, stuck between the two halves of your life; child you and adult you meshing together. Make what you can of it, enjoy these 'Limbo' years. 

Remember, this is the last time you'll be a kid and the very first time you'll be an adult. Make the most of it.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go figure out what disgustingly unhealthy abomination of a cake I'm going to have on the 24 to celebrate my passing one more year out of childhood, and one more year into being an adult.

Confession #3: Round Peg in a Very Square Hole

I was faced with my first blow of crushing hopelessness today. It happened, I'd say, sometime between arriving at my cubicle and realizing that everyone around me is at least three decades older and have been at this job their whole life. And, it was obvious, they were expecting the same thing to happen to me.

No.

This is an absolutely terrifying thought to me. Now that I hate the company I work for or the people I work with or anything, I am just terrified to think that everyday, for the rest of my life, I will be going to the same place, doing the same thing, for the same amount of time with no change. Every. Single. Day. That is what scares me.

I just would not be able to handle that horrible, mind-numbing routine.

Don't get me wrong, I like routines, having a general idea what is going on makes me feel comfortable, but only in a a very generalized sense. I enjoy variation in my schedule; freedom to do what I need when I want from where I want (home or office). Thinking about being forced into the corporate grind is enough to make me start becoming both anxious and depressed.

No, I don't want to work part time where I never know my schedule and hardly get paid anything, but at the same time, that would almost be preferable to a cubicle for eight hours a day every day for more money. Maybe it's because it is summer time for me, this is my first internship/"grown-up" job, or that I haven't fully grown up yet, but I am just dreading the rest of this summer right now. Hell, I want to go back to school at this point. Let's chalk it up to early job acclimation and see what changes in the next few weeks.

Right now, though I want my summer back. And I now know, for a fact, that I will never, ever, have my career leave me in a cubicle.

Confession #2: The Bored and the Bold

Before we begin, this is my first post from a mobile device so bear with me if the content and layout is a little lacking.

Currently I am in hour four of day three of soul-crushing boredom. This time has all been spent waiting for my security clearance to get into a nuclear power plant (where my internship is). I've been waiting for eight hours for three days just to walk into where my job is. At least I'm getting paid, right?

Yeah, well that isn't helping all that much. I've been sitting here listening to conversations between two guys I lovingly christened the "alpha-males" and it's only adding to my boredom. Today's topics of discussion between them? Working out, supplements, partying, how manly they are, how much they drink, and etc. Sounds thrilling right?

This makes me think, surprisingly enough, about boredom in and of itself. We can be in situations like this and claim to "have nothing to do" but we don't try to change anything. I mean, I've been sitting in this same chair for almost a full 24 hours now; bored as I am, I'm still here. Still draining phone and tablet batteries, trying to make it through the interminable ticking of the ungodly loud clock until 3pm when I can finally leave.

At the end of the day, though, it really isn't that bad. Yes, it's boring as hell and I don't want to be here, but, conversely, what would I be doing if I wasn't here? Not getting paid for starters. Dicking around online maybe, not accomplishing anything, and not getting any money. So, sure, this sucks, but it could be worse. It's human nature to complain, so I probably will still do that, but I will also feel like I've actually done something today when I get home.

That being said, feel free to engage me in conversation at any time.