GRAB(ook) club and Measure of Love

My first online book club!  I really enjoyed Measure of Love.  It was both a light read and a book that made me think about the characters beyond the bounds of the story.  I related to some of Rachel's issues, while at the same time she was annoying me with her dithering.  I'm looking forward to reading Arianna's story in the next book.

Now, I have to think of a question about the book...hmmm...well, how about some creative interpretation/write your own addendum to the story:

Adam is sort of a minor character in the story. We don't get to see many of his reactions, but he seems fairly perceptive (at least at this stage of the game).  While Rachel was going through all of her issues, how do you think he was processing all of her insecurities and assumptions?  I mean, they had to be somewhat evident, right?  Was he suffering his own doubts, or was he just oblivious?

After you answer my question, please click over to read the rest of the book club questions for Measure of Love (http://www.stirrup-queens.com/2013/06/grabook-club-discusses-measure-of-love/).  You can get your own copy of Measure of Love by Melissa Ford at bookstores including Amazon (http://www.amazon.com/Measure-of-Love-ebook/dp/B00C7Y1Y8E/).


And if you read it, don't forget to leave a review!

Trying to do my part

It's National Infertility Awareness Week.  I've never really fit into the Infertility Crowd (except, of course, age-related secondary infertility...fertilization is easy!  Creating viable embryos and housing them properly is beyond my capabilities.  Except for that one time.).  So, my efforts to do something for NIAW will have to be unconventional also.

I was reading an article about an interview with Michael Pollan - I'm sure everyone but me has read his books on our food culture.  If you haven't, you probably should - all my friends seem to be big fans.  Anyway, as I read his interview responses, one sentence struck me and I couldn't let it go.  Normally, I'm pretty good about flushing the stuff I read on the internet pretty quickly, but this one sentence inspired me to find some contact information for Michael Pollan, so I could send him a little piece of my mind.  Here's what I wrote through the FB messaging system:

Mr. Pollan,
I just read an excerpt of your interview from Lucky Peach Magazine in The Daily Beast, and a part of it struck me. I'm sure it was a somewhat off the cuff remark, but it's definitely a trigger for many people. Perhaps you are unaware of the so-called Mommy Wars, in which women who do not or cannot breastfeed are made to feel inadequate. You have given ammunition for those kinds of attacks with this remark:

"But we still can’t make formula as good as breast milk. There’s still that mystery X-factor because babies raised on formula simply don’t do as well... It’s human arrogance to think we can outwit nature."

As someone who has a nephew who was failing to thrive because my sister couldn't produce enough breastmilk, and whose own daughter required supplementation with formula, I object to your assertion that babies raised on formula simply don't do as well. To me, alive and thriving is better than dead from starvation. While I agree that breastfeeding is the best option, it should not be implied that it should be the only option. Formula is a life-saver (quite literally) for many children.

Based on your words, I suspect you have not had a great deal of exposure to women who have had trouble breastfeeding. I'm sure, as an author, you know the value of choosing your words carefully. So, this is simply an attempt to let you know that this might not be an example that you want to use in the future. Certainly, formula cannot match the benefits of breastmilk, but since, for some, it's the only option, it would be better to measure your words on this topic.

Very Respectfully,

Are You Kidding Me? (I actually used my real name since it was through FB anyway, but this would have been a more amusing close.)
 
P.S. I found the rest of the article quite interesting, and look forward to reading your books - several friends have recommended them.

So while I don't have anything useful to say about infertility, I have tried to do my part to raise awareness of at least one women's issue.  If you have a hard time making a child, the last thing anyone should do is make you feel badly about feeding that child if you have the good fortune to get it here.

It's looking a little dusty around here

My poor, neglected blog...sigh.  It's been a while.

This morning, as I was taking my pre-dawn walk around the neighborhood, I was thinking about the state of medical care in this country.  I have a primary care physician, but I almost never see him.  There are two reasons for this: 1) I am rarely sick.  2) I find him to be generally useless.  I think I find him useless because he has completely bought in to the idea that patients just want a pill to make them all better.  As I was walking this morning, what occurred to me was that it's not so much patients who want a pill to make things better as it is doctors who want the patients to go away.  And they won't go away until they feel at least somewhat better about whatever is ailing them.

I've seen my primary care physician for 3 things.  First, shortly after my daughter was born, I had pain in my hand, wrist, and elbow.  He diagnosed me with De Quervain syndrome, gave me a splint, prescribed ice and ibuprofen, and said it would probably go away eventually.  Second, I went to see him because I thought I had an ear infection.  As it turns out, I injured my ear, probably with a Q-tip.  I got some ear drops for that, and the advice to stop sticking Q-tips in my ears.  How am I supposed to scratch my brain if I can't put a Q-tip in my ears???  (I think anyone who has seasonal allergies will understand what I mean by that.)  Finally, I was in a car accident and I saw the doctor for my whiplash.  It was at that point he started treating me like I was a drug-seeking hypochondriac.  I think I should have told him straight out that I was looking for a physical therapy recommendation, so he could have skipped the ibuprofen and ice routine. 

In contrast to that jerk, I recently saw a surgeon to get my umbilical hernia repaired.  Of course, it was an entirely different sort of situation, since my problem was clear, as was the solution.  But when I asked how long I should take off of work, and what the recovery would be like, the doctor was all sorts of optimistic.  I wouldn't need much more than a weekend and a couple days.  I would be done using the pain medication quickly.  I would be moving around moderately freely shortly after surgery.  I should take it easy, but I wouldn't be an invalid.

After surgery, the hospital gave me 2 doses of pain medication within an hour or so - probably enough to get me dressed and into my car.  They also brought my prescriptions to my bedside - I highly recommend that service!  I went home with 30 painkillers - enough to take the max dosage for about 6 days.  But my doctor told me I'd be done in 2 or 3 days.  So, by day 3, I was done with the painkillers.  I don't like opioids anyway, but I did feel much better.  I had surgery on Tuesday.  I took my daughter to story time at the library on Saturday (there would have been hell to pay if I hadn't - the kid loves the library).  I did a little shopping on Monday (I don't work Mondays anyway), and felt like I overdid it, so I took the following Tuesday off too.  By Wednesday, I was back at work - not doing much more than taking up space, but back at work nonetheless.

The next Tuesday, I had my follow-up visit with the surgeon.  One of his first questions was "So, are you back to work yet?"  Of course!  You told me I wouldn't need more than 4-5 days at home!  It was about that time that I realized that he had made every effort to set me up for a quick and successful recovery.  He told me it wouldn't hurt too much after a few days.  He said I'd be capable of working inside a week.  He told me most people stopped the painkillers after 3 days.  I think it was a concerted effort to create a mindset that would facilitate a more easy recovery.

Contrasting that with my primary care physician, I can only determine that it's kind of a matter of trust.  My primary care physicians trusts only that I will come and complain and want him to immediately fix things.  My surgeon trusted that I would listen to his advice and make the best recovery possible.  If I had problems, they wouldn't be due to having a bad attitude - there would be an actual complication to deal with.  My primary care physician believes that I am not well-informed, nor am I a partner in my health care.  Maybe it's because I never get physicals.  Maybe it's because I refuse to  have my pap smear done there (I have the most awesome OB/GYN ever.  How do I know?  Because he actually read my chart.).  Maybe he's just a paternalistic dickhead who doesn't believe that there are any reasonably smart people within the area he serves. 

I don't pretend to know as much about healthcare as someone who went to med school and has been practicing for a number of years.  But I'm not an idiot either.  I know many doctors are wary of treating patients like partners, because patients are so often ill-informed.  But it can be done in a subtle and reasonable way - my surgeon's method shows that.  I can only hope that more medical offices and hospitals are following that sort of protocol.  An informed patient with realistic expectations is more likely to feel satisfied with their care, regardless of the outcome.

Privacy, please

The other day, I was perusing items in my Google Reader, when, suddenly, items would no longer load.  So, I went to Gmail to see if there was a problem with Google.  Instead of being able to log in, I was directed to another page.  On that page, they notified me that my account had been locked due to suspicious activity.  They noted that, usually, suspicious activity consisted of some sort of Terms of Service violation.  I'm not sure how I violated Terms of Service by clicking on a blog link to like something on Facebook, but that's another story.  Then they requested my phone number so they could give me a call or send me a text to unlock my account.  Now, I don't know if you've noticed, but Google frequently requests your phone number in order to be able to contact you if you've forgotten your password or if there's a problem with your account.  I always refuse.  I'm sure they are aware that I access my Gmail and Google Reader and Google Maps on my phone, so I'm sure that they already have my phone number.  But I haven't given them permission to use it for anything, so they can't do anything with that information.  Because I am suspicious by nature, and I enjoy making up completely ridiculous yet believable conspiracy theories, I assume that the account lockdown was just a ploy to get me to give up my phone number.

I prefer to communicate by email, so I sent one complaint and 2 requests to unlock my account.  It took Google approximately 43 hours to complete the task. [Mel actually noticed that there was a problem - that surprises me.  I am so anti-social sometimes that I used to think I could disappear for more than a week before anyone noticed. (Now I have an almost 6 year old little cling-on, so that wouldn't happen).]  Apparently, had I been willing to give up my phone number, I would have received faster service.  But, as I told Google, if I had to give up my Reader and Gmail...well, I'd have a lot more time on my hands for other things like reading and knitting. 

I don't know why I find it so irritating that everyone asks for my phone number.  Maybe it's because I hate talking on the phone.  Maybe it's because I have a constant stream of voice mail messages from the school district now that my girl has started kindergarten.  Maybe it's because I find the phone so intrusive.  Maybe it's because when I answer my work phone, it generally turns out to be bad news.  Maybe it's because I don't have a landline, so every incoming call has an associated cost.  (I am pretty cheap, after all.)

More likely, though, it's because I know that every company is trying to accumulate data on me in order to market to me more effectively.  I was stunned last night when, after watching Bill Clinton's speech at the Democratic National Convention and commenting about it on Facebook, Clinton and Obama ads immediately popped up in my sidebar.  It is beginning to make me slightly uncomfortable to watch that tracking happen.  So, Google, no thank you.  I will not give you my phone number.  It's one of the few pieces of information over which I have a bit of control, and I'm keeping that control. 

(I will, however, be exporting my address book, so that if I do get kicked off Google again, I will be able to send out a message to let people know that I haven't disappeared into thin air.)

Siblings

St. Elsewhere and I were emailing about siblings and when my response got long and involved, it occurred to me that maybe I had a blogging topic for a change!

My daughter LOVES to ask for a brother or sister.  She used to do it daily, but has slowed down to once or twice a week lately.  Today she was playing with her cousin, and there was much yelling.  I told her that now she knew what it would be like to have a brother.  My mother suggested that I adopt an older brother for her...

My mother is the queen of family planning.  Her philosophy was that each child should have a companion, and so she has two sets of children.  My two oldest sisters are a year apart.  My next oldest sister and I are a year apart.  There are 6 years between the sets.  My grandfather referred to all of us as Pete and Repeat (or Re-Pete, if you will).

It's nice that my mother was able to have a plan and execute it.  Even for her, though, it didn't exactly work out as she intended.  I think she actually wanted to maybe stop at 2...but then 2nd oldest sister started asking for a little sister.  She didn't want to be the baby any more.  Then 3rd oldest sister came along...and 2nd decided that life had been pretty good before 3rd turned up and she would like to go back to that.  44 years later, I believe that's still her philosophy.

The other downsides to my mother's plan are mostly relevant to me.  First, 3rd and I are sometimes still referred to as "the babies."   That's a little annoying when you get to be 20-something and downright absurd when you're in your 40s.  Second, my name was chosen by 1st sister.  2nd and 3rd share the same first initial, and she felt left out.  So, while my mother was in the hospital having me, 1st, 2nd, and 3rd were at my aunt's house.  1st sent my parents a letter with a list of name selections all starting with A, so things would be even.  I'm not a huge fan of my name - I don't really feel like it fits me well.  Everyone else I meet who shares my name is pretty perky and bubbly.  I tend more towards awkward and sarcastic. But I have a story behind my name.  I suppose that's something.

Finally, and most importantly, my companion and I do not get along.  Things were fine until 3rd went to school.  In my opinion, she abandoned me in her quest to fit in with the other kids - her younger sister who had been her best friend suddenly became a major annoyance.  Unfortunately, due to her personality and probably some mental illness, she never quite fit in...and, after multiple betrayals (that stick with me even though they happened when I was 8 years old!), I was not willing to take her into my circle of friends.  We had some knock-down, drag-out physical fights...up until we were well into our 20s.  Now that she lives 1000 miles away and we see each other every other year or so, we get along just fine.  But as companions, it did not work at all. 

In some ways, I feel badly that my daughter will be an only child.  Having a sister has its moments.  But here are the things I know that make me comfortable with what is:

1)  My daughter does like children younger than her...until they can talk back.  Then, not so much.
2)  I'm too old and tired to keep trying, and the added stress would be detrimental to the rest of my life.
3)  When I die, there will be no one to fight with over my stuff...and she will be able to save it or throw it away without having to consult with anyone else.
4)  You never really know what you're going to get.
5)  I'm lucky to be where I am.

First Captcha, now Wordpress

It would appear that there is a giant conspiracy on the internet these days.  First, it was the infamous Captcha, which annoys commenters everywhere.  Speaking of which, why do those letters have to be all squished and stretched, anyway?  Is there some sort of spambot reading machine that can read the letters if you don't skew them?  NOBODY can read them and we can't all be robots...

And now wordpress tells me that there is a wordpress account associated with my email address.  Yes, I know.  But, wordpress, you never let me log in to that account.  You tell me the username is bad.  You tell me the password is incorrect.  And never before has it prevented me from leaving a comment.

I'm seeing a trend...the internet does not want anyone leaving comments anymore!

Everything evens out eventually...

After that nonsense from last week, a fellow alumnus from my high school helped my mood with this:

I feel better now.

Suddenly I see

Normally, I don't get too excited about what happens on the internet.  But today, either I am extremely irritable (most likely) or the internet is losing its luster.  I saw two posts on Facebook today that almost spurred me to making some really obnoxious comments.  First, there was this from a random relative of my husband's:

"Today someone got a life changing phone call that they have a terminal illness. Today a hero's famliy was notified that their soldier made the ultimate sacrifice. Today a lot of people will hear horrible news, so lets be reminded, we DO NOT have the right to complain about our life or our crummy day. Things are far worse for many. So stop complaining, we have it good. These "bad" days for us, others would die to have."

Um, yeah.  Right now, I'm not terribly pleased with my in-laws anyway.  This little blurb almost made me want to respond that I hope she never has a bad thing happen to her, because my response will be "well, you don't have a terminal illness" or if she does, it will be "well, you didn't make the ultimate sacrifice" followed by "quit your bitchin'."  Really?  Yes, perspective is good.  But we all have the right to complain, because venting is a useful stress reliever.  If you don't want to listen, then get some friends who don't whine about every little twinge or slight misfortune.

The second one came from a friend's stepbrother, and is political.  Now, I belong to a political discussion group on Facebook, and sometimes people say some really outrageously biased stuff.  I don't really know the people in the discussion group - except for a couple people from my high school - so I don't take it personally.  But I grew up with my friend, her sister, and her stepbrother.  We came from a middle class neighborhood in a city full of liberals.  So, I find it incredibly confusing that for some reason they all became raging conservatives.  I feel that middle class Americans who espouse the so-called conservative point of view are acting in direct contrast to their own best interests.  But, whatever.  Everyone's entitled to their beliefs, and I agree that smaller government is good.  I don't want to restrict gun ownership either.  The bad guys always find guns if they want them - the rest of us might as well have the same access.  However, when you share information that is patently untrue, it irks me.

Hate to tell you, Mr. Conservative Obama Hater, but Obama really has no control over the gas prices.  It's the market that controls the gas prices.  Pick on the speculators, instead of the legislators.  Also, maybe I should hook you up with the aforementioned relative - you oughta stop whining about gas prices, as prices in Europe have been in excess of $5/gallon for over 15 years. 

Yep, I'm probably just irritable.  Or maybe it's time to take a break and become a Luddite for a while.  Maybe I should reinstate the baked goods and candy that I gave up for Lent and turn off the computer instead.

Free Advice Day

Mel suggested that the best way to protest the SOPA/PIPA bills would be to show Congress what they might be missing if they passed those bills.

Here's my free advice, worth more than you're paying for it:

Bad things happen frequently on Thursdays. Prepare yourself.

When you say what you mean, in a clear and direct manner, you are less likely to make people angry.

When you agree to something to avoid confrontation, and then get other people to protest what you agreed to, you're going to get confrontation anyway. (Related: Don't promise something if you're not already planning it out in your head. Disappointment and unrealized expectations are the quickest route to anger.)

General contractors are generally untrustworthy.

Censorship is a bad idea. There are better ways to protect your original content.

But really...is there anything original anymore? Do you have the right to an idea that you essentially ripped right out of Shakespeare? Sorry, not advice...just a question.

Since all of that is more of an indication of my frame of mind, rather than advice, I will share the following. It's fantastic, and actual good, beneficial, useful information.



And finally, for your entertainment, some of the web's best protest content can be found here (Oops - just noticed there's a pregnancy reference in there. Fair warning.)

Oh, one more thing. If you're having trouble accessing Blogger blogs...try a different browser. Several sites won't respond in Internet Explorer - but they're fine in Google Chrome. Coincidence? I think not.

All right, enough of this depressing shit...

Look at me! 3 posts in a month! Apparently, all I require for more posting is...oh, never mind.

For your viewing pleasure: the singed trees that my husband created with his unusual spring clean up methods

2/3 of a tree - it used to look like the ones on the left



I grew these two trees from little sticks



What? You don't see a second tree? Look by the blue bird.

Here's what's left



Trees are very resilient...

2012 is NOT starting off well...

Maybe it can only improve from here. My FIL died last month. So far this month, my husband's grandmother (his father's mother) died, and yesterday, my aunt died. For all of them, I would considered it a blessing, but still...

I hope I've completed my death trifecta and we're done for the year (or longer!).

In other news, my husband has returned to work (out of state, of course) and I am quite displeased with his family.

I'm taking the week off of work. Maybe that will help.

Failed...

Only one post last month...I guess I was lacking inspiration However, today, when following links from Stephanie, I came across the story of a staff Christmas party gone awry. This inspired me to recount some of my favorite fire stories. Sorry I can't illustrate them...

Once upon a time, I went to college in Colorado. A group of us loaded up into three cars one night to take a ride up into the mountains. We made it to the foothills, where we went off the road a bit and lit a fire. It was a beautiful night, we were having a great time drinking our 3.2 beer (it was legal for 18 year olds to drink 3.2 beer and wine coolers! So we did!) around the fire. After a while, we noticed some flashing lights coming up the mountain road. They kept getting closer, so, like any rational 18 year olds (HA!), we poured our beer on the fire and took off into the trees. We stayed out there for a period of time, until the firemen got on the loudspeaker and asked for the owners of the cars to please come up to the road. We determined that they were not going to leave, so we sheepishly made our way back up to the road. Since we were mostly a bunch of urban kids from the much more humid East and Midwest, we were idiots who knew nothing about fires and forest fires and dryness ratings. The firemen lectured us for about 20 minutes regarding fires and forest fires and dryness ratings and how would we like to pay the $5000 it cost for them to come up from the bottom of the mountain to deal with our idiocy? We would not like it. They ended up giving a $50 ticket to each of the cars, and we pooled our money to pay for it. All the people on my floor at school were big fans of the
Grateful Dead, but Fire on the Mountain has special meaning for a few of us...



Shortly thereafter, it was the fall break, where we got a 3 day weekend. That was as good an excuse as any for a road trip, so we decided to drive the 1000 miles from Denver to Chicago. My roommate, our next door neighbor, our RA, and I drove to my house and surprised my mother. It was a surprise all around because they hadn't told me that my father was in the hospital again. (He had heart disease and Rheumatoid Arthritis - he was in and out of the hospital quite a bit through my teenage years). Here's a tip - do not try to spare the feelings and worry of your out-of-state family member by not telling them about someone's illness. It will just make them angry. Anyway, while we were there, my RA took us to a Greek restaurant in Lincoln Park. Because my RA was Greek, she knew the owners, and we were therefore treated to some shots of flaming Ouzo. In case you're unfamiliar, Ouzo is a licorice-flavored, gut-burning liquor that produces a lovely blue flame when lit. The typical response to a shotglass of flaming Ouzo is to clink your glass, blow out your flame, and down that baby. Instead, the next door neighbor knocked her shotglass over and set the tablecloth on fire. It was a beautiful sight - pristine white tablecloth with perfect blue flames...

However, my favorite fire story was several years later. I think I was in my late 20s. My second oldest sister was home for Christmas, and we accompanied my mother to Christmas Eve Mass. The church had extra decorations in place and it was pretty full. As we sat there watching the people line up in the aisle to go up for Communion, my sister and I were doing our most dramatic renditions of the Christmas carols that were playing. Now, as it is, I'm not very well-behaved in church. It's probably pretty amusing to sit next to me, but you might not get a whole lot of spirituality. So, I do a lot of people watching in order to fuel my conversational topics. As I was watching the lines of people going up to communion, I noticed a woman in one of those parkas with the faux fur lined hood standing in front of us. She moved up a little and was standing next to a large candle. Since this was the first of the Christmas masses, the candle was much higher than the glass protector that would make it safer for the next several masses. They should have cut the candle, or burned it down a little, because as the woman moved back a little to let someone out of the pew, her faux fur lined hood went directly into the candle flame and lit up (like a Christmas tree - haha). Fortunately, there are many good and helpful people to be found in church, and the guy behind her started patting the flames out immediately. She hardly even knew what had happened.

Now I'm married to a part-time arsonist who likes to deal with yard waste by setting it afire. Last spring he had the brilliant idea (from his mom's crazy neighbor) to get rid of (i.e. cut back) the ornamental grasses by lighting them on fire. Unfortunately, he forgot that all of our ornamental grasses are quite closely placed near our pine trees. He got through a couple clumps of grass before he figured out that he needed to water down the trees before he lit anything on fire. So, one of our pine trees was scalded and seared along one side. The tree was probably 8 feet tall and beautiful - it was our nicest tree. Now, it's been cut down to about 4 feet and is totally bald on one side...but it perseveres.

Now, my toes are kind of cold, so I think I'll turn on the fireplace...

Awww! How sweet! AdSense thinks my blog is popular

Mina suggested that I owe two posts, since I had nothing to say in November. AdSense thinks I'm popular. I don't know how these two things are related, but I'm sure they must be.

This is what happens when I have nothing to say - I ramble on about nothing. It's been an eventful week around here, but not a pleasant one. Fortunately, I had Mel's cricket to distract me for some time.

My husband's father passed away this week. He had cancer a few years ago, and it appeared that he had beaten it. Unfortunately, it came back. It must have come back in stealth mode, because the doctors did not detect it until it had spread everywhere. My father-in-law opted to forego treatment, and was able to fulfill his desire to die at home, surrounded by his family.

Now I just have to get through the wake and funeral without saying anything awkward. It's really hard to suppress my natural talent that way. If there's one thing at which I excel, it's saying awkward things, and I really let my light shine at wakes. Someone sew my mouth shut, please.

File Under: A Little Competition is a Good Thing?

Overheard in my household today:

Scene: The bedroom, where my husband is preparing to shower by doing his pre-shower mini-exercise routine. My daughter is "exercising" too.

Daughter: Exercise is good for you, right, Daddy?

Husband: Yes it is!

Daughter: It helps you live a long time!

Husband: Yes!

Daughter: You and I are going to live a lot longer than Mommy, right, Daddy?

Husband: ...

(For the record, I get up a half hour earlier than necessary so I can work out before I go to work. My daughter is well aware of this.)

Now that some time has passed, I can calmly tell the saga of my computer. It's a long one.

Last November, after complaining about the speed and heat levels coming from my old, reliable Acer notebook computer, my husband finally told me that I should go out and get a new laptop. I went to that store that uses a big old price tag for its logo, and looked at what was available. I had a price range and some features in mind. I had read the reviews on cnet. I picked a Toshiba Satellite with an i3 processor and 4 GB of RAM. The price was reasonable, and I was comfortable with my purchase.

The computer worked great for 3 months. Then, one day, the speakers started emitting a high-pitched whine. I tried the usual solutions - rebooting, turning the speakers off and on, removing all the power sources - and then I called* for service. The service guy had me reinstall Windows (which involved saving all my photos and music and such), which did not help. The next solution was to send the computer in for repair. It was at this point where I realized that I should have bought the extended warranty, because I could then have had a replacement computer immediately. Instead, I sent the computer in for repair.

During this time, my husband was deployed in Iraq and Afghanistan. Our communication was mainly through email, with the occasional Skype chat. I needed a computer. I still had the Acer, which still works, but it was practically setting my lap on fire, and I had internet road rage from the slow responses.

After about three weeks, my computer came back...as did my husband. I turned the computer on, turned on the speakers, and the high-pitched whine was gone! Hurray! Unfortunately, it had been replaced with a low-pitched hiss that sounded every time I started a program or clicked on a link. Also, there were some other new issues that came along with the repair. So the computer ended up worse than when I sent it in. When my husband went back to work, the computer went back to Toshiba's repair center.

This time, the computer was in the repair center for less than one day, according to the delivery tracking on both ends. It was returned to me with no change. I called* the service line again. I explained the problem to the girl who finally answered, who then asked if I could hold for 5 minutes or less while she researched my case. My response was "Well, I've already been on hold for 45 minutes, so what's another 5?" I think she may have gotten the idea that I was a little upset.

Toshiba then asked me to return the computer for repair again - they don't give refunds, in case you were wondering. Having no choice, I sent the piece of junk back "to the engineers" at Tri-Star Computer for more repair. It arrived on May 27th. I think it was about June 3, when I received a notification that my computer was on its way back to me. I followed the tracking, and it should have arrived on the following Monday. When I checked on Tuesday, the shipping notification indicated that it had made it to my area, but was returned to sender. I was confused, but I let it go for a few days. On June 10, I called* the service center, where they told me that there had been a mixup and they had sent me the wrong computer and my computer was on its way back to them. They would ship it out ASAP.

On June 17, I called the repair center again. They gave me the same story. At this point, I was...irate. To put it mildly. Not only had Toshiba sold me a defective computer, the repair centers had not fixed it. And then they sent it off into oblivion - never to be seen again. I'm fairly glad that after the initial reinstallation of Windows, I really hadn't accessed any personal data on that computer. Someone could have had easy access to all of my banking and credit card and other personal information.

It was around this point that I decided to step up the complaint process. I did a little internet research and found the main Toshiba website, which had a feedback section. I described the situation in detail. Then next Wednesday, the top customer service representative in the US (allegedly) called* me to see how we could solve my problem. Apparently, appealing to Japan directly gets results. He offered me a credit to Toshiba Direct or a different computer with a slightly faster (i5) chip, but otherwise identical. I opted for the slightly faster replacement.

The computer came in a few days, but I couldn't get it. Fedex refused to deliver it when I was not at work. They wouldn't change the delivery address. They wouldn't let me pick it up that day, or the next, and if they failed to deliver 3 times, it would go back to the sender. Fortunately, I was able to pick it up on a Saturday morning. I finally got it home a few hours later, and when I turned it on, the screen was broken. No picture at all - just a bunch of lines.

I emailed the customer service guy, and asked for my money back again. No luck - I could get the credit or I could return the computer for repair. When I did a quick check of the website, it appeared that I could barely get an equivalent laptop for the price of the credit. I sent the replacement in for repair. I got it back again. It seemed fine...until I went to plug in my mouse.

I'm not a fan of the touch pad - that was the downside to the Acer. The touch pad was so oversensitive that it was basically unusable. Therefore, I use a mouse, unless it's totally inconvenient to do so. Anyway, I plugged in my mouse to the USB port, and it didn't work. I have just enough computer knowledge to be dangerous, so I knew I could delete the USB drives and then reinstall them. That did not help. I did a little research and found that if your USB ports don't work, and they don't work after reinstalling, you probably have a motherboard that's about to go bad.

At this point, I demanded my money back again. Toshiba refused. I thought about going back through Japan, but didn't have the energy to fight anymore. I took the credit they offered. I picked the new computer and ordered it. The sales associate said they would expedite the order, and I refused, since I was about to leave for vacation. She said the computer would then be shipped on the day we were scheduled to return from vacation. I said that was great. Of course, when checking my email on vacation, I found that the computer was shipped 5 days later. Then I found that the computer was delivered to my house and left on my porch - no signature required.

It's been 2 months since I got the new computer. The keyboard is less than reliable; if I'm leaving typos in your comment section, blame Toshiba. I'm stuck with this thing for several more years. But at some point, I will buy myself a Tablet PC which might make my computing life fun again.

*All calls were made with a Blackberry Curve on the Sprint network. The Sprint network, in conjunction with the Blackberry Curve, does not work at my house and averages one dropped call in every two calls I make. This is especially pleasant and useful when trying to make service calls or when you're in the queue to speak to an agent. It is also my only phone, since we do not have a landline. The Blackberry Curve is also slightly aerodynamic, and sails nicely across my front lawn. But that's a story for another day. Apparently, technology is not my friend. And you get what you pay for.

Added note: You can thank St. Elsewhere for this, as she suggested it was time for me to post something. ;)

Where I make you look at my vacation photos...now with more accurate text!

(Wow. Two posts in two days. Probably won't have anything else to say for the rest of the year...)

For our first real vacation in 8 years (since our honeymoon), my husband and I decided to visit Santa Barbara, California. I thought he'd want to lounge on the beach and watch the days go by, but he made several suggestions on things to see. That fits in with my preference for vacations (seeing everything I can possibly pack in), and so I set to planning.

We arrived in Santa Barbara in the evening, and ate dinner on Stearn's Wharf.


During the day, Santa Barbara was beautiful...and wonderfully cool compared to the 90+ temperatures in the midwest.


We explored a bit, and ate at Joe's Cafe. Apparently, it's the oldest restaurant in Santa Barbara. We were only eating because we needed something to do before we could go to our first wine tasting. We visited Jaffur's. The wine was delicious, and they gave us some pointers for additional wineries to visit. So we made our way up to the Brander vineyard, through some beautiful countryside.

I was loving my smartphone - not only for its GPS capabilities, but because if I became a Facebook friend of Brander, they gave us a bonus tasting of a $50 bottle of Cabernet. That alllllmost enticed me to buy a $50 bottle of wine. My husband, however, varied from his usual preferences and bought a bottle of white wine.*



The next day, we drove up the coast to San Simeon. We took the most scenic route, so we could visit the wine ghetto in Lompoc. Several wineries have tasting rooms in the middle of an industrial area behind a Home Depot - thus, wine ghetto. We enjoyed some really good Mexican food and samples of wine. There, I learned how important it is to let wine breathe (very!) and my husband bought a bottle of red.* Then we continued up the coast and stopped at the beach at Morro Bay.


The next day, we visited the Heart Castle. It was a most amazing place. The tour guides were great, and the house and gardens were incredible. Of course, I felt compelled to read up on Hearst after visiting, and he was certainly an interesting character. I don't think I would have liked him very well, but I suppose he must have been charming in a way that can't be conveyed in a biography.



Before starting off on our next adventure, we took a short detour up the coast to check out the elephant seal rookery. There are two things to know about elephant seals, as far as I am concerned. They are very loud and they are very stinky. We didn't stay long.


We drove across California to Visalia, where we enjoyed the many points my husband's travels have earned him with a free hotel stay. Visalia is about 40 miles from the Sequoia National Forest, which is where we intended to visit. We passed the many orange and lemon groves, fields full of cherry trees and olive trees and strawberries...we wanted to stop and eat everything! Along the way to the National Forest, we passed Lake Kaweah.


We stopped in Three Rivers because they were advertising a Hot Dog Festival that would begin at 10:00. We got there around 9:50. Here in the midwest, when something begins at 10:00, that's when we expect the food to be ready. Apparently in Three Rivers, that's when they fire up the grill. Fortunately, they had a tiny museum with plenty of things from early settlers to inspect while we waited 30 minutes for a hot dog.

The National Forest was indescribable. Imposing mountains,


Beautiful rivers with rushing rapids


and waterfalls,


giant trees with fascinating history,


and incredible rock formations. This one was called Beetle Rock.


I don't have Photoshop on my home computer, so I can't show you good pictures of the cave we visited. I can tell you, though, that if the national park service tells you that it's a fairly strenuous hike, you should believe them. I can also tell you that stalactites stalagmites** (which apparently take hundreds of years to grow up) look very much like stone dildoes.


My husband was surprised to learn that he wanted to return for the second day. We saw a very small sample of the park, and if we didn't have so many more places to see on this earth, I'd go right back.



After that, we returned to Santa Barbara for one last night. We found a beautiful beach, and spent some time there.


And for those of you who remember what I was doing last summer, I saw this on State Street when we were out and about buying t-shirts. I don't know what it was, exactly, but I assume it's a drinking establishment. It was too early to tell...


It was a wonderful vacation. There were many things that struck me, though. First, gas prices in California were not as expensive as I expected them to be (at least around Santa Barbara). Second, vacations are very expensive. I had no idea. I'd better vacation more often so I can keep up with the prices! Next, I should probably retire and drink wine all the time. It seems to be my life's calling. Finally, I love avocados!

Next week, I'm off to Wyoming for a class. Expect more pictures of mountains.

*My husband bought the wine. I drank a good portion of the wine. Just so we're clear.

**Thanks to Valery for correcting me and giving me a way to remember the difference between stalactites and stalagmites. It was so obvious - tits hang down!

A Day in the Life...

Here is a sampling of 24 hours of my life:


3:30 pm Doctor's office
Doctor: Hey! How are you! Great to see you! So, what's going on? Last time I saw you, you were talking about...

Me: Yeah. We did a round of IVF last November. It didn't work out, obviously.

Doctor: Oh, I'm so sorry...


6:30 pm My kitchen

Daughter: (*takes knife, slides it in*) Mommy, I thought you were going to grow me a baby in your belly.

Me: I tried, honey. It just didn't work out.

Daughter: (*gives knife experimental twist*) You were supposed to grow me 2 brothers and 3 sisters.

Me: I would have really liked to do so, but we don't always get what we want.

Daughter: (*fully rotates knife a few hundred times per second) But I'll be lonely when you die.

Me: Oh, no. By that time, you'll have a family of your own.

11:30 am My Office

Coworker/mother of my daughter's "boyfriend": I just got back from the doctor's and "boyfriend" is going to have a little brother or sister next spring!

Me: Congratulations! That's great!


Clearly the universe is having issues with me this week... Sigh. Hope that's over with.

If it bothers you that much..

For me, the internet is a playground - a source of entertainment. I can connect with people who live far away. I can find amusing videos. I can read blogs. I can read the news. I can check the weather and find addresses and directions. You know that lost piece of information? The one about that one actor who was in the movie with the other guy? I can find that too. I have 4 email accounts. I have a Facebook account. I have a blog. I have Google Reader packed with stuff to read all day long. I love the internet and I don't know what I would do without it.

Lately, it seems that many people are finding the internet more of a burden than a pleasure. I've seen countless posts complaining about Facebook. I've seen lots of remarks about the pros and cons of Twitter. I've seen people agonizing over the "direction" of their blogs, and complaints about the "branding" that others are doing. And here's what it comes down to - people seem to have a certain level of expectations from the activities in which they participate on the internet. When those expectations are not met, they get upset about it.

Let's take email to start. In Jennifer's Head recently wrote Oh Compulsive Email Forwarder . I love her take on this. I have an email forwarder (or several) in my life. For me, it's a good way to know people are still alive. (I used to be a fairly prolific correspondent, but for every letter I sent out, I got zero in return.) I think forwarding jokes and warnings and such was a kind of rite of passage when you got an email account in years past. But there are those who find the forwarded joke a huge imposition. A friend of mine used to share her email account with her partner. Her partner (who is generally irritable anyway) blocked my email address because she felt I was forwarding too many jokes. Rather than requesting that I not forward things to her, she blocked communication between my friend and me. It's just email - the deletion of an email requires a click or two of the mouse. To get offended by it seems like an extreme reaction, which I don't really understand. In Jennifer's Head's post seems like my sort of reaction - a slightly sarcastic, mild rant laced with affection. Perfect.

And then there's Facebook. I love Facebook - it's a useless timewaster containing all sorts of entertainment in one place. I rarely update - most of the things you see on my wall are game results or requests. I post some pictures sometimes. I comment on others' posts all the time. I don't know much about the origins of Facebook (and I didn't see the movie). Based on my memory of the thought processes I had while in college, I doubt Facebook was meant to be taken as seriously as people take it today. I suspect it was supposed to be a way to find the parties on campus. It has morphed into a giant entity with so many facets...and for each facet I've found someone who finds it irritating. Post a status update complaining about anything? Someone will complain about it. Post a photo? You're either bragging or gloating or stupidly posting something inappropriate. Don't talk about your faith or lack thereof - it's offensive. Don't talk about your political preferences - it's offensive. Don't do anything that anyone else might disagree with - you'll be reviled. I'm not talking about STFU Parents or Failbook because those are snark, and snark is appreciated. But I can't think of a blog I've read that mentions Facebook that doesn't mention how the author hates it (OK, maybe one). I understand that it's venting, but I really haven't seen one person post about how they love facebook. I've never seen anyone post about how they love to play Farmville. I've never seen anyone post about how they like to see what people they don't see in person are doing. So here's me saying I love Bejewelled Blitz - especially when I can beat my sisters. I love arguing politics with the guy from high school who used to ride the same bus. I hate that one of my best childhood friends holds such wacky political beliefs but am thankful that I can watch her son grow up from afar. And for the rest of you...it's facebook. Please. Take it for what it's worth. Better yet, take it for what you pay for it. Whatever you do, don't take it so personally. And let me know if you play Gardens of Time - I need more neighbors. :)

Twitter is something that I really can't get into. It sounds attractive to a certain extent. It would be something to do with all the "Is it really necessary to block me in traffic EVERY morning, Mr. Plumber truck?" irritation I have. But all the angst over follower numbers, and the idea of sorting out hundreds of tweets a day, and the prevalence of marketing and spam all conspires to turn me off. I appreciate the quotes that I've read, but it seems like there is very little meat to Twitter. Or maybe there is very little wheat but bucketloads of chaff. And then I see that some people may not respond to comments, but do respond to tweets. That's when I think that Twitter is probably better than anything for establishing friendships, because it's much more like having a conversation. But in contrast, there's the opposite of relationship building, and so I stay away.

On to blogs. I'm not much of a blogger. I don't have that much to say, because I am unable to put my emotions on display. I would probably be better on Twitter, where my commentary would be limited. But for those days like today, when I want to go on and on, I love my blog. I love reading blogs. There's fascinating information, funny stories, giveaways, insights into other people and their lives - it's a gold mine...with veins of crap, sure, but there is so much good stuff out there. I feel honored that anyone reads anything I write, and my days would be completely boring if I didn't have so much stuff to read. (I suppose I could work harder, but what fun would that be?) Here's the thing about blogs, though - there seems to be a huge internal conflict among American bloggers. They want to be taken seriously. They want readership. They would really like to make some money from writing. But they don't want to be seen as commercial. I've seen articles from 3 Ways to Drive Blog Traffic From Major News Events (subject matter obvious) to Five Hundred and One (where the author is getting traffic but still feels unnoticed). I see laments about the sidetracking of blogging in favor of other social media. I think the thing that bothers me most, though, is what I perceive as jealousy of the bloggers who have "made it." I see people commenting about how those bloggers are all about their brand and promoting themselves. I'm sorry, but aside from a very few instances, every blog I've seen has been promoting the writer in some form. Fortunately, there are a few people out there, like this one and this one (had to link to that particular post because it's great), and even this one (her other blogs are not as selfless, thus the "even") who are trying to promote more than themselves. They try to promote community and education and connections between people. People like this show their support in tangible ways. So to the jealous ones, or the ones worried about their brand, I say take a look at what these people do. Brand is not as important as making your blog something admirable. Most of the people I read have that quality - I hope they can eventually take over the internet. And if they strike it rich in the meantime, more power to them.

To anyone who finds social media so oppressive, please be realistic in your expectations. You'll be much less irritated, and then maybe you can behold the internet in wide-eyed wonder again.

And if you'll excuse me, I have to go search for the best way to transfer 8mm film to video - eHow can tell me how, and eBay can probably provide me with discounted tools.

Come to think of it, there are no problems when Katy Perry's Extra-Terrestrial is on...

You know how you have those little things that you should get fixed, but don't? Just something small and annoying, but you can deal with it, so you just let it slide? I have a couple things around the house like that, including the caulking around our sliding glass door that I think is letting ants in, and the weed whacker missing a bolt which makes it impossible for me to start. But the main thing that doesn't work right? My car radio.

More specifically, it's my husband's car radio. I drive the car most often, because it gets better gas mileage. However, it's his car and his radio. You see, I may have mentioned before that he is...frugal. So when he decided he was going to buy a car to replace the pickup truck that he sold, he put on his negotiating face and went to the dealership with the newspaper. There was a stripped down version of the car he wanted, for the cheapest price advertised, and that was what he wanted. The only problem? The car didn't come with a radio. So he harassed the salesman to put a radio in the car. Now, I didn't expect to get some sort of stellar sound system, but I didn't expect what I got.

At first, it was just the odd anomaly. Once in a while, the radio would turn itself up. Self-adjusting volume was...interesting. I usually have the volume between 5 and 7, and it would turn itself up to about 17 or 19. My daughter was not fond of this. The clock would lose a minute or two a week, making me cut it a little close on getting to work. But these were just intermittent annoyances.

Next, the display started acting up. It wasn't that some of the LEDs stopped working. It was like aliens were taking over the radio - strange symbols would appear and then the screen would go blank. I tried to take pictures of it, but a) it would mostly only happen when I was driving, and I'm not very steady at taking pictures while the car is moving, and b) if I could take a steady picture, the alien symbols would disappear when I pulled out the phone's camera.

The latest problem, which makes me think the aliens have actually taken control of the radio, is that the preset buttons rarely take the radio to the station I select. I leave for work between 6:15 and 6:20, and right around that time, every radio station in my area seems to go to commercial. So I try to find some music, and start hitting buttons. Preset 2 will give me preset 3. Preset 4 or 5 sometimes adjust the volume all the way down. Preset 5 will let me adjust the equalizer. Preset 6 will give me preset 6, but then all the other presets will only lead to preset 6. Apparently, the aliens really like pop music. But only the totally pop music station, because the crossover type pop station will almost never show up. And commercials. They like commercials too.

(We just took a trip to Chicago, and I got 5 days of the blessed relief of picking one station [93 - WXRT] and sticking with it. They play the best music, so there's no need to change the station)

As an added bonus, it plays CDs just fine when my husband drives, but every CD I've put in just generates an error message. Theoretically, you could hook up an MP3 player to it, but I am afraid of what would happen if I tried it.

I could have had this fixed or replaced, if I had followed up on it when it first started happening. Unfortunately, I didn't manage to get that done. So now, we have a very strange radio. And since it mostly behaves when my husband drives, he thinks it's hilarious that the aliens only want to talk to me!

I should have bought a Power Ball ticket too...

I've been pretty lucky lately. Well, in general, I feel like I'm pretty lucky - I have a wonderful husband (when he's not being annoying) and a delightful, hilarious daughter, in addition to a very entertaining extended family. But I've been the beneficiary of some extra luck lately.

Lori Lavender Luz was hosting a giveaway at her All Thumbs review page recently. I won a great set of glass storage containers, some recipe cards, and a flexible measuring cup. I would have taken a picture, but everything went immediately into the dishwasher (except the recipe cards, of course!) so I could use them right away!

My other big win is a trip. One day, at work, I received an email from one of the managers regarding a travel/training opportunity. The training and lodging is funded through a particular program, but if you were one of the first 100 to register, your travel expenses would also be paid. Since I work for state government, and since the state coffers are empty, training opportunities have been few and far between...unless I'd like to pay for them myself. I'd rather spend my travel money for leisure than work, so I haven't been able to go to any professional meetings in quite a few years. I was able to get my registration in, and now I get to spend a week in August in Jackson Hole, Wyoming! There are worse places to attend training, I think. I'm hoping I'll get a chance to snag a rental car and take a quick trip to Yellowstone National Park to see Old Faithful.

We've already had our first vacation this year - my daughter and I spent the weekend in Chicago attending my niece's graduation. I'm planning a couple more trips too. This should be the most exciting summer I've had in a long time!