Customer Service Lady (CSL): Go to system preferences, create a new user, then log in as the new user.Good times. Yesterday, when I was sick at home, I made both dreaded phone calls. The person at the dial-up company was really nice and kept me on the phone about 20 minutes longer than necessary, since we'd determined in the first five minutes that the problem had nothing to do with them. Then I called Apple and that went rather smoothly too. My favorite line: "It shouldn't do that. You should be able to quit out of that." Well, yes, dontcha know, that's why I was calling. The upshot: I've got a busted modem and I can either mail the computer to them (scary) or take it to the nearest Apple store (my choice). This will have to wait until next week because I'm going to Chapel Hill for the weekend (wedding) and there is not a moment to spare before then. Not being able to get on-line at home is a problem. I have to make sure to blog before I leave work. Also, I have no way to check the email that links to the blog: it is blocked by a firewall at work. And no IMing for me (just as well, keeps me up too late). It's only a couple of days, but still. I need my fix every single day.
Jamy: I can do that, but I don't think it will help. Can you tell me why you're having me do that?
CSL: Are you going to do it or not?
Jamy: What? Sure, I just want to know why--why you think it will help.
CSL: Why are you calling? Do you want me to help or not? Are you going to follow my instructions?
Jamy: Why do you think I'm calling? Of course I want your help. I'm just asking a question.
CSL: Please hold. (Followed shortly by a hang-up.)
I haven't been as busy as I'd expected due to a combination of laziness and vague illness. I skipped class on Monday (felt good), cancelled on little sister on Tuesday (felt lame), rescheduled ushering tonight (whatever). Thursday night I was going to do a volunteer thing, but I may skip that in favor of a man hunt. I talk a good game on this front, but in reality, I'm terrible at it.
Who are we hunting? Princess went to a party on Sunday night (without me, so sad) and she met a woman there who told her all about Mr. Wonderful who is perfect for Princess. He sounded great so Princess asked what was the catch. Mr. Wonderful has been divorced about one and half years (no problem) and he has FIVE kids. FIVE. The woman has an antique store on U-Street and there is an open house on Thursday (5-9) that Mr. Wonderful always attends. I said, "We have to go. We have to." Might as well take a look. I told Princess this is all about me-me-me and she can just be there for support. Heh. We'll see about that.
A bit more on writing...while I know I don't have to post once a day, I want to. If I stop wanting to post every day, I will, but I'm not there yet. Still, I have too much on my plate and I can't handle it all. I would dearly love to drop my writing class, but I don't think I can. I would lose the money--but, so what? I still hate that stupid class. I'm not getting anything out of it. If anything, it's taking me in the wrong direction. The piece I worked up for class was a combination of a couple of blog entries. When I strung them together it turned into something else. Something that reminded me of every other story I've ever written.
What I've learned from the blog is that I'm more comfortable writing about my life without the pretense that it's fiction. There is a comfort to fiction--when I would write the absolute truth, I could always claim it was fiction and protect myself. I lose some of that protection on the blog, but then I don't have to argue about whether it "rings true." It is true so they can just shut up. (Princess says: the blog is not completely fact. Good point...I was just getting to that.) The blog is not fiction. However, some things have been altered to fit the story line. I would describe the blog as highly edited. I asked Princess: but it's really me, can't you tell it's me? She said yes. So, yes, this blog won't give you a false impression of me. Sometimes I think I present a slightly more confused, more pathetic version of myself for the sake of humor. Well, maybe that's the nature of these journals--or of any journal--the spilling of one's inner thoughts will make you seem a little crazier than usual. Honest, I'm just the normal amount of crazy.
Tomorrow: cute date, part two.
Grateful for: being the normal amount of crazy.