Wi-fi is not a Judy Blume book, though it is about fidelity. Wi-fi, short for wireless fidelity should enable me to post this weekend while in the Hamptons. See, yesterday, I purchased and installed a Wireless G card and signed up for T-mobile HotSpot. This seemed neat. Cut the cord. Clean, wireless, sanitary. Yeah, not so much. Admittedly, I’m a mouse tomato. You know, a play on couch potato, but with a computer and female. I imagined hopping into the Bridgehampton Starbucks to enjoy an iced grande skim latte and a little spot of posting. However, the frickin Starbucks in the frickin Hamptons is not frickin Wi-fi compatible. Don’t give me this whole, "good, time for you to relax and let go for a while." Pahhleeze. And because I’m in a share, there are no phone lines. Not one. In all of the posh Hamptons, I’ve got nowhere to go to access the Internet. They’ve got nothing but tennis courts, hot tubs, swimming pools, and monster grills. So, my friends, stay faithful to me, despite my inability to perform all weekend. Now that’s a Judy Blume book: Wifey.