Category Archives: laptop

I’m sorry I had a fight in the middle of your Black Panther party.

I have a lot of things in my head today. RANDOM CRAP SATURDAY!

It’s nice here on the dark side. There’s cake.

So…new laptop. SO SHINY. Listen, I can’t even explain how much this thing is blowing my mind. I know. I KNOW. You probably all have laptops and iPads and whatnot and are all, meh, Amy, this is not that exciting. But the evil other computer? I can’t even explain how slow it was. And the freezing up. And the not allowing me to do things. And the erasing things I’d written so I had to re-do hours of work. And did I mention the freezing? Right before I wanted to go to bed? SO MUCH FREEZING. I would have a weeping breakdown over that thing weekly. Which is why it’s good I live alone. Having a roommate who had to deal with such things = a good way to lose a friend. Dumbcat doesn’t care if I have a weeping meltdown, as long as I feed him, and once and a while give him some cuddles.

But new laptop! I haven’t been this much in love with an inanimate object since I got my cell last year (around this time, actually. Tax season = Amy has the money to buy new technology!) I am sitting on my couch writing while I can watch television and Dumbcat is all cuddled up to me and I have fruit punch. ALL IS WELL IN THE WORLD.

Well, I did something today I SWORE I would never do. Are you ready? You’re going to be shocked. SHOCKED. I couldn’t do it with the old computer, and my cell doesn’t have enough memory.

I…downloaded the Kindle App.


Wait! Let me plead my case!

I love paper books. I love them. So much. I’m not going to stop reading paper books. I am currently reading A Feast for Crows, and it’s paper. And although I am a little befuddled about who all these new characters are and it’s making my head a little swimmy, I love it more than a lot of things in the world.

But you know my gig over at Insatiable Booksluts, which I love a bushel and a peck?

We get galleys and such to read, sometimes. Which are available only by e-reader. I want to be able to read them, and review them.

Also, my library has started putting some new releases out via e-reader. NEW releases. Which I could get quicker than I could if I waited for the paper copy, which sometimes has a very long wait, and although patience is totally a virtue, it’s not one I possess.

AND, sometimes books go on crazy sale for e-reader. Like, a couple of dollars. I could read a book for a couple of dollars!

Also – YES, I KNOW, I PUT A LOT OF THOUGHT INTO SOMETHING SO SIMPLE – I decided it was asshatty of me to be so mistrusting of this new technology. I love technology. Love it. How much do I love my phone, my laptop, social networking, this very blog you’re reading? Yes, true, none of those worry me that they’ll be the end of publishing as I know it – and listen, no one loves paper books as much as I do, NO ONE – but it’s a douche move of me to completely disregard an entire new form of technology because I’m being a Luddite about it. And probably there will always be books, right? Just say there will, I don’t want to live in a world where things are otherwise, I’ll just die.

So, yes. I downloaded the Kindle app. Me! The person who, just a few months ago, TURNED DOWN A GIFT KINDLE. (If it matters, I’ve felt like an asshole about that ever since.)

I now have a new shiny book to read on it and EVERYTHING. And the free books that came with it.

I KNOW ZOMG. This is kind of a small step for man moment, right? Right.

And? The logo of Kindle could not even be cheerier and more evocative if it TRIED.

I think this might be trouble with a capital T for a booklover with a credit card, right?


Inter…um, no, wait…similar…cousin-y…whatever the hell they are. FRIENDS! FRIENDS!

OK, I kind of buried the lead, here. But guess what I have for you all today?

HELPER MULE UPDATE! And it is a weird and wild DOOZY of an update (although, brief!)

Talked to Dad the other night. Oh, wait, backtrack, first, we had THIS conversation:

Dad: Listen, I don’t think we can go to the zoo when we go to Florida.
Me: What? Why?
Dad: Because of the black panthers.

Why can't we see the black panthers? I'd like to see the black panthers.

Me: There are black panthers? I didn’t see them on the website. Just caracals. It’s a little zoo.

ZOMG look at this jaunty caracal! He has a total 'tude. I adore him.


Ah. That makes more sense. Still don't know what they're doing at the zoo, though.

Me: Why are the Black Panthers at my zoo?
Dad: Because the zoo’s in the same town where Trayvon Martin was shot.
Me: Oh, crap. I didn’t even realize it was the same town. The Black Panthers are there?
Dad: They might be there.
Me: Oh, so they’re NOT there.
Dad: They said they might be there.
Me: At the zoo? Did they specifically say they’d be at the zoo? With the kookaburras and the caracals?
Dad: I think it’s a bad idea.
Me: I think you just don’t want to go to the zoo. Also, I’m pretty sure that even if the Black Panthers HAPPEN to be at the zoo, we’ll be ok. I don’t think they’re mad at us, specifically.
Dad: Maybe we could go somewhere else instead.
Me: NO. ZOO.
Dad: There’s a NASCAR museum.
Me: Are there caracals and kookaburras in the cars?
Dad: I’d think that’s unlikely.
Me: I’ll take my chances with the Black Panthers.

OK, so after this, which I’m fairly sure was just a vague plot to get him out of having to take me to the zoo, which is the ONE THING I AM SO SO EXCITED ABOUT,  because he does not share my joy in zoos, Dad continued with this, which I can not BELIEVE he did not tell me sooner!

Dad: So I drove past Helper Mule today.
Me: Aw! How’s he doing? I hope you honked at him, to tell him hi.
Dad: No. I did not do that. He has a friend.
Me: What? A friend? What do you mean?
Dad: There were two mule-like animals in the corral.
Dad: I’m not sure. One was a little bigger, so it might have been a horse.
Me: Or a wildebeest?
Dad: Probably not a wildebeest. It didn’t look like a wild cow creature.
Me: Hee, wild cow creature, awesome. Do more research into this situation. You can’t leave me hanging like this. The whole internet is counting on you, you know.
Dad: That’s a lot of pressure.

So I waited like a FULL TWENTY-FOUR HOURS and I was on PINS AND NEEDLES, seriously. What was in the paddock with Helper Mule? What was happening? Did he have a friend? SO MANY QUESTIONS!

Then, finally, it was Helper Mule update time. And it was so worth the wait.

Dad: So, I called my buddy up, and asked him what was going on with Helper Mule’s friend.
Me: AND AND AND?!?!?!
Dad: Do you need a time-out? Take a breath.
Me: When this happens on the internet I tell them I’m going to breathe into a bag. Pretend I’m breathing into a bag.
Dad: You tell the internet people that? You shouldn’t tell them that. It’s just more information for them to use to stalk and kill you with.
Me: I don’t think there’s much they could do with that. WHAT’S GOING ON WITH THE MULE, DAD.
Dad:  That is a mare. She is pregnant. And he bought her to be friends with Helper Mule.
Me: A lady-friend? A lady-friend who’s KNOCKED UP? Ooh, this is totally a tangled web, Dad.

She got abandoned by her baby-daddy. But Helper Mule is a total gentleman, so he'll step in and save the day. AND WIN HER HEART.

Dad: I guess.
Me: You don’t seem to be overly excited about this turn of events at all. This is like a MULE SOAP OPERA.
Dad: You have a weird brain that comes up with weird things, you know?
Dad: Don’t even blame me for that brain. I think that’s all your mother’s doing.
Me: Wait, so how’s it going? Is Helper Mule coming out of his shell? Does he love his new friend?
Dad: I don’t know. All I know is, the mule won’t come anywhere near anyone but my buddy’s wife.
Me: Hey! Soon, there will be THREE friends. Helper Mule, his lady-friend, and her bastard child.
Dad: Yeah, it’s quite the little menagerie over there.
Me: You should go and check it out.
Dad: I don’t want to. It’s starting to make me nervous. It’s like a zoo.
Me: I LOVE ZOOS. We’re so going over there this summer.
Dad: Yes. Yes, of course we are.
Me: And by then there will be THREE FRIENDS! Also, I will bring Helper Mule carrots, and Helper Mule whisper him, and it will be the best.
Dad: He’ll bite your hand and steal those carrots.
Me: You underestimate my skills, yo.
Dad: Are you from the street right now?
Me: Yes.
Dad: I’m so proud.

So are we all the most excited about this weird turn of events? Now there is unhelpful Helper Mule, and his lady-friend, who’s pregnant for some reason, and her soon-to-be-born bastard child. I think Helper Mule will fall in love with her, and adopt that child. This is going to be great. Unless her baby-daddy comes back. LOOK OUT HELPER MULE. Baby-daddies can be TROUBLE. Oh, wait, this is going to be on Maury or some such shit, isn’t it? What will I WEAR. I think my best tubetop is at the CLEANERS.

ZOMG how did I miss this episode? THIRTY-FOUR MEN? What?!?!?

I’m hoping Dad’s friend will send photos, because I so want to see Helper Mule’s lady-friend in real life and not just imagine her from pregnant mare photos I found on the interwebs.

OK, so there’s your random crap for the day! Enjoy your Saturday. I hope you’re all out frolicking and whatnot. I’m toiling away answering all the phones. But as soon as that’s done – WHOO! No plans and schemes this weekend, lots of work, but it’s all fun work that I’ll love doing, so it won’t SEEM like work. That’s the best kind of work, right?

Happy day, all, happy day!

Everything’s shiny, Cap’n. Not to fret.

OK, I am officially writing this from my new laptop.

Ooh! Aah! New laptop!


Here’s a list of pros and cons I have discovered in the past hour of working with the new laptop:


  • WHOA it is fast compared to that piece of shit I’ve been working with! I can have MORE THAN ONE WINDOW OPEN AT A TIME. I know! It makes things a lot easier, being able to have more than one browser tab open at once.
  • It’s portable. (Well, it will be next week. More on that later.)
  • I feel more writery owning one.
  • It’s NEW. New things are happy.


  • The keys are smaller than I’m used to and not all of the things are in the same place so I keep typoing.
  • I can’t figure out how to use the mousepad. Seriously, if someone can explain to me how to cut and paste text from a webpage using a mousepad on a laptop, that’d be great. I’m pretty sure it’s something simple I’ve overlooked, like the time I got my cellphone and couldn’t figure out why it wouldn’t turn on and it was because it was locked and I didn’t realize you had to drag the unlock bar over and the instructions didn’t even mention that because it was assumed any yahoo understood that and then I felt idiotic. (UPDATE UPDATE OH SNAP I TOTALLY SOOOLLLVED IT YO! I feel like an ASTRONAUT.)
  • I keep turning on the capslock by accident. Luckily, I’m Amy, so probably no one will notice.
  • I can’t leave my bedroom because it has to be hooked up to the internet cable because TIME WARNER CABLE ARE A BUNCH OF ASSHATS
  • I accidentally click on things I shouldn’t because I’m confused by this mousepad situation.

I’ll learn. I’m a learner. It’s my first night with it, cut me some slack, Jack.

OK, so here’s the Time Warner Cable sitch. Hee! Sitch. I’m all street right now.

I called Time Warner on Friday. I blogged about that. I said, hey, Time Warner! I’m getting a new laptop Sunday. Can you hook a gal up with the wireless? And they were all, no problem, drive on down to our store, get a router. And I was all, can’t! Can’t get out of work in time to make your business hours! And they, again, were all, no problem! We’ll UPS you one now. It’s on the way, you’ll have it by Tuesday.

So I’ve been sitting here with my shiny laptop for DAYS, just gathering dust. WAITING AND WAITING.

Yesterday! Ran home! NO ROUTER. I was sad panda. NO! WORSE! I was SAD OWL. Did you see Sad Owl yet?

Sad owl is so sad it makes your heart hurt, seriously.

But I was sure today I’d have it. I mean, they promised! Right? RIGHT?

Got home, NO ROUTER.

Listen, for all of my ranting and raving, I’m usually pretty rational. BUT I WANT TO PLAY WITH MY NEW LAPTOP DAMMIT. I scrimped and saved for this puppy. You don’t even know the hardship that old computer was causing. YOU HAVE NO IDEA. A regular post should take probably 2 hours? They were taking at least 4, because it froze up. Constantly. I NEEDED MY LAPTOP.

So I IMMEDIATELY stomped up the stairs, told Dumbcat “no time for love, Dr. Jones” when he wanted to cuddle, and called Time Warner.

What happened next was such a clusterfuck of dumbassery I can’t even describe. SUCH A CLUSTERFUCK I AM USING THE WORD FUCK. But I’ll try. For you, I will.

First, you have  to deal with the voice recognition part of the fun.








Wireless service.


Wireless service.





So first we got Patrick. Yes, this is his real name. I remember it because he made me mad. He was the first of THREE people to make me mad.

Patrick: Thank you for calling Time Warner Cable! This is Patrick, before we get started, just let me verify some information!
Me: OK.
Patrick: What is your name? Last four digits of your social? Address? Phone number? Blood type? Organ donor, yes/no? Can you digest lactose?
(I might have made up some of those.)
Me: (spouts off information in a very pissy tone)
Patrick: GREAT! And how can I HELP you today, Amy?
Me: I was told my router was mailed on Friday for delivery Tuesday. It’s Wednesday. No router. Where’s my router?
Patrick: Before we get to that, we have a great deal on a package we call the Roadrunner Real-Good-Times Package, and…
Patrick: Let me just pull up your account here. Beep beep beep boop! This work order is closed. You have your router.
Me: I can assure you I do not.
Patrick: But the work order is closed.
Me: Well, that’s great. Open that sucker up again, because I don’t have the router.
Patrick: I’m going to have to transfer you to technical support if you’re having trouble with your router.
Patrick: Hold for technical support, please!

Then proceeded two minutes of the LOUDEST HOLD MUSIC you have EVER HEARD IN YOUR LIFE. I put the phone on the arm of the couch and I could STILL hear it.

Then Patrick hung up on me.

So I called back. Listen, I’m the little girl with the little curl right in the middle of her forehead, ok? When I’m good I’m VERY VERY GOOD. But when I’m mad I’m so pissed one look from me could peel paint from the walls. That’s how that rhyme goes, right?

This time I YELLED at the automated system. That didn’t make it understand me any better, but it eventually got me to Deepa in technical support. This is not her real name. I don’t remember her real name. She was Indian, and I knew a lovely woman named Deepa who was Indian once. There you go.

Deepa: Time Warner technical support, this is Deepa, how can I help you?
Me: I ordered a router on Friday, it was supposed to be delivered on Tuesday. It is Wednesday. It is not here. I was told to hold for technical support, but then Patrick put on some really loud hold music and hung up on me.
Deepa: I can see how that would be frustrating. Please verify a metric shit-ton of personal information for me?
Me: UGH FINE. (I do so. AGAIN.)
Deepa: Great. How can I help you today?
Me: Just told you.
Deepa: Yes.
Me: Router. Please check my file. Patrick in customer support said I have it. I obviously don’t, or why would I be bothering you?
Deepa: Just a moment please. Beep beep beep boop! Oh. Oh, dear.
Me: What.
Deepa: You’re going to have to speak to customer service. You don’t have a router. We can’t help you here in technical support.
Me: I KNOW THAT I TOLD PATRICK THAT. Are you transferring me back to Patrick? I think he hates me.
Deepa: Please hold.


Mike: Time Warner Cable, this is Mike, how can I help you?
Me: Mike, did Deepa fill you in on this situation?
Mike: If I could just get some personal information…
Me: OH FOR THE LOVE OF PETE. (Gives it to him)
Mike: Great. How can we help you today?
Me: OK. Here’s the story. I ordered a router on Friday. I was told it would arrive on Tuesday. It’s Wednesday. No router. Patrick in Customer Service said I have it. I don’t. I need the router. What’s happening with this.
Mike: Please hold. I’ll look into this.
Me: NO. OK, no, I call bullshit on this whole thing. Don’t you even DARE put me on hold. Look it up right now. I will wait. I will breathe in your EAR. Look it UP.
Mike: (now using the “this is a crazy person proceed with care” voice that I hate) O…kay…

Mike proceeds, for ten minutes, to type. I don’t know if he was really looking things up or playing Minesweeper or searching for kangaroo porn or writing notes to his coworkers about what a crotch I was being. I DON’T CARE.

Mike: OK, what seems to have happened here, is that it was never mailed.
Mike: I don’t know why. But you ordered it, and the order was placed, but then the ticket was marked closed.
Me: So Time Warner made a mistake.
Mike: We can’t say that’s what happened.
Me: As far as I can tell, two parties were involved: me, and Time Warner. I called Friday to place an order for a router and was assured it went out in the mail the same day. Did I make a mistake?
Mike: No, ma’am.
Me: Then, as a mistake WAS made, and I didn’t make one, I think we CAN say, Mike, that Time Warner made it.
Mike: No. I can’t say that.
Me: OK. Well, that seems suspect. So, how are you going to fix it?
Mike: You can run to the office tomorrow and get a router.
Me: Wouldn’t that be nice? Wouldn’t that fix all that ails us? See, Mike, I would have done that last week, but I work at a tax firm. We don’t get lunches anymore. And my hours are longer than you’re open or closed in that office. So that doesn’t work for me.
Mike: I can UPS you a router. You’d get it next Tuesday.
Me: So, a week from when you promised it last time. How would I know you mailed it?
Mike: I’d UPS it. I could email you a tracking number?
Me: I don’t want a week-late pity-router. What I want is for one of your techs to bring me a router. Right now.
Mike: We’re not a delivery service, ma’am.
Me: Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t ask for a pizza. I know you have night techs out, because I’ve had to use them before. I’m sure one of them has a router and instructions on how to install it in their truck, and I’m sure one of them is in my area. Have them swing by and drop it off. It’ll take five minutes.
Mike: There’s a $49 service charge for a home installation.
Me: I didn’t ask for an installation. I asked someone to bring me a router. And you’ll be waiving any fees related to this situation, as the mistake wasn’t made by me.
Mike: There are no openings for techs until Friday.
Me: You’re telling me no techs could swing by my place and drop off a router. That’s not possible.
Mike: No, ma’am.
Me: I’d like your manager, please.
Mike: Um. Just a minute, ma’am.

(Puts the phone down, types furiously)

Mike: Ma’am, as a one-time and one-time only courtesy, because a mistake was made but I don’t know if we’ll ever know by whom, I can send a tech out to your home. But it won’t be until Friday.
Me: And it will be free. Right, Mike?
Mike: One time. One time only.
Me: Not the best solution, but it will have to do.
Mike: The tech will be there between noon and three on Friday.
Me: Did you want to come into my office for training tomorrow? What time will you be there?
Mike: I’m sorry, ma’am?
Me: I can only assume you, personally, will be covering my job for me while I sit at home waiting for the cable guy?
Mike: That’s the only time the tech can come.
Me: I explained why I couldn’t get the router. For the same reason, I can’t sit in my apartment on a workday waiting for cable installation. If I could, I’d PICK UP THE ROUTER FROM YOUR OFFICE.
Mike: We can also do Saturday morning.
Me: I work Saturdays, too.
Mike: What?
Me: I’m a poor person, Mike, it’s what we do. You can’t possibly tell me you have no evening hours.
Mike: No, I’m sorry, we don’t. We can do Sunday.
Me: Sunday it is.

So: in conclusion. Router was SUSPICIOUSLY NOT MAILED on Friday as promised; no one at Time Warner Cable knows what’s up or will admit any wrongdoing; being firm with them (which I really hate doing, I’m usually a total pushover about things like this because I work the phones and I know how hard it is) had very little effect other than the cable guy is actually going to install the router on Sunday and odds were good I would have screwed that up, so I’m pleased with that.

But otherwise: TIME WARNER CABLE IS LE SUCK. Also, their customer service? Not so grand.

I feel like "the power of you" is not a very good slogan. More like, "the power of us, doing whatever we like to you, as we're the only game in town and we know it."

They kind of have our area in a stranglehold, though. There’s Verizon, but I hear bad things. And Dish Network, but my dad has a dish and it seems to go out a lot. Time Warner really is the best option, and I’m a media hooooor so I need my tv and phone and interwebs.

Doesn’t mean I have to LIKE it, though. Jerks.

(Before you get all “AMY YOU WERE SUCH A DOUCHE TO THE CUSTOMER SERVICE REPS!!!” I think it is important to tell you a bit of the above might have been exaggerated for comedic effect. I won’t tell you which bits. You can decide which ones for yourself, it’ll be like a little puzzle.)


Also, wait til I figure out this webcam thingamabobber, this is going to be GREAT.

Happy Thursday, my little creme brulees!

(PS. This is TOTALLY my THREE HUNDREDTH POST. I know, right? Who would’ve thunk it? THREE HUNDRED, BABY! Thanks for sticking with me, let’s do three hundred more, what do you say?)

Apparently there’s something to the word “birdbrain.” Who knew?

Happy Monday! OK, fine, there’s nothing overly happy about a Monday, I know. Sorry. Happy…um…

Oh, shit, check this out. It is RECONCILIATION DAY.

You thought I was KIDDING! Nope.

Apparently, April 2 is the day Ann Landers set aside in 1989 to:

…patch relationships and to make amends. Its intention is to re-establish relationships between family, friends and couples. Life is too short to hold a grudge between those we love.

Estranged couples may find today to be an opportunity to work out their problems. People who have had a “falling out” with family members are encouraged to reach out and “mend the fence”.

For those considering a reconciliation, the old saying is “It’s never too late”. But, that is not true. Someday, it could be too late. So, please use today to begin your reconciliation.

Ugh. This is way crunchy-granola-touchy-feely, right?

Dear Ann Landers, even though I’m pretty sure you’re dead. Sometimes, the people you’ve had a falling-out with are BEST LEFT FALLEN OUT WITH. Your life is SO MUCH BETTER without those people in it. Sometimes, they try to contact you? And your whole stomach hurts because you wish they would just disappear or maybe move to Zimbabwe where there is no internet. (I don’t know if there’s internet in Zimbabwe. I just like the way that country sounds. ZIMBABWE.)  I don’t want a Reconciliation Day. I want a National Leave Me the Hell Alone, I Made the Right Decision the First Time When I Kicked You to the Curb Day. Let’s do that, OK?

In happier news, today is also National Peanut Butter and Jelly Day. THIS IS A HOLIDAY I CAN GET BEHIND. I’m totally eating PB&J daily lately. It’s like a smile in my lunch bag waiting for me at breaktime.

It’s also International Children’s Book Day and the birthday of Hans Christian Andersen, so if you have a kiddo, you should read them The Little Mermaid, or The Ugly Duckling, or something equally moody and Danish.

This could possibly be the best thing ever photographed. This gave me such a smile.

OK, so celebrate one of these things. That’d be nice. Do that. Or just go to work and drudge drudge drudge, if you must. But I can guarantee you it wouldn’t be as much fun as eating PB&J while reading The Little Mermaid. (Screw the reconciliation garbage, those people can go shit in a hat.)

In other news: three people won the gigantic Mega Millions recently which was up to $640 million dollars. Those people lived in Kentucky, Illinois, and Maryland. As you can see, none of those people live in New York. This made EVERYONE I KNOW VERY CRESTFALLEN. I think that’s humorous, because most of those people? Seemed to think they had a chance of winning. One of my more practical coworkers told me you had a better chance of getting hit by lightning 200 times than winning that lottery drawing. I had a better chance of waking up switched into Dumbcat’s body, as I didn’t play. I feel like playing the lottery is like putting your money to the crack in your car window as you’re driving 90 down the highway. (I mean, WHO DRIVES 90 DOWN THE HIGHWAY SURELY NOT ME.) I think you have a similar chance of payback on your investment with both forms of “spending” your money. I like my money to go toward things that I can touch. Like cheese. And pudding. And cat food. And laptops.

ZOMG the Mega Millions mascot! SO NIGHTMARISH! It's like that Burger King king used to be! GAH!

Anyway, I have friends who live in Maryland. So I’m fairly sure they’re the winners of the Mega Millions, only they’re keeping it on the downlow because they’ve posted on Facebook since the drawing and made no mention of it. R. & A., since you are now the winners of the Mega Millions, please feel free to donate to my trip to Europe. I will send your soon-t0-be-born daughter and my unofficial niece MANY EUROPEAN SOUVENIRS. Also, instead of me taking the Amtrak to see you this summer, maybe you could drive me there in a stretch Hummer. I always wondered what kind of assholes rode in those. I WOULD LIKE TO BE ONE OF THOSE KIND OF ASSHOLES, R. AND A.

This is totally not a post with a point. Listen, the sooner I get this shit written, the sooner I can get out of these sleepy pajamas, put on some clothes, and go laptop shopping. CUT ME SOME SLACK JACK.

Oh, two new people I know in REALLY REAL LIFE are reading the blog. Let’s say hi to N., who is a wonderful website designer and actor and human being and about to become a dad, I just found out! HI N.! And also K.! Listen, K. reading this makes me super-smiley-happy. K. and I used to work together at the animal shelter, many moons ago. She was my favorite coworker. Here is a story. I feel like I told you all this once before but my search tab isn’t being helpful. Well, if you heard this before, you can stop me. Oh, wait, you can’t. Oh, well, skip over it or whatever. Or don’t, it’s really funny.

K. was in charge of accounts payable and receivable and I was in charge of the reception area at the humane society. So we were the two working at the front most of the time, and the other people were in the back with the animals. So when things were slow, we’d chat.

One day, she was all, “Amy?” and I came in, and she said, “Look at this pile of applications the boss gave me,” and we were hiring, and there was a pile, and I said, “OK,” and she said, “now read the response to ‘have you ever been charged with a felony’ on this one.”

Some guy had written “Yes, I killed my best friend and was arrested for it. I’M SO SO SORRY.”

K. and I just looked at each other and tried to have serious faces for about fourteen seconds but then we just busted out laughing until we were CRYING and SNOTTY because WHO WRITES SOMETHING LIKE THAT. I mean, maybe it was a drunk driving incident, or something like that. Fine. Things happen. But why did he PHRASE it like that? You don’t PHRASE it like that. You write “Yes, 2010, vehicular manslaughter, please inquire for details” or something equally professional. “I’M SO SO SORRY?” Oh, so awful. So sad and awful.

So we laughed until we cried, and then for WEEKS we were all, “I’m SO SO SORRY” to each other and that’s all it took to set us off into giggle fits. It bears note that K. and I were not children. I was in my mid-twenties and K. was – hell, I’m awful with ages. Mid-forties? GIGGLE FITS. Like TEENAGERS.

We knew it wasn’t funny. Which is why it was funny.

K. and I still write letters to each other. With PEN! And PAPER! And I told her about the blog, and she wrote that she’s reading it! And I said, hey, someday I’ll say hi to you, K.! So, hi, K.! I miss working with you every day. You will always be one of the best people I’ve ever worked with in the history of ever. You always got my insane humor, and could calm me down when I was stompy. Also, you loved animals as much as I did, and were totally there the day I found Dumbcat for the first time. I MISS YOU, K.!

Two more things, then I’m hitting the hay. OK, there’s no real hay. It’s METAPHOR hay.


Please interject happy cheers and whoo-hoos and clapping and such…NOW.

It is just about the cheapest one they had at Best Buy (which is totally the Buy More from Chuck, bee tee dubs. I’ve totally never been in a Best Buy before. I know, it’s like I’m not even Merkan. But most of the Geek Squad looked a LOT more like Jeffster than like Chuck. That was a major letdown.)

More this...

...than this. Just saying.

BUT I am ASSURED it will do what I need it to, which is a., word process (ALSO, was anyone aware that buying Microsoft Word was A HUNDRED EFFING DOLLARS? I wasn’t buying CRACK COCAINE for the love of Pete. I was buying WORD PROCESSING SOFTWARE!), b., get on the interwebs so I can blog, and c.,  have a webcam so I can FINALLY use Skype like a normal human being.

I don’t have wireless for it until Tuesday or Wednesday, so until then, it’s a very pretty gunmetal gray box that makes pretty musical notes when I boot it up? But NEW LAPTOP! That cost AS MUCH AS MY RENT!

I’ve never bought anything that cost as much as my rent all at once in my life. That total almost made me have an aneurysm, and also on the way to my car I was sure I was going to be mugged by hoodlums. Possibly those teen hoodlums at the mall I keep hearing about.

THEN, when I got HOME, my parents had the following story for me:

Mom: You are never going to guess what is HAPPENING here.
Me: No. Probably not.
Mom: A BIRD is smashing over and over into our WINDOW.
Me: What? Why?
Mom: We don’t know. We think it’s deranged.
Me: Explain, please.
Mom: There is a robin with a VERY SHIFTY LOOK IN ITS EYE and it sits in the tree. Then it flies to the window. Then it flies up, and BASHES into the window. It’s been doing it every 2-3 minutes for five hours.

Sure, it LOOKS innocent, until it gets all WINDOW-BASHY.

Me: What? Why isn’t it dead?
Mom: We don’t know. Your father went outside to shoo it away but it ignored him.
Me: Oh, I bet he didn’t like that.
Mom: No. He wants to open the window, let it in the house, then it will get disoriented. Then he will open the back door and fly out there and get lost so it can’t find the front window again.

(Then I heard in the background my dad saying “YOU ARE TELLING HER ALL THE GOOD STUFF GIVE ME THE PHONE!”)

Dad: That dumb bird. I want to shoot it.
Me: No. You can’t shoot a robin. You’d kill spring. That’s like a sign of spring.
Dad: Good. At least then I wouldn’t have to hear that thing smacking into my window every few minutes. Can you even believe it ignored me?
Me: That’s very insubordinate of it, yes.
Dad: Also, it keeps rubbing up against the siding, so it has white stuff all over its feathers. Then it runs into the window. Now the window is all smeared with white stuff.
Me: Maybe it’s poo.
Dad: It’s not POO. There’s no POO on the window.
Me: I don’t know. I’m not there.
Dad: I’m going to put you on speaker so you can hear this.
Me: I trust you. I don’t have to hear a kamikaze bird.
Me: I don’t know, I’m not THERE. Am I?
Dad: No.
Me: OK. Then I’m not. Did you hit the speaker button?
Me: Sorry. Guess it’s because I wasn’t on speaker.
Me: I don’t KNOW, Dad. Am I on speaker now?
Dad: Yes. Shh. Listen.

(We then had five minutes of him saying “shh…shhh…DID YOU HEAR THAT?” over and over. I heard NOTHING.)

Dad: You’re just pretending you don’t hear that.
Me: Why would I do that? That seems like a mean prank to pull.
Dad: It IS April Fools’ Day.
Me: I assure you, if I wanted to be a douchebag I could do better than that.
Dad: Yeah, probably. Why do you think this bird is doing this? I think it’s someone’s pet that’s escaped and it was tested on by the government.
Me: That seems unlikely.
Dad: Oh, you don’t know the half of it.
Me: Hey, this is like that movie The Birds. Only it’s an indie version. On a low budget. It’s The Bird. It’s not very scary and no one would go to see it.

Hee! This was totally the scene at my house today.

SIDE NOTE: Dad called me up at 8pm, so about four hours later, and told me, in a VERY CONSPIRATORIAL WHISPER (I assume as to not WAKE the bird) that it had stopped the window-bashing. When I asked where the bird was, he said, “It’s in the tree, asleep. I’m keeping an eye on it.”

I’ll keep you updated with the saga of the bird. This is very exciting. I think it might have been sent by Helper Mule, honestly. Or it’s a sign of the apocalypse. Either way.

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