No, more than that. I love my Kindle Fire. I cuddle it to my bosom and call it sweetums.
My kid's response: "it's perfect for a 42-year-old lady." Can anything sound more insulting? He explained that he wasn't being dismissive, it just really is perfect for that particular demographic. Mom. (And could he just point out that I'm older than that? So really I've peeled away the years with this purchase. Yes, he could.)
No Kindle for him.
I keep reading these snarky reports about how unresponsive it is, how clumsy and thick and awful. I have yet to see a problem, so now I'm starting to feel a bit like a boho who wandered into a classy party and asked for a Bud Light. I don't have the savoir faire to understand the intricacies of a real electronic device. I have no tricks to make it sing like a well-tuned instrument. Although I do check the free apps every day.
And then I remember what people in my unenlightened world do to regain our sense of self-worth: become proud of our ignorance and return to the state of fuck-it-so-what-[you-effete-snobs].
I'm supposed to be working now, but I think I use my Fire to watch another old episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which I missed when it first showed up. I was having a life back then.
Here's what I do with my free time: read books and watch stuff. Kindle Fire = perfect.