Day off day offff! And it is POURING. Which is nice. I can sit inside and listen to the rain and cuddle with a VERY dumb lazy Dumbcat and relax. Well, other than the errands I have to run and then tonight I have a board meeting and I’m sure tomorrow I’ll be right back to work. And tomorrow you’ll be reading this so it’s all in the past for you. But today? DAY OFF! I am playing with the internet and watching the shows I missed last night when I was working the late shift and I am enjoying this the MOST. I’ve worked the past seven days straight so this is so nice right now. I am IDLING LIKE A PRO. Ken would be SO PROUD.
(Oh, since you’re probably SO CURIOUS, I am watching Warehouse 13, Alphas, and Revolution. Well, one at a time, not all at once, of course. Heh. I love Warehouse 13 to distraction – Claudia is one of my favorite TV characters currently on the air.
I like Alphas quite a bit, and am curious if Revolution will be any good. I am very optimistic about premiere season. The commercials make it look like it’ll be right up my alley, but a lot of things look good in commercials and end up terrible. So we’ll see what happens. I love new things. I’m all about the shiny.)
Last night I went to bed without a huge cat scratch on my arm and today I woke up with one so I think you can do the math and 2 + 2 = Dumbcat is trying to kill me in my sleep with his adamantium claws.
Oh, I have a Dad story. You will like. It made me giggle.
So Dad’s got two email addresses. One’s Hotmail and one’s through his internet company. (Don’t start with me. I’ve been trying to convince him to get a Gmail address forEVER. He’s all “WHY WOULD I WANT THAT I ALREADY HAVE TWO” even though I tell him over and over that Gmail is far superior than any email client I’ve used.) The email through his internet company has long-since gone unused because it started to get all spammed up, so he was exclusively using Hotmail. (Not that he uses anything much. He has dialup. Everything takes him a billion years so he doesn’t use the internet much at all.) Then his internet company sent him a letter saying they’d instituted a new spam filter so he decided he wanted to start using that address again, so he signed into that account for the first time in years and it had over 10,000 spam messages in it. But there was no option for him to delete them all (plus he was CONVINCED that one, or more, of them, might be something he wanted, or maybe a Chinese businessman offering him a million yen in exchange for a bank account number) so he was deleting them ONE AT A DAMN TIME over the past few weeks. And he has dialup. So it was taking a VERY LONG TIME.
Dad: I deleted about a hundred more today.
Me: Ugh, I kind of want to call up your email company and yell at them for not allowing you to delete all at once. How annoying.
Dad: No, it’s ok. What if one of them was a real email?
Me: Well, since you haven’t logged on in years, I’d think that probably the time limit has passed for responding to that email.
Dad: But maybe not. You don’t know. I could be a millionaire! I could have an email in there from a long-lost friend!
Me: You hate people. You don’t have any long-lost friends.
Dad: Well, you wouldn’t know until you found them. Because they’re long-lost.
Me: I guess. Sometimes things that are long-lost are better off there, is my thought on the matter. Also, if you had Facebook, no one would be long-lost. Facebook makes long-lost a thing of the past. Your long-lost friends are in your face showing you kitten GIFs and telling you how much they love misogyny.
Dad: What’s a GIF?
Me: Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.
Dad: So today, I deleted email from 1974. I think I’m almost to the end of it.
Me: Um. Wait. What?
Dad: I’m almost to the end. I’ve been deleting this stuff for DAYS.
Me: No, no. 1974?
Dad: Yep. That’s got to be almost the end, right?
Me: Dad, there aren’t messages in there from 1974.
Dad: No, there are.
Me: Are you being sarcastic?
Dad: No, of course I’m not. 1974! I’m almost done.
Me: DAD. You didn’t have that account in 1974.
Dad: I’m pretty sure I did.
Me: DAD. You didn’t get that COMPUTER until I was in COLLEGE. So, the early 90s, then.
Dad: Are you sure?
Me: Quite sure. I didn’t even have my first email account until 1992. And you didn’t get yours until after I got mine because I was always bugging you to get one.
Dad: Huh. You’re sure?
Me: YES DAD. Wait, I’ll research it. OK, although there was very basic email in the early 70s, you didn’t have it. I can assure you. You didn’t even have internet access in the house until I left for college. Where would you have been sending email from? Two tin cans and some string?
Dad: I’m pretty sure the emails said 1974. Why would they lie to me?
Me: Dad, who would you even have been TALKING to? NO ONE had email then. Well, maybe hard-core computer geeks. Old-school gamers. You aren’t friends with any of those people. Do you think they said 1994? Because there’s a good chance you’ve had that account for that long.
Dad: Huh. This is interesting.
Me: What would email in 1974 even be spamming you for? Reel-t0-reel tape recorders? Polyester leisure suits?
Dad: I don’t know. I didn’t read it. I think it was all for Viagra.
Me: No one knew about Viagra back then. Back then, no one needed Viagra. The 70s were a manlier time! Less need for sexual aids! More hairy chests tangled with gold chains and songs about stayin’ alive!
Dad: You don’t know. You were a baby then.
Me: I was. Those were simpler times. Strained peas. People catering to my every whim. Can I go back to those times?
Dad: No. You’d hate that. You’d have to poo in a diaper. Also, people would touch you. You hate being touched.
Me: True. Good call. Hey, maybe that email was all from Al Gore, about planning the internet! You should have read it. You could have been sitting on a gold mine. You could have written a book! Me & Gore: An Email Correspondence from the PAST.
Dad: Oh, man. I told you reading those emails was a good idea. I deleted them. That was your INHERITANCE. NOW what will you live on when I die?
Me: You just can’t die, I guess. That’s all there is to it.
Dad: I AM SO TIRED. Are you sure I can’t?
Me: Yep. At least until after I do.
Dad: ARGH. That is a LONG TIME.
Dad: I’m going to go delete more emails from 1974 now.
Me: Have fun in the 70s. Say hi to my childhood for me. Tell me to not make all those bad decisions. And that plaid pants and vest combos with a rust-colored turtleneck on school photo day are not a good idea.
When I asked Dad the next day what the date ACTUALLY was on the emails he was deleting he was all “I FORGET” all grumpy-like so I’m guessing I was right that they were 1994 and he didn’t want to admit he’d read them wrong. Oh, Dad.
OK, off to idle some more. IDLING!!!! Dumbcat thinks I should idle more. He’s been a pro at this for years so he’s confused why I find this so difficult.