In Defense of Survivor

I know, I know, this time they've gone too far... they split them into 4 teams based on race & ethnicity. I can sort of see why people are up in arms about this, but the way I see it... they're being up-front and HONEST about it. They're taking a significant risk (which is pretty impressive for one of the Big Three). And for the most part, the players don't seem at all upset about it! Probably because they know that these teams will be short lived, and they'll soon be mixed up and recombined into new teams.

But it is SO interesting! As a regular watcher who has only ever missed 2-3 episodes in the entire history of this series, we're only 2 episodes into this new season and I'm completely fascinated all over again like I was in the beginning. For, me, it's always been about the social experiment. I've always been drawn to the whole "What If..." of survival situations; who excels, who fails, how would I act in such a situation, etc.

But now, one of the most frustrating aspects of the game - the playing of the race card - has, at least temporarily, been removed. You can't blame your tribemates for racial prejudice against you if you're all of the same race! And only 2 episodes in, we see that even without that excuse, people are already becoming frustrated and making judgment calls against teammates they don't like. The game goes on.

I will admit one danger of this - stereotyping races based on their success in challenges. The Asian team won that challenge because they're smart... the Hispanic team won that challenge because they're hard workers... I find myself thinking these things. But at the same time, I find myself cheering for the black women who, when their remaining guy fails to start a fire, struggle on and succeed in doing so. I'm usually rooting for the women. :)

The tribalism/team cohesiveness that has evaporated over the course of this series as people get rid of strong teammates so they won't have to fight them later is, albeit sporadically, back in evidence. Sure, the Hispanic team just deliberately threw a challenge so they could rid themselves of a lazy, uncooperative teammate, but in most respects the teams are feeling the desire to represent themselves and their people in the best possible light. The younger members of the Asian team are feeling some frustration with their older hippie member because he persists in making racist jokes... about Asians! And they keep trying to persuade him to stop.

But even with ethnic bonding, each person is playing the game for themself. They will still get rid of someone they perceive as a threat to their own success.

Preparing For the Worst

I grew up at Nashville's Belmont Church in the 70s-80s, and the topic of Christ's return and the Tribulation was a regular topic; mom was seriously reading up on biblical prophecy, all the main writers on the End Times, Constance Cumbie, you name it. We even went so far as to consider buying a farm so we'd be prepared - I remember walking the fields of one property we looked at. She had books on edible plants (there was a recipe for batter-fried Queen Anne's Lace!) and would tell us all about the various evil things she'd learned about the New Age Movement.

As a result, I did not believe that I would live to grow up. I remember doing the math... I was 13, and if we lived through the 7 years of the end times (which in my fatalism I was inclined to believe; that the rapture would come at the end) I MIGHT live to be 20, and get to be married if I was lucky.

I'm 37 now, and have mostly forgotten those miserable years of high school and being scared that THIS DAY might be the one where it All Began... being terrified that the 40 years from the time when Israel was restored was THIS YEAR, and so it would surely begin now... I grew up scared, and am scared to this day; not of the end times, but of everything else in life that I now have to deal with.

Why am I saying all this? I don't know, precisely... I mean, I believe in preparedness if there is definitive proof that disaster is coming, but I learned to live my life as though disaster was always imminent, and you know what? It sucks. And it bleeds into other areas of my life too.

I'm not wise enough about these sorts of things to say whether disaster from our enemies is imminent - I know that plenty of knowledgeable people say it is. But 20 years ago they were certain it was on the horizon, and during the Bay of Pigs it was at their very door. So I don't buy anything from anybody, anymore, be it pundits or journalists or academics who really, really know what they're talking about, and I especially don't believe modern prophets - we had plenty of them back when I was 13 too... I have enough other things to be scared of in this world, like whether or not I might choke to death in my apartment and not be discoved until 3 days later.

La la la la la!

Gift vs. Need

OK, I spent last night updating my Amazon.com WishList, because the list of Stuff I Need But Can't Afford is getting longer every month, and I'm hoping that friends & family who are contemplating presents for me for the month of December (Birthday: Dec 3; Xmas: Dec 25) will take a moment to consider these guidelines:

1. I am a recovering packrat
2. I live in a tiny apartment
3. The apartment is already full of stuff

I honestly can't accommodate anything that isn't essential or highly prized. At the same time, there are always many crucial things I need, yet amazingly no one ever thinks to get them for me. Instead, I always seem to get lots of notecards... very pretty, but folks, I design my own! I have literally hundreds of notecards right now. It will take me the next DECADE to exhaust the supply.

Here's what I really need:

1. Body work on my car - a utility pole jumped out and gouged the passenger side of my Corolla and snapped off the mirror. Frankly, it hurts to look at it.
2. 2-4 new tires. I put a LOT of miles on my car with making house calls, and I've been skidding a lot lately on wet roads.
3. 512 RAM for my pitiful Dell Dimension 2400. It's barely functional at present.
4. Laptop with wireless. As I am continually on the road around Nashbrentfrank, it would be fantastically useful to be able to work on researching solutions for clients and web design when I have an hour or 2 to kill between jobs.
5. Gift cards to Jiffy Lube, Mapco Express, Target, Publix, TJ Maxx, Sonic, Taco Bell, and The Stitchin' Post.

For all those women who get hurt when their husbands give them a blender or a new vaccuum cleaner on their anniversary, let me just say that you need to SHUT UP. I can't get a practical gift to save my life!

Bwah Ha ha ha!

Genetics has finally smiled on me. I just got back my test results from my doctor (see my "Needless" post a week or so back) and my blood is simply fantastic. Supermodel fantastic.

Quote: "Your cholesterol profile was excellent!" (I had expressed a pre-emptive opinion that it would be bad.)

[maniacal, vindicated laughter here]

Everything tested for was normal - glucose levels, blood counts, sodium, potassium, calcium, kidney functions, etc. As a Fatty Boombalatty, living on fast food primarily and next to no exercise whatsoever, it would be expected that my cholesterol, in particular, would be through the roof. Not so, apparently; my dear doctor says that (like sex appeal) you either "have IT" or not.

Test Results
Cholesterol: 185 (200 or less is normal)
Triglycerides: 95 (150 or less is normal)
HDL-C: 70 (35 or higher is normal)
LDL-C: 96 (130 or lower is normal)

And so every Disney movie moral comes true, finally: It's what's inside that counts.

I am a cholesterol GODDESS.

Rare Email

I rarely get Good forwarded emails, and I try to show discretion in what I forward on, but I really liked this one:

Women are like apples on trees. The best ones are at the top of the tree. Most men don't want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt. Instead, they sometimes take the apples from the ground; they aren't as good, but easy.

The apples at the top think something is wrong with them, when in reality, they're amazing. They just have to wait for the right man to come along, the one who is brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree.

Not Funny At All

The Crocodile Hunter, Steve Irwin, is dead.

Sure, his whole dangerous animal schtick was good for a laugh, but I find this so very sad, because he's leaving behind a wife and 2 small children. And that's never funny. My father Edmond Alexander Lynds died of leukemia when I was 3, and even though my mom remarried and Chuck legally adopted us and raised me and my 2 sisters, he was not a good replacement for the dad I had lost. Those babies won't ever really know their dad (well, except for infinite hours of videotape, which I'd kill for!)

Needless

So I don't have anything in particular to post at present, but I am blessed by a moment of idleness at work, so feel it incumbent upon me to put something new on the site so that those who may check with any regularity will not feel entirely neglected. All 9 of you.

Let's see - went to the doctor for a full physical this week, had some blood work done... Ah! a topic presents itself:

I had a particularly sadistic pediatrician as a child. I'm sure he was no worse than other pediatricians of his era, but me and my sisters were all traumatized by what seemed excessive Needling, and one of my few childhood memories is of seeing my sister Amy pass out while having her finger pricked, as she was being held by the nurses. Followed by a memory of having a shot in my thigh for an ear infection, and screaming and trying to push away the nurse's hands.

After this childhood immunizations were done with, my mom felt that we had been tortured enough, and we didn't set foot in that office for years. In our teens, we were "taken in" by one of the kindest, most excellent pediatricians in Nashville (Dr. Lentz) but the damage had been done, and our phobia of needles was fully grown. From that point on, the doctors office was to be avoided at all costs unless I was fairly certain the issue at hand didn't require a Needle.

I should mention at this point that this fear didn't extend to Dentistry; we had a wonderful dentist as children and even now, I'm often so relaxed in the dentist chair that I can doze off briefly.

ANYway, I managed to get the dreaded tetanus shot for college, but had avoided all other Needling until I applied for Grad Schools in my mid-twenties, when a blood test was required for one of my applications. No no no no no. No. [wail] Don't wanna! [/wail] But it must be done. And by this time of my life, I had figured out that avoidance of fears only bred more fears and trouble for the future, so I made arrangements at the school infirmary.

This was a good thing, I discovered. It didn't feel like a doctor's office, and the nurse who was drawing blood was an acquaintance from campus, so I didn't feel so intimidated - it felt more ordinary. And I had decided that I needed to be distracted from the process as much as possible, so I asked her if I could sing while she did it, which tickled her. So I belted out "Summertime" from Porgy and Bess, which suitably distracted my mind from the task at hand. And I discovered that having blood taken wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as a shot.

But what was even better was the absolute EUPHORIA I felt once it was over; I had DONE the dreaded thing! I've never been one for setting goals or overcoming obstacles, and I am quite content to let most impasses stay impassive. But wow! The feeling of accomplishment over that one little Needle was phenomenal. I floated around for over 24 hours. Each year since then, it has become less and less of an ordeal to be feared, and more of a "oh darn" situation... I still don't like it and would avoid it whenever possible, but if it is required, I don't fall into a depression or sleeplessness for a week beforehand anymore.

I did have one setback a few years back - now that I didn't dread the process so much, I felt like I could finally give blood without panicking, so I signed up at the Red Cross and went over during lunch one day. It... did not go well. All was fine until they'd disconnected me and I was having a little can of juice. I asked them if I could have some more grapefruit juice, and they looked at me oddly and said, "We don't have any grapefruit juice, we only have orange juice." Odd, I thought, and then dreamed of jam, Entertainment Weekly, bees and whatnot, at which point three figures in white stood over me saying "Susan? Susan!"

I came to with a sickening rush, and realized I had passed out. My feet were propped up, and I felt cold and sick. They gave me all the usual stuff - more juice, cookies - but I could not get up without feeling dizzy. They finally asked me if they could shift me over to a place by the wall, as they needed my station. Techs who had gone on a coffee and smoke break returned and said "what, you're STILL here?"

Finally, we decided to put me in a wheelchair and roll me out to my friend's car (thank GOD I had asked him to come along at the last minute!) where I laid down in the back seat, and he drove me home after running by Wendy's for a supersized meal for me. I was weak and wobbly for the next 36 hours. I've never given blood again since.

Have I ever mentioned my terror of passing out...? No?

Thinking You Are Something, And It Turns Out You Aren't

I was just remembering back almost 10 years ago... 9 years and 9 months, actually. I had been working for a year in the Computer Connection on the Belmont campus, and had finally reached the end of my ability to live on $1000 a month. I had let it be known I'd like to find a computer support job to the one person I knew in the field (brother Cy). It ultimately led to an interview and job offer with the William Morris Agency, which was far and away more than I had ever thought of for myself.

But it also wasn't what I'd really wanted, either. It was a corporate job, which meant responsibility and dress codes and loss of freedom. It was, to my way of thinking, the end of any Creative Dreams I might have had (which were vague at best) just for the Almighty Dollar. But I knew I absolutely had to do it; my student loans were coming due, my credit card debt was high, and I couldn't afford to live any longer on $8.04 an hour.

But I sobbed when I got off the phone with the HR person who offered me the job... because I really felt like it was the end of my ambitions; a job contrary to everything I was meant to be. I had just finished my 2nd major in theater, having had the intention to teach high-school drama. But I found out along the way that I was unwilling to go to any school other than Belmont which was safe and comfortable to me, and then when I applied to Grad School, the only programs I was accepted to were at Northwestern, with no assistantship or financial aid, and Austin Peay, which was pitiful. Funny - now that I look back, I have no idea when I decided that I would just give up Grad School entirely; it obviously didn't give me any pain to give up all the preparatory work I had done for auditions, resumes, letters of recommendation, etc. because I don't remember it at all.

I did take a year to try and "make it" as a working actor in Nashville with a variety of part-time jobs & housesitting. I don't think I got a single paying gig. I even had an agent, who sent me on 2 auditions, and then never called again. I slipped out of that idea easily too, and started helping people with their home computers as I was learning skills at the campus store. But I still clung to the idea that I was Creative, and that I should be in The Arts; everyone else seemed to think so too, even though I had by then realized that my performing talents were mediocre at best. But I expressed myself so... expressively! dramatically! Surely that meant I was supposed to be an actor...

So I took the System Administrator job at WMA, promising myself I'd only have to do it for 2 years till I could pay off my debts and student loans. I honestly didn't know how I could endure it. But I loved it - it was perfect for me, and I stayed until they asked me to leave, for reasons which still elude me. 8 years of almost flawless evaluations... oh well. The job had done its purpose - it had taken away the illusion that I was purely right-brain, and taught me how to use my left-brain.

So now 10 years later, looking at the person I've morphed into, and looking back at the person I thought I was... I wonder if I'm about to turn out to be something else again. Anyone who knows me well knows that one of my greatest fears is being called to the mission field. I can rattle off a list of Places I Don't Want To Go faster than people can think of where they'd like to go on their dream vacation. Uncomfortable, unfamiliar, unsafe - that's what I equate with missions, and despite the fact that I don't think I have a talent for it, fear getting sick in a 3rd world country, and hate the idea of giving up my safe and comfortable existence, I'm always ready to assume that I'm going to be "made" to do it someday.

It turns out I wasn't an actor. Maybe it will turn out that I'm not a computer geek. Maybe it will turn out that I'm another thing altogether.

Sampling

It really amazes me how an artistic or intellectual passion feeds opportunities... I'm part of a loose confederation of women who get together every Thursday night to do cross-stitch and embroidery, and I've been doing it for a couple of years now. My friend Jen Core has a degree in Folk History with a specialization in created practical "art", which tends towards antique textiles. Anyway, she has started a survey research project called the Tennessee Sampler Survey, in which she is trying to document at least 150 samplers of Tennessee origin from before 1900. Jen hears about them or people contact her, then she professionally photographs, documents, and researches the samplers. I've attended 2 of her talks on the subject - she shows slides and talks about the similarities, the regional differences, etc. - and it's just fascinating.

Last fall, Jen and I had the idea of creating a sampler that would take elements from some of the prettiest samplers she's collected, and that we'd make it a group project - each month she'd design us a new band, and there'd be 10-12 bands that we'd work on over the course of 2006. There are a dozen women doing it in Nashville, and about that many in Knoxville. Each woman is given the charts and color codes, but you can make any changes in color or stitch you prefer, always keeping in mind that we want to try and keep it within the realm of work typical to Tennessee, but also allowing personal taste and preference. I may be one of the few to actually try and stick to her original design as closely as possible... and even I've departed more than 2-3 times from the original!

Anyway, we've already begun to make plans for a few museum and art guild showings of all of the completed samplers, as well as some of her photos and research of the survey, and I think it could go further as well... I'm hoping some grant money might be forthcoming for the TSS. I'm about 2/3 done with mine, and as you can see there's some blocks I still have to fill in. This is what we call a Band sampler, and it's VERY long compared to modern samplers. I doubt I'll ever be able to frame it, it'll be so wildly expensive! It's funny; individual elements aren't that pretty to most of us - we've all done motifs we liked better - but when you stand back and look at the combined work, it really grows on you (if you LIKE that sort of thing).

A Very Special Day

Today is a very special day for me. "Why?" you might ask, if you cared to; "why is this a special day, Susan?"

Today is the one-year anniversary of my House Calls Computer business! I have survived, I have scraped by, I have learned, I have grown, blah blah blah. It has been one of the best years of my life, although not without it's pains and difficulties.

I have my friend Sally Higgs to thank; it was her idea, and I'm just grateful she told it to me, because I had no thought of it at the time. I called her up today to thank her for having said that it was something she thought I'd be good at, and inspiring me to try it, and she was completely surprised; she didn't realize that she sparked it!

I also want to thank Eric Wyse for letting me work on his office computers when I was still learning my way, and Daystar Counseling for being the most relentlessly appreciative and encouraging clients I've ever had. And if I had not begun this business, I wouldn't have gotten to know the Searfosses, the Granberys, the Epsteins, the Solareks, and the Stewarts. How infinitely poorer I should have been!

I NEED A VA-CAAAAY-TION!

I've been working non-stop since January, except for July 4th. I need a vacation. But how this is to be achieved, I do not know. My dilemma is trifold:

1. Money - don't have any. Won't have any.
2. Time - if I take a week to go somewhere, that's a week without any income. Which, as stated above, I am lacking in.
3. Company - no-one available. This used to be a non-issue since I preferred to go to the beach on my own, but after 10 years of doing so, the novelty has worn off and after 3 or 4 days I get bored on my own. And even if there was a friend available to go, I don't have any friends that I'm close enough to to be confident of a fun time after the first 24 hours. I'd love to go with my sisters and their kids, but they already went to the beach together back in the spring. Without me.

*sigh* I guess I'll take a 4 day weekend and go to my Grandmother's in the Armpit of the Universe, Batesville. There, I will take naps, shop at the Super Wal-Mart, and sit and watch Wheel of Fortune and Who Wants to Be a Millionaire at 6 pm. If there's anything else to do there, somehow, it just won't happen. There's a movie theater there. Do you know how many movies I've seen in Batesville in the last decade? Two. I get in that house, and barely leave it for 3 days.

And the conversations? *sigh* I love my Grandmother, but...

Could this BE any more of a pity party? I think not.

[cheerfulmentalreinforcement] Be glad you have your health... your home... your family... your friends... steady work... Project Runway... [/cheerfulmentalreinforcement]

Handy Household Hints!

So I got one of those emails with all of the "Did you know that hydrogen peroxide will remove blood from clothing?" tips, and I find them fascinating as well as frustrating, since I know that I will be completely unable to remember any of them when the need arises.

• Candles will last a lot longer if placed in the freezer for at least 3 hours prior to burning.
• To clean artificial flowers, pour some salt into a paper bag and add the flowers. Shake vigorously as the salt will absorb all the dust and dirt and leave your artificial flowers looking like new! Works like a charm!

And then I thought... how do we know that any of these are legitimately useful? What if someone's just messing with us? And I came up with these:

• To remove grease stains from jeans, saturate the area with vodka. The enzymes in the alcohol and the blue dye in the denim will break up the grease!
• To remove unused stamps from envelopes, dip the corner of the envelope in ice water & a small amount of lighter fluid for 5 minutes - the stamp will peel off and float to the top of the water!
• To kill weeds, spray windex all over the affected area, and watch them disappear in 24-48 hours!

I mean, who's to say if any of these tips actually work?! Don't these sound plausible? Yet I made them up as I was typing this. All this to say: don't be willfully gullible.

King Arthur

I was just sitting here watching one of my absolute favorite movies, Dave starring Kevin Kline & Sigourney Weaver. I really love this movie, even more than I love "The West Wing" which is another one of those political "works" where realism oozes into idealism every once and a while. Except that Dave oozes into idealism and stays there.

WHY am I so enchanted by this film? Is it because it's a modern-day fairy tale? I think that may be part of the reason. But I think it's primarily because of an essential longing I have for a King Arthur. I've lived with cynicism about politics my whole life, but here in this basic Prince and the Pauper story, we are given a leader with integrity, compassion, intelligence, and an understanding heart. He is a GOOD MAN, and he wants to do what is best, not what is politically expedient.

It's the same reason one of my favorite books is Avalon by Stephen R. Lawhead. It's subtitled The Return of King Arthur, and is a fictional "what if" story where Arthur returns to rule England in modern times. He's got all the same qualities we wish for in a ruler, and have not seen... ever, I guess.

I guess there've been some enlightened despots along the path of history who have been rulers you could follow and trust with your whole heart - King Alfred comes to mind - but the fact that the word "despot" has a negative connotation indicates that probably 99% of the despots of history were evil or self-seeking. But in actuality, Plato (or Socrates, I forget which) said that not democracy, but an enlightened despotism was the best form of government. Democracy/Republicanism (not the party but the form of government) is only the best form of government that is actually ACHIEVABLE.

CS Lewis often refers to the return of King Arthur in his writings, and I've only come to realize why in recent years... he's the ruler we all wish we had, but won't have until the end of time.

Puffy Foot

I suffer from a rare condition I choose to call Puffy Foot. It means that my left foot & ankle are Perpetually Puffy. It's not an attractive condition although it's painless and I can't detect any disabilities as a result of it. And yes, I've had it checked out and scanned and there's nothing they can find that's causing it. I've had it about 5 years now.

There is one major drawback to this: shoe shopping is a bitch. It is impossible for me to find a pair of shoes that fit both feet well. Flip-flops and other thong sandals are the best solution, but that only works for about 6 months of the year. The rest of the time I am forced to wear a right shoe that is too loose, and a left shoe that is too tight. I have to discard over 75% of the shoes I try on as a result. What I really wish is that I could buy shoes in different sizes - a Size X.5 for my left foot, and a size X for my right. (Yeah, like I'm telling you my shoe size!)

And when I do find a shoe that fits my left foot, there's the problem of "does it look OK?" Certain styles are positively horrific, as they press the Puff upward, leaving a roll of flesh above the leather. (Isn't that a lovely mental image?) Sure, it might fit, but it looks like I've recently eaten a bowl of salt.

I found out recently that my maternal grandmother has the same condition. Just the left foot; not both. Once again, family genetics has "blessed" me with an undesirable trait. Massive quantities of moles? Check. Thin, fine hair? Check. The physique of a 19th C. Austrian farmwife? Check. Excessive fondness for baked goods? Check.

The Cutest Thing EVER

OK, I know you're not supposed to play favorites with your nieces and nephews... but honestly, she's the youngest one - The Last Baby - and she can just be so damn cute sometimes... my other nieces are in Knoxville, so I've never gotten to take care of them the way I have Emma.

Anyway - she was in a wedding this weekend, and with a 3-year-old, that can be Delightful or Dreadful. Fortunately, she was quite the little professional when onstage, and only lapsed into rampant misbehavior when required to sit in the pews during the ceremony.

She's an avid Princess fanatic, with an addiction to the Disney princess product line. She wants to be one, she wants to hear about them, she loves a nice tiara, you name it. So this was right up her alley. More pictures available here.

In Which I Reluctantly Join MySpace.com

So, Friend Frank from my days at Hillsboro High sends me an email today mentioning that there's a number of SophistiCats on myspace, and I should join. (The SophistiCats were a very advanced show choir & chamber singers group I was in throughout high school, and pretty much the only worthwhile thing about high school for me!) Plus my friends Paul et Cherie have occasionally pestered me to join so they can add me to their Friends... apparently one's myspace dignitas is dependent on how many Friends (clients, a la Roman Empire) one can claim.

So I set up my profile (suhouladoo) and begrudgingly wrote a few lines about myself, and made a discovery: one should not fill out one's online profile when one is in a bad mood. One is apt to say things that will not reflect well upon oneself. oneoneoneoneoneoneoneone.

And yet, not off-putting enough, apparently - two total strangers sent me Friend invites within a half-hour of setting up my profile. Apparently my comment that I wasn't there to make new friends or meet anyone had a different effect than I had intended. I shall have to re-edit and be more obvious about my lack of interest in making random Friends.

I really had thought that listing my remorselessly geeky Interests of Ballroom Dance, Bollywood, Embroidery & Cross-stitch, reading and Doctor Who would be sufficient to shake off all but the most Worthy and Perceptive of Friend-wannabes. I guess I'll have to put in the one piece of information that is the kiss of death: my current weight and height.

A Day of Frustrations

I hate not being able to fix things, and I hate failure.

So the last 24 hours have been rather disheartening. Of the semi-Burst-Into-Tears-on-the-Least-Provocation category of Disheartening. I thought maybe if I listed the specifics I might get a sense of the actual scope of my failures, as opposed to a general Everything-Sucks malaise.

1. Can't get my living room TiVo to dial in. I have tried countless times, going so far as to bring it to Elder Sister's house to use THEIR phone system. All to no avail.
2. A web design client from 8 months back went with another designer without any notice (that I can recall) and (very politely) won't pay for the 3 hours I spent on her site.
3. Another web design client isn't entirely happy with what I've done in a beta format, and I sense he wants something more sophisticated than I am capable of.
4. I haven't had time to work on 2 other client websites, and I don't want to right now.
5. I spent 4.5 hours this morning on a home wireless network job that should have taken 1 hour, and the problem STILL isn't fixed; so of course, I don't feel like I can charge them; and I don't know where I went wrong with the whole thing.

That's the gist of it; nothing absolutely devastating, but enough within 24 hours to cause overall melancholia. Oh, and I was unable to go to my part-time job at Vandy since I spent all morning at a job I can't charge for, and therefore lost 4 hours of legit paying work. [invective]Bugger all.[/invective]

Nuhfing in Particular, Part 2

"In our last episode, Susan discovered a certain fascination with an indefinable accent of the charming, working-class Rose Tyler from Doctor Who."

So I was watching the first episode of Season 2 titled "New Earth," and a bit of slang was used that made me (and my QuickTime software) pause. Rose, being temporarily "possessed" by a snobby spirit named Cassandra, took a look at herself in a mirror and burst out with a dismayed "Oh my God, I'm a chav!"

A chav? What on earth is a chav? I was mightily intrigued. I dashed to my computer, and once again, Wikipedia served me far better than I could have imagined. Read on:

The description fits Rose to a T, and goes into all sorts of detail about accent, fashion, cultural tendencies, etc. Absolutely fascinating - sortof like a British version of a Jersey Girl, I guess...? So when I resumed the episode and several minutes later, Cassandra re-assumed Rose's body, looked down at herself, and sarcastically snarled "oh, Chavtastic!" my pop cultural anglophilic joy knew no bounds, and I clapped and squealed, since I know knew what she meant.

Damn, I love the Brits.

7/15 Mike in MI has directed me to a far more alarming series of definitions about what "chav" is on urbandictionary.com. Not so funny anymore...

Travails with Tivo

I love my Tivo very much, as anyone who knows me well should be aware of. Like many of my other passions, such as:

• Bollywood,
• Haayo Miyazaki movies,
• Doctor Who,
• Ballroom Dancing,

I am prone to evangelistic fervor. I want everyone to share my enjoyment of said entertainments.

Well, I have been having difficulty with my TiVo of late... ever since I switched to the ridiculously cheap Vonage phone service which runs over my cable modem, I have had problems getting my TiVo to successfully dial in to download updates. Because Vonage can't seem to work with the phone wiring in my apartment, I have had only one functioning phone in my living room, with a very thin 20 foot phone line running across the floor from the phone router under my desk, through the sliding door, onto the porch, and back in through the bedroom porch door. This line is for my TiVo; I watch more TV in my room than I make phone calls.

So I've had the Vonage for a few months now, and was able to get the TiVo to dial in successfully overnight most of the time. Since it stores 2 weeks of upcoming programming data, it's not been a real problem, but a couple of days ago it started warning me that it would run out on Saturday the 15th. I tried everything to get it to dial in and download - called Vonage, tried their online help tips, etc. - nothing worked.

Then I went online and did a search for work-arounds, and found a vast sea of discontented and frustrated former Vonage customers who had found out which I was just learning - Vonage does not play well with TiVo. By typing in a ridiculously long string of dialing prefixes and forcing it to dial a NYC #, I was finally able to get it to make one download. However, the TiVo in the living room, which is newer, still can't get through. It gets halfway into the call and then gets interrupted; by what, I do not know!

So I'm now on the phone with BellSouth (as I have been for over 45 minutes) switching my service back to them. Just a few days ago they sent me the 3rd or 4th "Please please please please come back to us... we'll give you low rates/cash/our first-born child" Letter of Desperation, and so last night I dug it out from under some rotting raspberries and various gooey things in the trash can. They will drop my rates to almost half of what they used to be, which is pretty darn good for the various difficulties Vonage has caused me. The rates will go back up in 12 months, but who knows what advances in technology will happen by then!

Bottom line: If you love your TiVo, don't get Vonage unless you have TiVo with broadband or wireless service.

Yes, I'm still here...

Vacation weeklet! WOOOOOOOOOOOOT! Granted, it's only Friday-Tuesday, and I worked some on Friday, and I sing for about 5 hours Sunday morning EARLY, and I'll probably see about getting some computer work on Monday... but still! Whooooooooo!

I still wish I could have a whole week of vacation... *sigh* Pity poor, poor Susan.

If you're in Nashville and you wanna see something cool, go to the Belcourt Theater @ 3 pm Sunday and get a ticket to Krrish. You'll be glad you did.