*If it takes 20 minutes to drive from my house to my destination during a time when there is virtually no traffic and all green lights, I will leave to reach this destination at EXACTLY 20 minutes before I'm due there even if it's 5:00 and I know that every light is going to be red. And then I will be truly surprised when I am 15 minutes late.
*Whatever temperature it is at my house is the same temperature at the place I'm going to. This is not affected by altitude, differing weather patterns, latitude, or air conditioning. If it's 82 degrees at my house, it will be 82 degrees there, and I will dress for that, damn it.
*If I go into a yarn store "just to look around," I will follow my own self-imposed governor and actually leave empty-handed rather than spend $30.00 on pretty yarn that I have no pattern in mind for.
*If I spend six days at my mother's house to help her get connected to the internet, by gawd, SHE WILL BE CONNECTED TO THE INTERNET by the time I leave no matter what influencing factors exist, such as other people's schedules and my own lethargy.
And it is for these reasons that I am constantly disappointed. Because the truth is that these delusions add an element of anxiety to what I was expecting to be a pretty laid-back life. And the worst part is, if I would just take one little step into reality and adjust my expectations accordingly, I probably wouldn't have this small knot of worry squirming around in my belly when I'm speeding to get to my appointment or freezing my tuckus off at the dentist's office or figuring out where I'm going to put the 82 skeins of new yarn that I just bought.
Or wondering why it is that my mother does not have internet yet.
That's right--I said it.
She doesn't have internet yet, even though I was hellbent on being victorious over that Demon of Dial-up, that Monster of Inert Technology. Definite steps were made toward that goal, though, such as finding out for absolute sure that her computer's modem was the victim of some long ago power surge or lightning strike or something else electrical. And so poof! It is gone. Also, we know that the existing computer will be just fine for internet looking once a little memory is added. And--perhaps most importantly--we discovered that wireless internet IS available in her remote area. At least we think so. There's a man who needs to climb into my mama's attic who will have the final word on that. So a few steps were left untaken, but I trust implicitly in my mother's motivation to get herself hooked up and communicating to take her the rest of the way. There's porn out there, after all!*
So you can all put away your party hats and noisemakers and virtual welcome mats and hearty glasses of Sauvignon Blanc, because she is not quite here yet. But she will be soon. And we'll all be waiting for her. With party hats. And porn.
*My mother doesn't look at porn, for heaven's sakes! Shame on you. Get your minds out of the gutter.
15 comments:
Darn. Not that I NEED yet another occasion to pop the cork on a Sauv-Blanc, but I was so hoping The Queen would be able to sooner rather than later extend her dominion over the Innernets. Keep us informed, will ya?
George Noblett is pulling on his goin'-up-into-the-attic boots even now. George Noblett knows about malware-choked computers. George Noblett will fix things, and things will be glad he did.
FOTHF LOL! lawsey mercy, you are one funny fictionneer! I understand every one of those adorable pecadillos.
And I'm delighted that your Mum has a *man-in-the-attic*--especially since she would never even utter the word "porn".
Moi: Well, see, here's the glass-is-half-full view of things: we open one bottle of wine in celebration of the fact that the modem problem has been diagnosed; another for the fact that she doesn't absolutely HAVE to buy a new computer now; and the third to toast the advent of wireless internet. So see? Now we're drunk and happy! Oh, and by the by, you'll *know* when she's online; you'll know because of the sudden surge of porn-related e-mails in your mailbox. Yeah, she's like that.
aj: George Noblett is the man of my fantasies. My *secret* computer fantasies. And now he's available for yours, too! George is Everyman. Let's haiku about him:
George Noblett, fixin'
mom's computer by climbing
in her attic. Eh?
Naughty boy, you said
"climbing in attic" wasn't
a euphemism.
DR: The good news is, hey, thanks! The bad? It's all real, baby. No fiction a'tall.
aj: I recommend upgrading you're trailer to the Tarleton. One hundred and seventeen square feet of pure LOVIN', man!
...I really, really hope that the man who will be climbing into the attic isn't me.
Because I don't want to climb into an attic. Although I wouldn't be opposed to it if it meant defeating another monster of technical badness.
...And whatnot, etcetera, etcetera.
...Also, since I'm in a text area typing things, I think I shall plug YouCannotSueUs.com
The latest 4 videos are... definitely the best things you will see all week. Now, my amazingly jaunty aunt of dauntless jauntiness, make sure to include that link at some point in the future.
Because, for Pete's sake, I went to the trouble of spending 5 minutes coming up with a good rhymey nickname! If nothing else, it's gotta be worth a jaunty see shanty!
...Robert F the Third Viking of the Dinopocolypse
HUH???
I'm with Auntie M on Trelantana. Is this One of Your People finally gone all the way around the bend or just a very clever interloping facsimile thereof?
Oh, yeah, he's authentic, all right. The Mighty Trelanta, AKA TriBob, son of--who else?--AJ. And the third in three generations of tinkerers. Trelantana puts the "R" in "RZ Studios" and the "turkey" in "turkey & giblets." He's ours. And he ain't right.
> ==========================
> And the third in three generations of tinkerers.
> ==========================
lest we forget, the original Grandaddy hisself was a railroad man (implies tinkerin' genes)...who begat a son what had a love of blowing things up, who in turn begat (insert aj here) who in turn spawned a totally authentic Trelantana/TriBob.
history will judge me; but the attic waits for trelanta.
.. ghost of Grandfather
.. waits patiently in attic
.. with advice for Tre
2) and trelantana has by no means gone around the bend. he's just getting started.
3) oh yeah, the Tarleton! OMG yes! lovin' is *exactly* what i thought of on seeing that one.
4) youcannotsueus.com *is* the logical place to go after one has gone through all the comments for this post. ahuhuhuh, you said "logical".
george noblett: a man
who slaps errant computers
into submission
i slap computers
timely into submission
with my hat of soup.
no new blog entry for 2 weeks because:
wicked has gone to the beach house early, where she now hides in wait for trelantana's arrival, in order to surprise him and pummel his silly Hat Of Soupness with her *own* Big Ass Danger Gourd Of Goodness.
yeah, whistle sucks on the follow through. you'd think all this time off would result in something productive getting done, wouldn't cha?
BWAAAAAAA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!
i'm still in my pajamas.
yeah, i've been at the beach house for days now in my head, cooking up tasty vegetarian morsels for zak; i'm putting them on the front porch today so they'll be juuuust right for him when y'all get there on friday.
things also being done in my head: excellent and highly successful novel-writing; cool home makeovering; long hiking; cooking skill-learning; etc.
up side: new blog comin' today!
down side: it's about knitting. YESSSSS!!
yeah, i thought you'd be lurking back there.
this year: andy knits up sum trouble.
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