Posts Tagged ‘computers’

Deeeeeeeeeeep Breath

Well, here we are again in The Elegant Bean, which appears to be the designated home away from writing home for the foreseeable future.  Now that I’ve finally read PLANETWAVES (nothing like a week of email, is there?)  and learned of the upcoming full moon on Saturday in my very own crazypants sign, I see that the cosmic push pull may have contributed just a tee tiny bit to the major effort it took not to burst into tears when:  In the wifi world of T.E. Bean, my trusty laptop just would not, no way no how, no sirree, NYET WHAT PART OF THIS DON’T YOU GET, simply would not connect to the internet.  Oh, I tried.  I restarted.  I added to the keychain.  I asked it what the freaking hell it was doing.  I reminded said laptop that we were not in the yurt, therefore it didn’t need to keep telling me it couldn’t find the server or its ass with both hands.

Of course, finally, in the way of such things, it did connect.  I think the laptop feels it is enough of a Grande Dame not to have to connect to all these…well, STRANGE….networks.  Jakes Take and Bake?  Still, one is grateful.  Also happy to have mustered enough focus not to leak all my brains out my ears before I even saw the long and winding road ahead….note to self.  Never mind Facebook.

BUT ANYWAY.  Naturally my head is full of words up on the hill, when I’m doing chores and trying to keep it all together.  I’ve been writing in snatched invervals with the antediluvian instruments of a Bic and a college ruled notebook, and what’s interesting is that it comes out differently that way.  Typing is SOOOOO much faster.  Plus generally you can read typing, but what the heck.   In any event, once I get to T.E. Bean it’s ground zero and of course making sense of all those handwritten pages..well, it’s interesting.  There often isn’t a thought in my skull here.  Still.  This is now the Designated Time That Has Been Carved Out.  It has helped me to some extent think more clearly about what it is I’m trying to write, say, do.  And although the Partner and I have pretty much agreed that it is only through divine intervention that we’re still breathing at this point, and therefore, WTF?!? this…thing that’s trying to wend its’ way out into the world still demands to be attended to.  So I guess that’s a good thing.

It has made me think about everything going on now, in a different way, this emerging thing.  Partly it brings up the question of how much does one say?  How much do you describe, and how honestly, the shaping things that have contributed to wherever it is you are now?  I think it is telling what we learn from our experiences rather than just telling the story of “what happened” that may be really important.  Learning how someone else handled this dastardly situation in which you now shockingly find yourself, knowing that they made it, remembering that there is always something funny about it all no matter how long it takes to find that….there’s something different about that than straight reportage.    Somehow I think it all ties in to this business of truth that floats before my eyes all the time.  There’s also the question of how much to reveal, after all.  Of course the answer to that is everything- but then one must define that everything.  And, maybe it takes some time, quite some time, to actually digest and learn from what has gone on.  Currently we are in a bit of shock from, er, just how long it took little us to get a clue.

Anyway, there’s nothing to do but proceed.  Which I guess will be happening for a while on a schedule that requires, let’s just say, discipline.  I now have to drive 16 miles one way just to get an internet connection- temporary I hope but still.  It’s food for thought, yet again, about just what we need.  How can we do our work, any of us?  How do we get on in life?  A TED talk over the weekend was about how so many people in the world now are, essentially, squatters.  And that number will increase in the coming years.  The huge settlements of people in Lagos, Istanbul, Rio, all the shanty towns of the world- those are all getting bigger, and probably have some interesting things to reveal about how culture is going to be remade if it is to  continue. More horizontal organization once again, instead of hierarchical, is one thing that seems fairly clear.  The speaker asked why people make these huge moves, from their original homes to someplace about which they know nothing, and just pick up and do it.  As someone who is, I think we could say, a sort of Reverse Squatter, I think I can answer that question a bit, and that, I think, is the actual subject at hand.  The task of that subject is how to tell the story so it is understandable, and helpful.

So, dear Gentle Reader, I hope you will continue to tune in.  We may be getting at last to deeply real life.  Which is always an ongoing revelation, and always an invitation to leave fear behind.

They had me at scorpions…

My goodness, Gentle Reader.  These many days since the last post have been filled with frivolity.  Not.

Whether it’s been the intense heat, the smoke from all the fires, the fact that all the kids are out of school and busy surfing the web, or sunspots, the fact is we’ve for the most part had no internet.  For a brief moment there was suspicion of a fried modem, but in the end it appears to be the usual thing.  HughesNet, which is the only game in this one horse town, does not try harder. So I had to keep all the words to myself, more or less.  Which perhaps was not all bad, being a culling and decision making sort of thing, keeping words to oneself.  But more on that later.

The other really fun thing that happened was the Annual Running of the Ants.  As dawn blasted across the sky here a few days ago, 5 or 6ish in the a.m., we once again found ourselves blinking in bed, covered in large, stinky and biting ants.  Vacuuming, shoveling, hosing, trips to town to return with, alas, not bait stations (my brain evidently leaked out my nostrils on the way to town and I couldn’t figure out what I was looking at) but a ridiculous syringe thingy full of goop (of which naturally some found its way into my mouth), more bait stations…..oh, it was just as much fun as ever.  Maybe more.  So when we bethought ourselves of the electronic pest repeller a friend had used against HER ants, we waited feverishly until the internet gave us a 15 minute shot, and found the Pest Repeller Ultimate.  Makes sounds they don’t like and ALSO, here’s the big thing, repels scorpions.  Eureka! we cried, we’re ordering this baby this instant.  Now of course our only problem is where to plug it in but so far…..SO FAR……

Yes.  So far?  So good.  The spiders are bailing, it seems, and we’ve seen no interior ants OR scorpions (WOOOOHOOOOOOO)  Except that the Partner had to kill another rattler last night.   But what the heck.   Then there was the excitement provided by PG&E.  They had scheduled a day long power outage for this week.  You gotta hand it to them, PLANNING to turn off people’s power at the hottest part of the year.  I mean, really.  Also in view of the fact that a large percentage of people here are on wells which means when the electricity is off there’s no water, spectacular timing when it’s 108 degrees in the shade.  We shlepped into a rental place and got a generator to use for that day.  Filled buckets and garbage cans with water.  Then, in a shocking moment of rationality it all got called off in the instant morning.  So, OK, Return generator, blahblahblah.  But at the end of the day, the power went off anyway and we learned even more about the precarious nature of the power grid right here, including the fact that OUR part of it is installed upside down.   Among other things.

Aside from all that…..I’ve been mulling over what exactly wishful thinking might be- I mean, is abiding in faith that things, since they are what they are, will be as they should no matter how it looks in the moment…is THAT wishful thinking?   I think not, really, especially if a person finds themselves confronting something huge (like serious illness or the global “economy”)- it is a way to maintain focus on what needs to be done, and stay in the present instead of inhabiting either a boogeyman-filled future or a regrettable (or nostalgic, for that matter)  past.  It continues to boil down to that Emersonian distinction between AUTHORITY and SPIRIT.  The shift from an externally dictated life to an inner directed one is not, maybe, something everyone wants to do.  Taking that inner direction means to some extent that you abandon acting out of your ego, your personal desires and whatnots, and take a longer and larger view for instruction.  It means on some level your actions are about everyone and not just you.  Gandhi’s admonition to assess one’s actions by whether or not they will be of help to the poorest of the poor….can seem overwhelming.  What can one person do, after all?  But the truth is that one person CAN do something helpful.  Keeping your little piece of the Whole Catastrophe moving in the right (minded) direction really does help others.  There’s a difference between things moving in the right direction all together, more or less, and everyone being in a lock step handed down in the interests of control.  Rivers flow, clouds move, things go on and the huge interconnection can be missed.  That interconnection, though, provides wisdom to the observant- the patterns and flows of things can be seen over time and then the story is more like an astonishing piece of music, in which each thing has a solo along with being an important part of the band.  This leads to the OTHER thing I’ve been mulling over (while vacuuming and weeding and all the rest of it) which is the difference between “spiritual” and “intuitive” healers.  This, to me, is perhaps the way the healing path gets divided overall, no matter what modality the healing is being performed in.  It’s a question of already having a story and fitting the individual into it, versus spending the time to observe, to learn the individual’s story as a whole and seeing how that fits into the overall pattern.   Both ways have things to offer.  I continue to think, though, that one thing going on now, in these times, is a return to the awareness that one size does not fit all.  Each thing, each situation, has to be looked at as a unique constellation, from which threads of continuity may be pulled and harmony can be rewoven.  Tall order, perhaps.

Curving out the straights….

Or, possibly, straits.  What with one thing and another it’s been a few minutes since last I wrote, Gentle Reader.  We’ve had, for example, no internet for some time, on and off.  Weather.  It would seem.  Then again it could just be the veritable fabric of the universe rending itself into intergalactic tidbits.

The Birthday went well, even if it was cakeless.  I made creme brulee instead.  The following Slough of Despond had mostly to do with technical issues, like the aforementioned no internet, although there was the usual amount of Disturbing Personal News.  Also with what I discovered when I GOT internet, which was that once again some body hacked into my website.  Another password change, then I couldn’t get into it myself.   We decided the sensible thing was to watch Pirates of the Caribbean again.

These are all minor things of course although massively irritating- the price one pays for participation in a virtual reality.   People will hack, apparently, no matter what. (Even if, as according to my Web Host, there’s “no reason why they’d hack YOUR site.”) They will also leave strange comments on blogs in Afrikaans.   I’m amazed and happy that people read this blog, and I do thank you all for commenting and following!  It’s astonishingly heartening to see that people are looking, and paying attention, and reading.  It’s just hard, sometimes, to tell what is a comment and what isn’t, so SHOULD YOU leave a comment that revels in ambiguity, perhaps ending in numbers,  please don’t be upset if I don’t get it and thus do not approve it.  If you’re a spammer of course you’re not paying any attention anyway, so no worries.  Thank you all, in any event.

Meanwhile I continue to view the ever widening gap in this country between rich and poor with open mouthed incomprehension.  We’re in a world now where you have to pay for television for God’s sake, get an unbreakable contract for that same television service or a phone, and be fed a constant stream of pabulum (“news”, commercials, ROBOCALLS!) which is supposed to be taken as honest truth through both mediums.  You also have to have health insurance.  Which is even more astronomical in cost than television.  And which, if you are not covered by same, means you get no care if you become ill.  The provisions for non-insured health care in this country are: None.   I hate to be the one to break this news, but not everyone can afford health insurance.  Not everyone feels it prudent to spend $600 or more a month on something they don’t use because they are healthy.  Not everyone wants an insurance or pharmaceutical company to be telling them what care they can receive.  Or a bunch of politicians for that matter.    Yes indeed, many scam the system.   Many more, however,  do not.  But care still needs to be given and attention paid to everyone, whether or not the prevailing review boards think they’re worth saving or not.   I laugh every time I hear the ridiculous assertion about the new Health Care Law- that it includes “death panels”.  Really?  What do you think they call it now when someone who is elderly or disabled or has the “wrong” sort of cancer is refused treatment?  Even if they have insurance?

I really, really wish we could all…stop for a day.  Stop and look.  Then make the changes we need so desperately.  I, for one, am very tired indeed of watching people I know and care about,  as well as those I do not, suffering, dying, because…why?  Because the overweening greed that runs things now has not been served.  Maybe Shakespeare would add bankers and insurance agents to his list in, I think, Henry VIII- if he were still around?

 

 

Thickening Plot

Or, perhaps, curdling.  And, a surfeit of flies for the amount of ointment available. Still, one carries on and as you will see further down, good things do come to those who wait.

So.  Anyway.  I was looking at where people are from who look at my business website, how they reach it, things like that.  Stats to obsess over, right?  One person linked to me from a site that had something like the Pillsbury doughboy in a hard hat on it.  Some are strange looking porn sites.  I get link requests from sites offering “non-invasive cardiac surgery.”  That has got to be pretty darn interesting, don’t you think? But what really amazes me is WHERE everyone is.  I get hits from Glastonbury, Thailand, Paris, Rome, Melbourne, Auckland, Cairo, Isfahan, all kinds of far flung places along with the lovely Russian hackers and mid-Europe browsers and people in New Mexico and Idaho and New York and Wisconsin. I figure its because of the pictures.  Given my ever challenging economic situation, I’m wondering if I should start asking for donations- a good half of the people who look at my site don’t live places I could ship anything to, so you have to wonder.  I’m hoping my photos bring some happiness, anyway.

Which leads me to today’s absolute Trifecta.  It snowed last night and this morning we tottered out, clutching coffee cups in frozen paws, to marvel at the splendor around us.  The sun was shining brilliantly on the surrounding snow covered mountains as well as on our, at that point, snow covered spot.  The sky was blue as blue could be, and the breeze was shaking flakes and clumps of snow off the trees.  It all sparkled like a meteor shower.  I wanted to walk down the road a bit, so we set off.  In a while we came to one of the several places where the creek runs in winter, and we heard the frogs begin singing.  This is an amazing thing to experience.  The first time we ever heard such a thing was while camping about a hundred miles north of here, behind Mt. Shasta, at a lake.  One basso profundo frog usually starts off, then the rest of the frogs in the area come in singly or in small groups and a…it sounds like an actual refrain, gets repeated sort of like singing rounds.  It is breathtakingly beautiful, and on this bright morning with the snow showering into the rippling green waters of the creek it was like a message from another world.  But there was more.  We saw actual bear paw prints.  Actual! Our small neighbor had been padding around apparently in the dawn time, and there they were, exquisite little prints, proof absolute that one of my life long desires has been realized.  I live next to a real bear.  It just blew me away.  Then, after we made our way back, we saw a bald eagle flying above us.  Majestic and playful at the same time, he saw us of course and flew around up and behind to get a better look before continuing on the swooping rounds of probable eagle-equivalent grocery shopping. Anyway we felt like we’d been blessed today, with all the beauty and intelligence surrounding us.  Neither one of us felt like changing the batteries in the camera, so these sights will remain in memory only.   But what a fantastic memory it is!

The Mauling Continues

Just to set your anxious minds at rest, Gentle Readers, the Cyber-Mauling continues unabated.  Is Sunday no longer safe, either?  I’m trying to remain calm through it all, all those invitations, bizarre queries, my goodness and! OMG! Someone sent me a PICTURE attached to one query, which with a great application of character, I did not open.  I’m familiar with the appearance of body parts.

Also, we are absolutely back to status quo Otherwise.  My nemesis has revealed itself to be The Common Tile Saw.  In place early this morning grinding away on concrete.  This time it was all in Bellowed English,  from “Senior” as we call him. (Not just the grandfather next door, he’s an almost exact replica of Senior on the motorcycle show.)   This, in combination with a 7:30 a.m. phone call from someone wanting to sell me refrigerator magnets set me up perfectly for my day.  

Therefore, learning that while Cat Stevens can’t get into the country but Mr. Qaddafi can- not only can but owns a palatial spot in NEW JERSEY?  just made me shake my head and emit a croaking, rueful laugh.

Mauled in Cyberspace and Elsewhere

Firstly.  To our alert apparently Moscow-adjacent reader.  No, I do not sell envelopes.  Indeed, since these dismal economic times have been upon us, I make my own, for personal use only.   If envelope has another meaning then perhaps…?  Thank you for reading, anyway.

Today started with The Partner announcing, first thing, that we are “dinosaurs”.  Neither one of us has a Blackberry.  Uh oh, I thought.  I brightened temporarily, wondering if, if I were a dinosaur, would I get to be one of the ones with the spiked tails?  Prudence prevailed and I did not actually ask that question.  So, I went back to  pondering where all this stuff comes from, these envelope sales queries, along with where the money went, and a few other things provoked by random social encounters.  Take today.   The checker at the grocery store looked at me, looked at the several things in glass jars I’d purchased, and said, well you won’t be wanting a bag will you? I sighed deeply and said, YES IWANTAFREAKINGBAG. Thankyouverymuch.  Anyway,  I’ve decided it’s all emanating from, and hidden in,  the Kuyper Belt.  Really.  The Kuyper Belt of ****, if you will.  That’s where it all is.  Circling Neptune.   Chilly willy.  I’ve heard from reliable sources there are no envelopes there, either.

Mysteries of Cyberspace

I noticed I actually had comments today! Whoa! But then they, upon investigation, turned out to be spam gobbledygook.  One was from the Norwich County Council Office, UK, and one from Macau.  I can’t help but wonder what these folks are doing, Gentle Reader.  I EVEN got one of those postcard thingys that are supposed to crash your entire life.  Some fun person in Romania, apparently.  But really?  Just for the record, we’re Mac powered here in House of Boozilla, anyway.  So, neener neener essentially.   Then there’s the endless stream of pornographically tilted messages I get in one of my website mailboxes.  If I have high spam filters, they junk the mail from one of my referring sites, which is not good.  If I have low filters, I get How 2 mk a wooomyn moan every day.  Clearly, people do not have enough to do with their time.  It’s astonishing.  Well, onward.  And, wxcyzzwwwdlbt.com to you, too, out there ruining your eyesight peering into your screen and peppering the world with this whateveryouthinkitis nonsense.   Also? I can already make just about anyone moan. Humph.

Einstein In Daily Practice

I succeeded in converting a Picture Clipping on Mac OS X to a jpg file just now.  This may not seem like much to you, Gentle Reader, but it was the end of quite some time spent in armed struggle for me.  It coincides with a general trend in my thinking of late, which really can be summed up in Einstein’s dictums: A problem cannot be solved at the same level it was created; and: If you do something the same way as before expecting a different result, that is crazy.  More or less.

What does this mean? One, you have to figure out what your question is.  Two, who do you ask about it?  Three, per Sherlock Holmes, whatever is left after removing the things that prove to be erroneous must be the right thing.  Computers are a really good test of all this in a way, because they are totally linear and patriarchal.  Lots of rules.  Lots of ridigity.  In short, My Way Or The Highway.  The key is asking the right question, as always.  In this case, after horsing around with the software I have and asking the wrong question several times, it dawned on me to consult a wider source.  This provided an answer.  I had to go back to square one, review my resources and find some I didn’t know I had, and at last, success.  At least I think so.  I haven’t proceeded to the ultimate banzuke  final implementation of this, which is insertion of said image into my end- of- monthly newsletter.  That’s always fun anyway what with my premier efforts at resizing and things going all out of shape.  Forget thinking of something to actually say.

Anyway.  I have been reviewing my past opinions and feelings and whatnots about my life and the people in it and finally, finally…..finally? I hope, I have made peace with most of the things that disappointed me.  I have forgiven those who trespassed against me  (even though I am keeping my (metaphorical of course) rifle , weapons grade zingers, and grenades.  Just prudent).  It feels better to have all that stuff where it belongs instead of dangling in front of my nose like a rotten carrot, leading me to continually circle the original event, thinking if I just understood it I might….what? Change it? Change myself? Change the dramatis personae?  Some stuff I just don’t have the software, on any drive anywhere, to do.   It really is easier to approach things with one’s mind open.  No judgments, no set idea about What is What.  No concepts of being owed redress.   No (as in the case of the computer) preconceived notions of inevitable failure.  No visions of wreaking vengeance for perceived wrongs.  It is amazing how challenging it is to really be IN the now.  Not in your childhood or last week or some imagined future or at your next appointment or in some dictated mind set.  Just NOW. And just now turns out to be just fine.  Who knew?

So, although the road before me is getting rockier by the moment, it is also getting more spacious, and I think that’s a good thing.  Plus I learned how to convert images to jpg.

The Screaming Doormat

Has come out of retirement again.  In fact, is prominently placed in my “office” where with a flick of the battery switch, I can have random screaming right next to my laptop without the necessity of stepping on the mat.  It’s great! Especially when I’m on the phone with the Evil Empire of Customer Service.  I figure it’s just payback for all that awful music, and dulcet tones of “let me provide you with excellent service”.  Let me hold my breath.  I’ve been a bad, bad dog lately what with all the Customer Service I’ve had to deal with.  I don’t know what you’re asking me, I’ll say.  What is an escalated action on my account?  No, I don’t think my bank “understands me”.   Don’t call me again about the newspaper.  The occasional wretched scream from the doormat adds just the right touch to it all.  It was lots of fun during the Great Email Account Migration on my website, too.  Where they send you the instructions for the New Improved Email…in your email! ha ha! which you can’t get to the way you used to so you can’t read the instructions to find out how to get into the email and…..Ahem.  In the midst of all this the actual internet service I use went totally down.  (See prior entry re Rat’s Nest)  I had to call the ISP. Again.  Then, I got to go to the Office of the ISP and get a new modem (see prior entry re Thingy).  THAT was exciting as the line was very long and one woman was standing right in front of the door so everyone else just squished in behind her.  The fun really began when another person, who was leaning against the door, actually fell outside when yet another person opened it to come in.  Finally, in my masterly way, I said: Hey.  You think you could step up a bit? We’re all pretty squished here.  Ms. Muffin Top Pierced Rathair looked at me as though I had just arrived from Mars.  I stepped in front of her.  So did the other 12 people in line.  When I finally got my turn at the..er…Customer Service Desk, the person waiting on me and I agreed that really, the only sensible response to the whole day, nay the entire week, was to stride right out of there and purchase a bottle of bourbon.  Which I did.  

SO! Then I arrive home where other complications remained to be dealt with.  At 4:30 I thought, WHATEVS, and cracked open the bourbon for a tall one, having ice left over in the garage from the prior weekend’s birthday party for a friend.  Then, having got the new modem (viz: thingy) attached to all the many cords and etceteras it required, I turned on the laptop, got the good to go signal, and then! Got the by now familiar, you are not connected to the internet signal.  Then, got a popup notice to download the, yes, “Download Wizard”. Except I couldn’t download the Download Wizard because, first go round, I wasn’t connected to the internet.  Second go round, the website couldn’t be found, apparently didn’t exist.  I kid you not.  OK, I’ve got the bourbon, I can handle this,I thought.  Perhaps the cable needs to be directly in the laptop and not in my airport connector.  Did that.  NOTHING.  Before when directly connected to the modem the laptop would work. Now, not.  So, after reconnecting to airport and again getting the Big Finger, I roared loudly.  I jumped up and down on the mat.  I hoped my next door neighbor wasn’t home.  I got another bourbon.  I reattached everything, pretending to be the Cesar Millan of laptops.  You know, firm? confident? packleader?  Finished the bourbon, got ready to call the ISP again (they had, mercifully not said the fatal words: you won’t have any problem with it.  No, they said we’ll walk you through it.) and at long last, voila, the Download Wizard downloaded.  One test yet remained.  Apparently my system requires a password.  Ha Ha, I thought, I know this one.  Before, it also required a password, which was shown in those dots BUT there was a box below that said “show password”.  Groovy.  So I used the password that had been shown before and guess what?????? It wasn’t the right password.

On to another bourbon.  More jumping on mat and roaring.  Hell’s bells I thought.  So I tried my universal solvent password and God probably got tired just about then of twiddling me around, and it worked.  So here I am again, ready to regale you, Gentle Reader, with whatever this is.  On Blogger, on Vixen…..

The Barking Shoulder

Baseball language.  You gotta love it.  Today’s game featured a description of a player whose shoulder had been “barking” at him last year, graveling his performance.   It also sounds like the name of a …pub? a bar? a bakery? or a bodywork office? (n.b., hands on bodywork.  I once made a Very Serious Tattooed & Hairnetted Guy laugh til he got hiccups because I asked him what he did, he said “bodywork”, and I said, O! I do too! Of course we looked at each other like ARE YOU CRAZY? and then it was revealed that he did Awesome Bondo with Awesome Painting and he had no idea what I did but said it sounded like a good idea.)  Anyway, a barking shoulder is something to be listened to, Gentle Reader.

Meanwhile, just a brief entry on all the Fun we’ve been having lately.   After doing an apparently intense bunch of divining and mixing of products, I found that literally everything I touched gave me a shock.  Everything.  Pencils.  Paper.  Bath towels.  Car door? Holy cow.  It was audible too: I was in the grocery store parking lot trying to get into my car without curling my hair, there was the inevitable “ZZZZZZZZZTTTTT” and the man getting out of his car next to me said: What the H. was THAT?  Oh, I said, nothing, then mistakenly touching an earring and producing another such noise, plus, this time, an OW.  Today is the first day for several days where I have been shock free, and it is very nice.

Otherwise, we’re still pondering the incredible absence of customer service.  I thought I needed to get my computer modem/router/thingy re-somethinged because my internet wasn’t working. At all.  Compressing an hour and some change on the phone into but a few seconds?  The people I get my internet from couldn’t help me, of course, because I “own” this …thing.  It’s YOUR modem?, they said, in hushed tones dripping with horror.  Oh, dear.  We really can’t help you.  You have to call the maker of the modem, here’s the number.  Of course the fact that the number I got was for some effing ESCORT SERVICE is beside the point.  I can look things up as well as the next person.  However, after getting the right number, the fun really began and I will name names here, friends.  Linksys has people with the reasoning ability of burlap bags on some of the phone lines for their customer service.   That (whatever it is) couldn’t possibly do [x], this Customer Service Rep said.  Oh? I said.  Then why has it been doing just that for the past 18 months?  The guy at [ISP] said the numbers for [whatever it was] probably got disturbed in a power surge and need to be reset to work with my system.  (I swear! I didn’t touch it during my own Electrical Problem.) Well, it can’t have been doing it, was the response.  You must be getting your service off another [something or other].  How many computers do you have at your location? Etc.  Finally when I could take it no longer and said, look, here is the situation, this is what ISP said, can you or can you not help me?  He referred me to a website, where, he assured me, I could find out more about my modem/router/whatever.  Of course it had a serial number he couldn’t comprehend but I expected THAT.  That always happens.  Anyway, the website, delightfully, was like a modem shopping mall.  This was after I had gone through gyrations to even GET on line..etc.  End of story? The Partner wandered in and with a minimum of waving me off, cross words (him.  Imagine calling a bunch of cords a RAT’S NEST!)  and shouting (me. sigh.) fixed the entire thing.  See how easy.

Which leads me, in conclusion, to a reminder from the Partner.  He reads my blog, just to make sure…you know…and he read the birthday one.  Dude, he said, that’s pretty deep for a birthday!  You didn’t even mention your cake! You should’ve said we were eating cake!  He’s right.  I actually meant to take a picture of the cake but it got eaten before I pulled myself together.  We did eat it, it was delicious, we had a great time, and I gave the last piece to my client in the Nursing Facility.  He pronounced it a masterpiece.  All’s well that ends well.