Thursday, April 30, 2009

Spring Cleaning (Or, What's WRONG With Me?)

As those who know me, even a little, know well, I'm not much of a girl for housecleaning. It bores me more than just a little. It's exhausting, painful, and -- since we live in the dustiest city this side of Calcutta -- fruitless. A continuous loop of 'lift, clean, set down, lift, clean, set down'. We also have three dogs and two cats and they're anti the idea of keeping the house neat and tidy.

Oh sure, the house is cleaner than I probably make it sound, for which, 99% of the time, the kudos go to my husband. But not this week.

No, this week, I've been doing the cleaning. And I have only one thing to say: God alone knows why.

Wait. Two things: Please, God, somebody stop me!

For reasons I still can't comprehend but am blaming on Spring (as if we even have Spring here -- it's more like three weeks where it's not really cold and not horrifyingly hot) I got the urge to clean. And not just any clean. No, really clean. Clean clean.

I have a bad back, and so this kind of cleaning is not to be undertaken lightly. Or all at once. Or it's extra quality time with the chiropractor. So, I've been working through, room by room. But not all parts of the rooms. Just the lower parts.

You read that right. From about knee height down, my house is sparkling. Higher than that? Well, it's...about the same as it always is.

I have no idea why I care so much about the floors and the baseboards and the corners and all. I just do. If I were pregnant (which, thankfully, I am not), I'd say I was 'nesting'. If we had company coming, I'd say it was to impress them. But our company left already and she was nice and we didn't have to impress her. Nor, let me stress, was her presence the reason for the cleaning season. She left the guestroom a lot neater than when she arrived. (Someone has to be neat around here. Sure, it was a visitor, but that counts, right?) I haven't killed anyone, so I'm not having a Lizzie Borden or Lady Macbeth complex of any kind (look it up), nor am I trying to get rid of evidence.

No, there's no obvious reason for this -- I can call it nothing else -- cleaning frenzy. It's just there. Telling me that, as soon as the floors of the remaining rooms are done, we're going to work on the walls. And then, perhaps, the ceilings. And then, if I'm not dead -- we'll start straightening things, finding a place for everything and putting everything in its place. So that this will be the best Spring Cleaning EVER in the HISTORY OF THE WORLD. Or at least the history of me.

Summer cannot get here fast enough.


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Saturday, April 11, 2009

Dangers of the Interwebs

I'm experiencing technical difficulties.

I got a new phone and have to move my address book and calendar from the old system to the new one. Suffice to say, this is never as easy as the manuals make it sound. But, no worries, I was able to (somewhat) move things from the old system to Yahoo, and then from Yahoo to the new system.

Sure, I had to do a lot manually, but not nearly as much as every other option was providing. So, it was the right choice. I hope.

At first, all seemed well. I was able to move my (huge) address book into my new phone (and there was much rejoicing). I was able to move the calendar, too (even more rejoicing). All was swell.

And then I tried to sync back. (And there was much gnashing of teeth and rending of hair and garments.)

Good freaking lord, is all I have to say.

First off, and this will surprise exactly no one, I'm sure, the website help sent me to live support and live support...wait for it...was exactly no help at all! Yes, it was, as always, the No Help Desk.

I tried to get to Level 3 Support, but the guy on the Level 1 Support wasn't having any of it. I'm sure he believes he's truly Level 3 quality and the boss just sells him short. (Trust me, the boss is right.) Basically, the first thing they always want to do is wipe your entire device or system, to start from scratch, and, after 15 minutes of my explaining and re-explaining the situation, my tech guy didn't stray from that standard game plan. Isn't that keen. It means that all you have you likely lose, and being an old hand at technological problems, I personally know there's always other options to try first.

So, I tried them. A lot. Bottom line, after 8 hours (this was my full time job yesterday), is that something's corrupted somewhere in the address book, probably on the Yahoo side, and I have no freaking idea of where or why, because it wasn't corrupted until I tried to send from the device side. I have no one to talk to about it, either, since Mr. Tech Level 1 was supposed to call me back and never did. Not that I was exactly pining for his call. We didn't click on that first date and I'm not hoping for another. Nice to know he feels the same.

Again surprising no one, the phone people's websites say it's software and the software people's websites say it's the phone or the phone's software and ne'er the two shall meet nor help. So, I'm syncing everything else and calling it good for a while.

Adding insult to injury, this process somehow wiped half of my Yahoo Buddy list. Now, as is well known, I live for instant messaging. I've been doing it since the first ones sprouted lo these many moons ago. And now half of my list is gone.

Wasn't too bad to figure out most of who I lost, though it's harder when you can't remember someone's clever screen name. (Note to clever screen name friends: If you didn't get an add notice from me, send me an IM, just to be safe. Or, you know, go hang with Mr. Tech Level 1 and diss me.) However, I remember my mom's. And so I sent her an add request pronto. Which she refused.

Why? Because she was afraid someone had stolen my identity and, as part of their nefarious takeover plan, they were going to try to get her to add them, disguised as me, onto her Buddy list and then infiltrate her computer and then, clearly, the world. This is a woman networked to absolutely no one, computer-wise, but she was sure this was the next Nigerian email scam. Hey, now you know where the writer's imagination comes from.

I've straightened her out, and all is well. At least until the next time I try to use my phone. And if you send me a mere $50,000 when you add me onto your Buddy list, I will, in return, ensure that you receive $100,000,000 from this account that's sitting here in my computer, needing a trustworthy soul such as yourself to claim it.

I am most sincerely and trustworthily yours,

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