my week as a luddite ie please call/email me

Well, more than a week and it’s not over yet.

It all starts with the USB ports on my laptop shorting out and dying. MSO kindly tried to swap out parts from a matching laptop to mine and managed to fry the motherboard. It was 96% chance not his fault and really a knock on effect of the USB problem.

Let’s add to that Qwest pulled the plug on our internet at work (old system) and then tech support lied to me about the fact that they could ping me. We will have new, different provider, internet on Tues. of this next week.

Then to top it all off… My phone died. The one and only cell phone that I have loved. The one I said will have to be pried, cold and dead, from my fingers (the phone being cold and dead – not my fingers) and lo and behold. Well it just was. In this process of unexpected phone death I have received NO phone calls, txts or other communication. I also have lost my phone book. We were unable to bring it back to artificial life long enough to transfer my contact information to the SIM card for transfer to my new phone (which is charging as we speak).

So, if you know me and want me to ever call you again please call me and leave your name and your phone number. Or email me that information, or snail mail it. Leave work, home, cell – however you want me to be able to get ahold of you.

Yes, that means you mom! Dad I still have your number burned into memory.

If you don’t ever wish to hear from me, my apologies, but please skip the snarky comments.

Withdrawl

MSO tried to fix the non-working USB ports on my laptop. Instead he managed, to my surprise and his, fry the motherboard on my laptop. I am, now officially, going through withdrawl of connectivity. Thankfully I can be busy with the gutting of two bathrooms while simultaneously picking out fixtures.

I have to admit MSO hasn’t fried a motherboard unintentionally before. Powersupply, yes (ask about the coin in the case) and probably has fried a hamburger but not an egg….

Poor guy has to be stressed to the max with everything on his plate and my withdrawl symptoms aren’t helping

Seeds. aka cabin fever

Funny. I haven’t started my seeds yet but was thinking of getting around to the pepper seeds at the very least. I get an email from an old friend who wants to put in an order together. I placed my order two or more months ago. Talk about cabin fever.

ackh. such a hot date on Friday night.

Well, I haven’t been here in awhile. Too many things to juggle and too many people pulling me in different directions. So tonight I had a hot hot date. I spent the evening, after sealing grout, cleaning up hairballs (not mine), … digging plant roots out from the sewer stack and the wall. They were growing so well through the mortar of the bricks that they replaced the mortar in quite a few instances. So one more repair item for my to-do list. No, it doesn’t ever get shorter. It just gets longer and then you die.

So yeah, while others are out having a hot date on Friday night, or snuggling with their sweetie in front of a movie, or playing with their kids I am…. diggin out roots that were loving the sewer stack “mnnn good shit” was what they told me.

I had to take a sawzall to the darned things to get them to separate.

The sad part is MSO won’t even notice. His first question when talking to me today (he’s overseas, again) was not “how are you doing” or any such thing as that. It was “did the server arrive” Go figure. I wonder if I exist. No, I must exist, those plant roots had a good struggle with me. (here’s to hoping they weren’t virginia creeper roots- although I have a sneaking … sinking… suspicion that they are)

High strung

Today the neighbor (in his words) almost got electrocuted to death.  In my words, had a funny mistake that cost him his vacuum.

Long story short, vacuums are not made with cords long enough to reach from the plug, into the elevator, and down to the first floor.  Yup, the door closed on him unexpectedly and took him and the vacuum down a few floors before the cord gave up the ghost.

And no, I don’t think that the warranty will cover this one.

A very modern conversation:

Do you know how to carve a turkey?

(pause) (quiet extends) Noo, do you?

No that is why I am asking YOU.

Oh, maybe Jeff knows how to carve a turkey.

… Jeff enters room

Jeff do you know how to carve a turkey?

J: No, but doesn’t it just peel away on each side until you get to the bones?

What is pathetic about this conversation is that we’re all well educated adults over the age of 30.  Sad.  Pathetic.  Modern.

Somewhere along the line we lost our basic abilities to care for ourselves.  Not that carving a turkey is a necessary skill that rates up there with boiling water and wiping one’s bum.  But still, it strikes me as pretty basic.

You know what this means?

dressidea

Originally uploaded by copperharding

I think I might be a girl! Or I’ve become domesticated. Who knew. NO, this does not mean that anyone should get their hopes up that I’ll pop out a little one. Any little one I’d pop out would be guaranteed to be autistic so… And besides I’m a bit too old for the popping bit, much less the chasing bit.

worth watching

amazing animation, but even more amazing what he has to say.

Congregations.

I swear that someday, far in the future, I will stumble into a corner of the house and find a congregation of tape measures.  I swear they must walk or scoot or something to get away from me.  I know we own at least 5 or 6 and can I find ONE, no not one.

I don’t think that they breed.  It’s not like socks that go disappearing in the dryer and then weeks later a different looking single sock will pop out of the dryer.  They just go.  I wonder if they’re meeting and comparing measurements, how we use them, or what.

Or maybe they’re going extinct.  I don’t think that they die from old age.  I swear we need one of those lock boxes for fires with the glass that says “break in case of an emergency” and then you can flip the switch and get water or whatnot.  We need those positioned around the house with tape measures, and locks on them too so they can’t run away.

Maybe they’re congregating to compare their yellowness or chromeness and rust spots.  Who knows, I just know that they go and it’s quite frustrating.

See we can adapt…

to global warming:

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/31/fashion/31shorts.html?_r=1&oref=slogin

Too bad the plants and animals are, in vast majority, unlikely to deal with rapid rapid ecological change.