The hear-changing iPad

Ah what a lovely weekend I had at home with the Rents, doing a spot of Christmas shopping, catching up and giving them iLessons, which were necessary after they became the proud owners of an iPhone and iPad!

It all started when Pa decided he wanted an upgrade on his Nokia, so we popped into their local O2 store.

There, he chose a free iPhone 3GS with 300 minutes, unlimited texts and 100mb data for just £18.50 a month.

While the data is not much, the Rents live in the middle of nowhere – luckily with WiFi – so the chances of him actually being able to get reception enough to use any data when out and about is highly unlikely. Plus, if you go over your data allowance with O2, all that simply happens is they slow it down.

Then there was Ma, who's been hankering after an iPad since she could say iPad. But then came the hunt for the one she wanted in white.

Eventually we tracked one down, and reserved it via my iPhone, in Argos and headed there to pick it up.

Ma completely exhausted from all this running around promptly fell asleep on the sofa after arriving home, so I took the iPad, installed the new iTunes on their computer and set it all up for her so when she woke up, she had a fully functioning iPad, complete with a home screen link to this very blog.

But this wasn't really what Ma wanted the iPad for...

Regular readers will know my lovely Ma is going deaf and this has been incredibly hard for her, especially when it comes to keeping in contact with Big Bro in Clogland.

But then on Sunday morning her iPad pinged as she was reading the news on it in bed.

It was FaceTime, and there on the screen was Big Bro and MicroClog wanting to say hello.

Ma was ecstatic at being able to chat to them with such ease.

Then, that evening, the iPad went off again and this time it was MiniClog wanting to say goodnight to Ma.

Then, two minutes later she was Skyping French Cousin 3 and yakking away to him.

When Pa bought Ma this iPad as an early Christmas present, I don't think he realised that what he was actually doing was giving her back a part of her life her deafness had taken away.

The iPad means she can have easy and regular contact with Big Bro and his family again without the struggle of wondering what's being said.

By just having that little bit of a visual clue to help her decipher the words, Ma can hear so much more than if she was on the phone alone. And even better still? It's free.

So what about me? Has this tempted me to get internet at home and buy an iPad?

Honestly? Yes.

Although I would need people to speak quite slowly on Skype or FaceTime so that the lips synced with the voice and I could follow the conversation.

What it has give me though is confidence for the future. Confidence that this way of communicating is only going to get better. That video calls will be the norm and that soon the internet will be so fast, there will be no lipreading delay.

The future is there if you're willing to spend a little bit of extra money.

Thank goodness for MasterCard!

An iPhone noise alert

Yesterday I bought an app called Tap Tap, which alleges to notify you when sounds occur which you cannot hear.

Guess what?

It's rubbish!

I thought it would be a bit of a long shot but seriously it even goes off when I breathe, and even I draw the line about being notified about this.

Take yesterday evening when I tried it out with my microwave timer. It went off every 5 seconds, despite the fact I changed the sensitivity to low, and at one point it even refused to stop vibrating.

My poor iPhone battery didn't know what had hit it.

But wouldn't it be amazing if there was an iPhone app that would notify you of things? Even pre selected things that you could sound record into it so when they went off it recognised it.

I would choose my door buzzer, cooker alarm and carbon monoxide alarm.

To know for sure that these were going off in the form of a little pop up message would be amazing.

I mean, I know you can get pager systems that do this but to have it in the convenience of your phone would be amazing.

Is it possible?

If anyone knows, please let me know.

Deaf Girl learns to tap

Last week I missed my tap class. 

It was too cold, I was too tired, I had stuff to do.

The reality is that all of the above were just excuses as I'm actually finding tap quite hard now I'm six lessons in.

While this may be because I have the coordination of a drunk newborn foal, last night I went along to check, and actually it's not that.

During the class, I looked at what I was struggling at and what I could do. Anything with just toes was fine but whenever any heel tapping occurred I got hopelessly lost, despite the fact I was watching my teacher's feet like a hawk.

So then instead of staring at her feet, I decided to stare at her face so I might grasp what she was saying. Of course, to do this means I couldn't dance at the same time, but what I realised is that she's calling out a drill while our feet going. She's saying 'toe, heel, swish, heel, toe, heel, toe stamp' or whatever and so people are listening to that while copying her feet.

I can only have one or the other.

It was so frustrating. However, I persevered through the wanting-to-cry part and tried my hardest to be upbeat about the whole thing, and it kind of worked.

By pushing through the fug of failure, I realised that I will grasp it – but to do so, I will just have to learn what the teacher is saying so that while I'm looking at her feet, I can be saying it to myself in my head.

Even better, I've made a new friend – yes I'm 5 – and she's going to buy the biggest bit of wood she can find for her kitchen and we are going to practise together.

I won't give this up, because you see, if I can work out the method to learning tap when you're deaf, it will give me a valuable skill that I can apply to learning other kinds of dance, too.

The world will be my dance floor.

Well, let's take it one tap at a time, eh?

Deafinitly Girly and the Boris Bike

Wow! What a brilliant weekend I had with SouperLouper when she came to visit from the Wild West erm... Country.

On Saturday we woke to bright blue sky and sunshine so jumped on a bus to the nearest Boris Bike station and hired bikes. Having never done this before, it's surprisingly easy to work out what to do and soon we were pedalling through the streets of London bound for nowhere in particular.

This nowhere-in-particular route took us through Marylebone, up into Fitzrovia, across to Holborn, Farringdon, up to the Barbican and around to St Pauls where we stopped for lunch and a look at the Occupy London protest.

We then headed down the river bank to Blackfriars, along to Embankment and Westminster, up past Downing Street, waving at Nelson at Trafalgar Square before turning left up the Mall. There we cycled past the front of Buckingham Palace, up Constitution Hill, through Hyde park Corner and into Hyde Park.

This led us to the Albert Hall into High Street Kensington, up past the Palace, and around Notting Hill to a docking station by Portobello Road.

It was marvellous. I loved every minute of it, which surprised me because I've always been a bit nervous about cycling in London due to not being able to hear what's going on. However, throughout the day I just reminded myself to think like a car and not cycle in the gutter. And it seemed to work. 

Sure I experienced first hand the impatience of London drivers and their need to over take bikes even when it's not physically possible, and sure there were some scary white van man occurrences but on the whole I was complete inspired by the idea of cycling in London and due to the fact that I know all the quieter back roads, I'm actually thinking about cycling to work.

All I need is a nice bright fluorescent jacket to make me stand out as I go on my way – anyone know if they do these in pink?

Hearing at the opera

Today is Thankful Friday and my first post in a while.

I've been rather busy you see with my day job, with seeing Roxette in concert, with getting my Christmas copy into Hearing Times and reading books on my Kindle, and this means I've forgotten to blog.

However, I do have lots of things to be thankful for today, and one of the best is that SouperLouper is coming to stay this weekend. I'm so looking forward to seeing her – it's been 5 months – and we're going to explore the city on Boris bikes and take in an evening of opera.

Can't wait.

I'm especially excited about the opera, which I have decided is definitely the most accessible form of entertainment out there for deaf people like me, as it's almost always subtitled! Recently, I went to see an opera about the holocaust, and while the music was not really my cup of tea, it was marvellous to know what was going on. The only time I got lost was when I fell asleep – much to Jenny M's embarrassment.

I sometimes to marvel at my ability to fall asleep in the most unlikely places. It seems whenever there is loud ongoing noise, I want to sleep. I once fell asleep in the nightclub Bungalow 8 while being chatted up by a Spaniard, and then there was the time I actually kipped right through a Tangerine Dream concert.

To be fair though, apart from Pa – who was loving the whole electronic spectacle complete with a projection of the silent movie Dante's Inferno – I think a lot of the people at that Tangerine Dream concert would have loved to have my ability to sleep in noisy places...

So tomorrow, I am going to do everything possible not to fall asleep. I am going to take sugary sweets to give me a boost, a drink of water to keep me hydrated and matchsticks for my eyelids.

I will be cultured...
I will be cultured...
I will be cultured...

Have a lovely weekend peeps.

DG
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Eating out in New York

One of the things I loved about New York was the vast array of places you could choose to eat in each day.

And, although we did indeed eat in a different place for every meal, I felt as though we barely scratched the surface of the culinary delights on offer.

One of my biggest fears was ending up in the US equivalent of an Aberdeen Angus Steakhouse so Godmother, who met us in NY from Syracuse, gave us a great tip – ask the concierges and staff in shops where they'd recommend.

This method really works. It meant we had a delicious dinner at the Rock Centre Café overlooking the ice rink at the Rockerfeller Centre in what should have been, but wasn't, a touristy restaurant.

Our fabulous waiter brought me birthday apple pie, complete with candle, plus a delicious espresso martini, and the food was gorgeous.

The next night, by recommendation, we ended up at PJ Clarke's, an amazing burger bar on the corner of 55th and 3rd. With a queue out the door, a bar so narrow I got a bottle of beer knocked down my top and then napkin offers from an array of attentive men, and a buzzing post-work atmosphere, this place was a hit from the start. And the food was excellent, too, with burgers, string onions and skinny fries...

Then there were all the daytime places – the Starbucks in the lobby of the Waldorf Astoria, where we grabbed our coffee before going in search of breakfast. The Pershing Square Café opposite Grand Central Station, which served portions so big that breakfast on my first day lasted me ALL day. Then there was Blooms – an amazing bustling diner which served everything from gigantic hash browns to pancakes and maple syrup.

One place I loved for the atmosphere was Viand on Madison Avenue. This long, skinny restaurant with a seated bar and tables for two opposite had a kind of shut-up-and-eat atmosphere about it. Coffee was stronger than Popeye and food was cooked right there in front of you before being served up by gruff Italians.

I LOVED it.

For afternoon coffee, the Financier, just of 3rd Avenue and 59th st offered the best Florentines, while Starbucks in Union Square's Barnes & Noble provided a welcome respite from rush-hour madness.

Snacks came from Duane Reade pharmacies – a place that seemed to be more bad for your health than good and I may have consumed more than a couple of peanut butter m&ms.

And the weirdest thing? I lost 4lb during my trip to the Big Apple! All that walking and assuming that just because I could see the Chrysler Building from where I was meant it wasn't that far, cause me to walk off the bagels I ate that were as big as my head and the amazing burgers of PJ Clarke's.

In fact, next time I want to go on a diet, I'm off to New York...

Deaf girly and the flashing fire alarm

I don't know about you, but sometimes the whole 'staying in hotels and wondering if I will hear the fire alarm thing' stresses me out.

But then I am a natural worrier. I don't get on a boat without first wondering where the lifeboats are, a plane without counting my seats to the emergency exit, and car without first making sure the driver isn't a complete nutter…

Anyway, back the the hotel thing… on the rare occasions that a flashing light alarm is available I still wonder whether this method will wake me in the event of an emergency, so as a result remain nervous.

Twenty-five floors up the Waldorf Astoria I was more than a little nervous , but the excitement of the view and the promise of a fun day ahead meant, on our first night in the city, I went off to sleep with ease until..

WAHOOWAAHOOO

*flash, flash, flash, flash

I woke up at 1am with my room being turned into a disco. The strobe light was going, the table lamps had come on and the fire alarm, which was low and loud enough for my ears to pick up was going off.

And so, no longer worried about whether the fire alarm would wake me, I instead to begin wonder how long it would take to get down 25 flights of stairs in a hurry if the building really is on fire? Particularly as I'd already seen the average age in the Waldorf Astoria was not all that spritely.

But I needn't have worried because soon, amid the still flashing strobe – yes, by this point it was causing me to see stars, too – a voice came over a tannoy and said something... And after a quick translation from my Rents, it was established that the whole thing was a false alarm and we could all go back to sleep.

As I lay there, the flashing of the strobe light indelibly imprinted on my now-shut eyelids, adrenalin coursing through my weary traveller body, I couldn't help grinning to myself.

I'd been woken by a flashing fire alarm. These things actually work for me.

And at least if mine ever goes off at home, I will have fewer stairs to head down – just several bikes to dodge and some flammable materials I hope don't explode in my neighbour's hallway.

Hmmm, I think I'll move back to the Waldorf Astoria.

Flying to New York

I had a very legitimate reason for not blogging last week, and here it is;

I was in New York!

*Squeal!

I've never been to the Big Apple before and having only seen it in the movies and of course Sex & the City, I didn't really know what I would make of it.

So let's start at the very beginning of the adventure shall we? In a week of NYC blogs.

So, it really started the day before we left when I tried to check us in to our flight, which we booked through BA but that was code shared with American Airlines. With BA you can log in and choose seats 24 hours before your flight. With AA, the seats are given over to the airport 24 hours in advance, and the gods of bad plane seating had allocated us seats at the back in the middle of a row of five.

Frustrated and slightly worried about how Pa and his new hip would cope being shoehorned into a tiny row, I rang the airline, armed with a list of yes/no questions so it didn't matter if I didn't hear. And they were very helpful.

Could I do anything about our allocated seating? Yes

Could they do anything about it? No

Would I have to fix it at the airport? Yes

Would this mean getting there early? Yes

And so we did. Embarrassingly early. But it worked. We were allocated bulkhead seats at the front of cattle class with room for Pa and also good for me as when the flight attendants spoke to me, they could crouch down to my level and make it easier to lipread.

What was even better is that even in economy there were plug sockets, so I was able to plug in my DVD player and watch subtitled movies the whole way. Subtitled New York-themed movies!

The service on the flight was also excellent. Our flight attendant was amazing. I explained to him I was deaf and every announcement that was made he came to check I knew what was going on. He even attempted to make me laugh right after he told me the flight crew were being seated 45 minutes early because it was going to be a very bumpy and snowy landing.

Not being a massive fan of turbulence, I ended up being brilliantly distracted by the Fab Family sat to our right.

The lovely guy told me all about the places where I should eat in New York, he explained why it was more bumpy at some times than others, and he told me how much he loved New York City.

It was amazing. I forgot about the turbulence and the fact that I had an amazing city to discover began to sink in.

We bade them farewell at JFK and hopped in a yellow taxi in the snow storm.

Three days later by the restrooms in the basement of Century 21 (which is basically TK Maxx on acid) I looked up to see the Fab Family right there in front of me.

On the big island that is Manhattan, I had bumped into the only people I knew of in the city, in the shadow of the former World Trade Centre. What a bizarre coincidence?

It was fabulous to see them again and share my experience of New York – although I never did get to go to the Brandy Library…  but there is always next time…

But what I did do was walk for miles and miles and miles and miles… but I will tell you all about that tomorrow.

Captions on plane flights

This morning I got up, got dressed and left my house 25 minutes earlier than usual simply because I neglected to look at my watch while getting ready.

Striding down my road – in the dark – it suddenly occurred to me that it was rather quiet… and dark, and sure enough the time was a good enough explanation for this.

To celebrate my stupidity, I treated myself to a cheese and Marmite panini in Starbucks and read my book. And now, I actually feel rested as I start my working day.

This week has been one of barely suppressed excitement, because next week I am going on holiday – and before any burglars get any ideas, I have a housesitter, a very marvellous one indeed.

In preparation for my holiday, which includes a long-haul flight, I emailed the airline – British Airways – to ask them about what provisions they made for deaf people with regards to in-flight entertainment.

I asked this because there is nothing worse than having a whole load of movies at your fingertips and not being able to watch them. And I know this because a few years ago, when flying to Istanbul, I watched a whole movie with the language channel on French and didn't notice.

So anyway, their customer services team got back to me incredibly quickly and informed me that the flight I was going on was a shared service with American Airlines. She also told me that  American Airlines have plug sockets – even in economy – so, as long as I bring an adaptor, I can take a portable DVD player with me and watch subtitled movies to my heart's content!

How about that?

I was also told that there has been a note added to my booking so that the crew will know that I can't hear.

I know that offering a plug socket  is not the same as offering accessible in-flight entertainment, but it's a start, isn't it?

But what I want to know, is why there isn't an accessible entertainment system available on planes. SouperLouper got in touch and told me that on a recent Malaysian Airline flight she took, all the films had English subtitles. And the few times I've flown with Turkish Airlines, there's always been some subtitled movies, too. But English-speaking airlines just don't seem to offer this.

Indeed, a guest blogger and Twitter mate, Caroline O'Neil also looked into this issue, and her experience can be found here.

Rather alarmingly, what she discovered was that air travel is exempt from the Equality Act 2010.

How the heck does that make sense?

A quick google reveals that Emirates is also now offering captioned films, so hopefully other airlines will soon follow. But in the meantime, I think the only solution is to travel on non-English speaking airlines. At least that way, SOMETHING will be subtitled other than the in-flight safety video, because as Caroline said in her post, watching that 109 times is not anyone's idea of fun!

Deafinitely Girly's broken her feeds

It would seem that I've somehow broken by feedburner  thingymagicwotsit... I have done my best to fix it, which means typing random things in random boxes and clicking yes and no indiscriminately and it seems to have worked... I THINK.

However, if you get my blog via a feedthingy, could you please let me know that you've got this so that I can stop stressing out about why I hardly get any hits on my blog at the mo and start blogging again.

Many thanks
DG

Deaf girly loves O2!

This week I have praise for O2!

I know, I was shocked to be writing that sentence, too, but after yet another hideous iPhone bill due to my ability to go over the 500 free text messages included in my plan, I decided enough was enough.

I had a look online at the upgrade/downgrade options and got completely confused before emailing O2 for advice. Somehow my email must have gone twice as one person contacted me and said pop into a store to discuss things, and the other person, despite my email explaining my deafness, suggested I call customer services.

Hmmmm

So on Saturday I went to a central London O2 store and the god-of-reducing-your-phone-bill gave me Sam!

Now, I'm pretty sure my love for Sam is not mutual as I asked more questions in the 30 minutes I was there than he probably gets in a week, but he answered them all with charm and grace.

I explained to him my bill issue, and he saw it with his own shocked eyes when he called my details up. I then explained to him the 'dropping my phone down the loo' issue and that although I'm due an upgrade, my phone is not yet a year old so it would be a sheer indulgence to get another one – particularly having paid a £150 insurance excess on my first one.

Anyway, back to Sam. He was brilliant! He recommended I move to a rolling sim-only contract for just £10.50 with a data bolt on of £10 and the best thing? I get unlimited texts. I lamented about the lack of unlimited data but he showed me that this was something I actually didn't need and that if it was readily available to all O2 customers then everyone's network speed would be slower.

He also explained to me that as I am on a rolling contract, I can upgrade my phone any time to a shiny iPhone 4S but that this buys me some time to wear this phone out and for the newer model to go down in price.

I also cancelled my insurance (saving me another £15) because if I lose this phone, it will be cheaper to just upgrade than pay another £150 excess.

In all, the lovely Sam managed to shave £50 off my phone bill and while this isn't great news for O2 in terms of income in the short term, in the long term it has dramatically reduced the chances of me changing mobile providers.

What was even better was that Sam, noticing how slow my iPhone was showed me that if you double click the bottom button it brings up a base bar of all the apps that are open. I did not know about this. And that meant that my phone had all its apps open all the time – and had done for the last year.

I left that O2 shop very, very happy. Happy that the stress of the expense of my iPhone bill had been dramatically reduced. Happy that my faith in O2 had once again been restored, and happy that when I do decide to upgrade and get a calling plan to suit me, I know just the man to ask

Thanks O2. You did good!

My bus journey of memories

Today, as I travelled through the crisp and bright London streets on my bus, I closed my eyes and conjured up memories from my past.

Memories that were formed in places that I pass by every day, but rarely stop to think about.

On my bus journey to work, there are many. And today, all the memories I'm seeing a specific to my fabulous London family. The first burger I had during a summer work placement in London at 15; the time we went rollerblading in Hyde Park and I 'accidentally' crashed into a gorgeous man; the dinner party behind Selfridges where we sat on upturned bins, and the tree planting there, too.

Thanks to my photographic memory, my eyes can put the people who are missing from the memory back in. My aural memory conjures up their laugh, and in a flash I can see a moment between us all, captured in time.

Back then, I took all that for granted. Now I don't. The memories you make today should last forever. More than 2,566 days have past since my last memory was made of my complete London family. Treasure your memories and keep them safe, because one day that is all you will have. And for me, these memories are what will keep me going today.

Not hearing at my gym

This morning I slept through three vibrating alarm calls. Three! Before waking up 10 minutes before I had to leave the house.

The shock of seeing the time on my watch saw me sit up in bed so quickly it actually fell off the wooden blocks that make it high enough to store my shoes underneath, before flying out of bed, tripping over my phone charger cable and face planting the carpet.

This is not a recommended way of starting the day.

I am now sat, wild haired and wild eyed on the bus, wearing the weirdest combination of clothes, including an angora sweater that I bought nearly a decade ago.

I have no idea what my fellow passengers must think, particularly as I am also eating bread straight from a bread bag – I only had two slices left and it seemed like a good plan at the time.

Anyway, this week is flying by – with a mix of work, gym and tap dancing classes, plus far too many dinners out for my waistline and bank balance.

But on the hearing front, I am struggling. First there was my spinning class with the big ginger gorilla. Normally I follow him OK as he doesn’t turn the lights out, but yesterday he did, and I had no clue what was going on. Then, yesterday evening in body conditioning class, my teacher conducted the most undeaf-friendly class ever – even though she knows I’m deaf.

There were noisy steps that drowned out her voice and a million exercises that saw me lying on my back with absolutely no clue what was going on. The Singing Swede tried to help, but even she – with hearing – found it difficult to follow.

What frustrates me about this is that I don’t feel like I can say anything. I mean, why should I expect these people to tailor their classes to suit me? Is that fair on the other 20 people in the class?

And the logical answer is no. But what also frustrates me is that these classes are the pick of the best. They’re the ones that I have gratefully found after trying a wealth of other classes that were even more undeaf-friendly.

But I am going to persevere – mainly because if I don’t then there will be nothing to balance out all the delicious food I’ve been consuming this week.

And in other news, it is nearly time for my holiday. I am flying with British Airways – does anyone know what provisions they have for deaf people in terms of in-flight entertainment?

If so, let me know!

Have a good day, peeps.

DG

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