I know my title sounds strange, but so was my experience with "the rock!"
It was Thursday evening, and I was hurrying to Horizon Elementary to watch Katie's dance group. When I arrived, there was absolutely no parking. It was crazy! If I owned an open lot over there, I would have opened it up for parking. I'm sure there were plenty of us that would have paid $5.00 to park somewhere near the school.
However, after trying every parking trick I knew, I ended up parking at the bottom of a hill. The hill itself was no problem, but time was. It was 6:10PM and I knew she was performing at 6:20PM, so I walked as fast as my knee hardware could. I reached the edge of the school property, and decided to cut across on the dirt, instead of following the sidewalk. (I should have listened to the words of my dad and my husband...stay on the path!) But, no, I knew I could make it in time if I shaved a couple of minutes off...so camera and purse in hand I took off across the dirt.
That's when I had my encounter of the most "embarrassing" kind. To this day, I am not quite sure what happened, but I do remember my body sailing through the air in slow motion. Remember that science law that says, "A body in motion tends to stay in motion?" Well, THEY WERE STINKING RIGHT!
I had so much momentum going, that I couldn't even begin to stop myself. The next thing I knew, I felt my head hit a rock the size of China, (ok...it was the size of a plate), nevertheless, my head and neck bounced off that thing like a trampoline. Then...nothing.
The next thing I knew, I had this sweet young couple standing over me and asking if I was ok. I was covered with dirt, had smashed my sunglasses, and was throbbing in pain and dizzy...but other than that...I was great! I tried to stand up, which was not a good plan. I now understand how a drunk person feels. I could not stand up straight, or keep my legs from buckling. The kind young man took hold of me, pulled my 600 pounds of flesh off the ground, and sat me on the curb.
Tears, along with my mascara and dirt were falling off my face. Who needs a Halloween costume! The tears were as much from embaraasment, as injury. Several people from the ward walked by, and asked if I wanted a ride home...but I assurred everyone I could drive myself home. This sweet woman and her husband then proceeded to wipe my arms and face off with their baby wipes. That act of kindness, made me cry all the more. I suppose that is why they used "baby" wipes:)
After several minutes of humiliation, I convinced my good samaritans that I was ok. But the husband insisted on holding my hand and helping me down to my car. They made me turn on the air, and take some water to drink. Then, bless their hearts, they followed me home.
Now I suppose there should be a moral to this story, so here it is. Stay on the path! When we venture off the safety of the path, we are in danger of getting lost, or getting hurt. I couldn't help but think of the conference talk I am giving in Relief Society tomorrow. The lesson is on Elder Russell M. Nelson's talk, "Covenants." If we stay on the path ( the Lord's path), we have been promised great blessings. If we stray off the path, or to the edge of the path, we allow Satan to try and tempt us.
I'm not blamming anyone but myself, and my shoes for my fall; but I can't help but wonder if I wouldn't have fallen if I had stayed on the sidewalk. Fortuneately, I was not seriously hurt. I have a knot on the head, 2 terribly bruised knees, a sprain left hand,an appreciation for the kindness of strangers, and a stomped on ego! Maybe I'll go back to the scene of the crime, and bring that rock home to remind me to stay on the path. I hope all of you are on it with me:)
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Don'r Mess With My Stuff!
When I came down the stairs this morning, and turned the corner to the kitchen; I could immediately see something had changed. Someone, who will remain nameless (ok, it was Larry), decided to rearrange things in my computer/solarium/tutoring/scrapbooking room. I WAS TICKED! Not just a little mad, but ready to tear someone's (Larry's) head off. How dare he mess with my stuff!
Would I ever go down to his Barn and rearrange things? No...because I would throw most of it away. Do I rearrange his pigeon lofts, messy office, or heaven forbid... tackle the stack around his chair? The answer is a big fat NO! So is it too much to ask for him to not mess with my stuff?
Ok, I'm going to answer my own questions because I know I'll get the right answers:) First of all, let's take a step or two back in time to Saturday.
For months I have endured his marathon training. I have listened to his glory stories, attended his races, put up signs on Friday, and stood for over 4 hours waiting for him to trot by. And what did he do when he saw me...nothing! No kiss, no hug, no thank you dear for being such a wonderful wife! Oh no, he just jogged on by and waved like he was at a picnic. I wanted to run out, grab his shorts, and pull them over his head.
Then, I go out Monday and buy a frame for him to frame his marthon poster, and hang in his office. Which, by the way, has only a tool belt girl hanging in there.I specifically said, "This is to hang in your office." I get up the next morning, and he has hung it up above the sewing machine! Is this so I can be reminded of it more often?
So, when I discovered his decorating this morning, I could have screamed. I would have kicked something, but I know I would have injured myself for nothing. So back to my questions and answers. I would never rearrange his places, although I am now tempted beyond belief. What would he do if I rearranged his spaces? Probably nothing. He wouldn't notice. But I noticed his little Oprah project, and I am not a happy person.
Long ago, 35 years ago, he should have started to realize a thing about me which is..."DON'T MESS WITH MY STUFF!" Both he, and my boys have had trouble remembering this.
One day, about 15 years ago, I came home and found two of my boys playing with and wearing my sexy linguire. I can't spell it, but you know what I mean. I was so mad at them. Not so much because they were having a great time with it, but because they snooped and got it out of the top of my closet! I decided then and there , that mother's have no privacy. I took all my sexy stuff and threw it all in the garbage can. I'm sure the garbage men had a hayday if they looked in the can. I never again have bought anything even remotely sexy. The thing that was so irritating, is that I had put that stuff in old shoe boxes labeled ,"Old temple clothes." But did that stop them from looking...oh no!
I have hid chocolate, money, books, Christmas, and a variety of other things...and they always find it. Larry knows better than to toss anything of mine, but apparently that message has not worked its way to his frontal lobe yet.
I do not want anyone rearranging my home. It is my castle. I do all the work and upkeep in here. Things are where they are for a reason. Now I cannot get to my scrapbooking stuff, it looks ugly from the living room, and there is a big space with nothing to do with it.
I was hoping blogging would get this out of my system, but it hasn't worked. Maybe I'll go down and rearrange a few tools, benches, or junk in his domain! (Really, I won't because it would be too much work!) So if you see me hanging out my windows, shouting at the sky, you'll know that things have not gotten back to normal around here!
Would I ever go down to his Barn and rearrange things? No...because I would throw most of it away. Do I rearrange his pigeon lofts, messy office, or heaven forbid... tackle the stack around his chair? The answer is a big fat NO! So is it too much to ask for him to not mess with my stuff?
Ok, I'm going to answer my own questions because I know I'll get the right answers:) First of all, let's take a step or two back in time to Saturday.
For months I have endured his marathon training. I have listened to his glory stories, attended his races, put up signs on Friday, and stood for over 4 hours waiting for him to trot by. And what did he do when he saw me...nothing! No kiss, no hug, no thank you dear for being such a wonderful wife! Oh no, he just jogged on by and waved like he was at a picnic. I wanted to run out, grab his shorts, and pull them over his head.
Then, I go out Monday and buy a frame for him to frame his marthon poster, and hang in his office. Which, by the way, has only a tool belt girl hanging in there.I specifically said, "This is to hang in your office." I get up the next morning, and he has hung it up above the sewing machine! Is this so I can be reminded of it more often?
So, when I discovered his decorating this morning, I could have screamed. I would have kicked something, but I know I would have injured myself for nothing. So back to my questions and answers. I would never rearrange his places, although I am now tempted beyond belief. What would he do if I rearranged his spaces? Probably nothing. He wouldn't notice. But I noticed his little Oprah project, and I am not a happy person.
Long ago, 35 years ago, he should have started to realize a thing about me which is..."DON'T MESS WITH MY STUFF!" Both he, and my boys have had trouble remembering this.
One day, about 15 years ago, I came home and found two of my boys playing with and wearing my sexy linguire. I can't spell it, but you know what I mean. I was so mad at them. Not so much because they were having a great time with it, but because they snooped and got it out of the top of my closet! I decided then and there , that mother's have no privacy. I took all my sexy stuff and threw it all in the garbage can. I'm sure the garbage men had a hayday if they looked in the can. I never again have bought anything even remotely sexy. The thing that was so irritating, is that I had put that stuff in old shoe boxes labeled ,"Old temple clothes." But did that stop them from looking...oh no!
I have hid chocolate, money, books, Christmas, and a variety of other things...and they always find it. Larry knows better than to toss anything of mine, but apparently that message has not worked its way to his frontal lobe yet.
I do not want anyone rearranging my home. It is my castle. I do all the work and upkeep in here. Things are where they are for a reason. Now I cannot get to my scrapbooking stuff, it looks ugly from the living room, and there is a big space with nothing to do with it.
I was hoping blogging would get this out of my system, but it hasn't worked. Maybe I'll go down and rearrange a few tools, benches, or junk in his domain! (Really, I won't because it would be too much work!) So if you see me hanging out my windows, shouting at the sky, you'll know that things have not gotten back to normal around here!
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Guilty Pleasures
Yes, you read the title correctly...guilty pleasures. Can you imagine me confessing to such things? Well, here goes. My David Letterman list of things I normally wouldn't own up to, but enjoy doing.
1. Licking the icing out of the icing container
2. Watching your favorite TV show while devouring a box of cereal ( the one everyone else loves!)
3. Retail therapy anytime:)
4. Sneaking your husband's change into your piggy bank ( he never notices)
5. Ordering yourself a Big Mac(calories and all)
6. Dancing around the house when no one is looking ( thank goodness)
7. Having an easy day around the house, then calling your husband and telling him to bring dinner
8. Buying and eating a candy bar, or having a secret stash that no one knows about...HA HA!
9. Making brownies for yourself and eating half of it
10. Sunday sickness ( you all know what this is...those moments when you feel fine until just before church when you are suddenly attacked with a terrible headache etc.) That is not why I missed this last week. I really was sick!
Of course, I could list other things that I consider guilty pleasures, but I don't want to bore you any longer. However, I might say that everyone needs a guilty pleasure once in awhile. It's healthy to reward yourself ...YOU DESERVE IT! Sometimes I think we are too afraid of being human. It's ok to say that you feel like crap, or your sick of the dishes. It's normal to feel a little rebellious at times. I call this safe rebellion, like wearing something weird, dying your hair a strange color, seeing a naughty movie:)...only pg-13 of course. (I'm not THAT naughty.)
Own up to being sick of watching Dora for the tenth time in a row. Admit to hating the smell of another batch of chicken nuggets. Express your desire for a lunch that doesn't include hot dogs and macaroni and cheese!
Search for a quiet place, even if that means the bathroom. Take a book with you, sit on the pot, and enjoy the luxury of not doing anything for a moment. Of course, if your like me, my kids would always stand outside the bathroom door and listen. What did they expect to hear? Did they think I might be sucked down the toilet? I think our kids thought that I would somehow vanish if I were in there alone.
Actually, to sum up this entry I just want to encourage all my friends to catch a break now and then; and don't feel guilty about it. Life is a pleasure, and I'm grateful to be here with all of you, and those I love so dear. Find a quiet place, and eat a plate of brownies on me!
1. Licking the icing out of the icing container
2. Watching your favorite TV show while devouring a box of cereal ( the one everyone else loves!)
3. Retail therapy anytime:)
4. Sneaking your husband's change into your piggy bank ( he never notices)
5. Ordering yourself a Big Mac(calories and all)
6. Dancing around the house when no one is looking ( thank goodness)
7. Having an easy day around the house, then calling your husband and telling him to bring dinner
8. Buying and eating a candy bar, or having a secret stash that no one knows about...HA HA!
9. Making brownies for yourself and eating half of it
10. Sunday sickness ( you all know what this is...those moments when you feel fine until just before church when you are suddenly attacked with a terrible headache etc.) That is not why I missed this last week. I really was sick!
Of course, I could list other things that I consider guilty pleasures, but I don't want to bore you any longer. However, I might say that everyone needs a guilty pleasure once in awhile. It's healthy to reward yourself ...YOU DESERVE IT! Sometimes I think we are too afraid of being human. It's ok to say that you feel like crap, or your sick of the dishes. It's normal to feel a little rebellious at times. I call this safe rebellion, like wearing something weird, dying your hair a strange color, seeing a naughty movie:)...only pg-13 of course. (I'm not THAT naughty.)
Own up to being sick of watching Dora for the tenth time in a row. Admit to hating the smell of another batch of chicken nuggets. Express your desire for a lunch that doesn't include hot dogs and macaroni and cheese!
Search for a quiet place, even if that means the bathroom. Take a book with you, sit on the pot, and enjoy the luxury of not doing anything for a moment. Of course, if your like me, my kids would always stand outside the bathroom door and listen. What did they expect to hear? Did they think I might be sucked down the toilet? I think our kids thought that I would somehow vanish if I were in there alone.
Actually, to sum up this entry I just want to encourage all my friends to catch a break now and then; and don't feel guilty about it. Life is a pleasure, and I'm grateful to be here with all of you, and those I love so dear. Find a quiet place, and eat a plate of brownies on me!
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Dust Dust Go Away...Don't Come Back Another Day!
Ok, let me start by giving you a few clues to see if you know who or what I am referring to. This thing is everywhere, it can be found inside and outside, and it is irritating. No, it is not your neighbor! I'm referring to DUST. It is everywhere. I swear, I just dust a table, turn around, and by the time I look back the dust has already resettled on the table.
In my younger years, I prided myself on being the dust master. I wouldn't allow dust to live at my house. But with the wisdom of age, I too have discovered what many of you already know...it is hopeless! Dust the dresser, and the dust moves to the nightstand. Dust the nightstand and it moves to the bookshelf. If you look closely you can see the dust laughing at your futile attempts to permanently dispose of it.
Dust reminds me of the ants we have in Southern Utah. You can poison those suckers with an entire bag of ant kill, and they just move and pop up somewhere else. I've tried poisoning them, drowning them, even burning the hole. Let me tell you, that doesn't work. Neither does burning half your property down, but that's Larry story! Sorry, I just can't let him forget it too soon.
Anyway, back to ants and dust.You can also add 109 degree weather to the list of irritating things. The heat transforms people into living and breathing fighting machines. They'll fight for the closest parking stall, leave their cars running with kids and animals inside, while they dash into the minute market. Normally nice people suddenly start chewing their arm, and yours off about everything. When it's this hot you'd better be careful about approaching people, and make sure your children don't blurt out something about the stinky, sweating guy in line ahead of you. This does not make friends and influence people.
After deep thought, which totally drains me, I have decided that the heat, ants, and dust are welcome to each other. For all I care the heat can burn up the ants, and move the dust from room to room. I personally am going to boycott dusting. What's the most that can happen? A dust monster might get me? Tremendous guilt might overwhelm me? I might have nightmares about ants and dust? Nah! Not going to happen.
So friends unite. Put the dust buster down. Put the ant poison away. Some say everything is going to hell in a hand basket anyway; so sit back in your dust and enjoy the entertainment:)
In my younger years, I prided myself on being the dust master. I wouldn't allow dust to live at my house. But with the wisdom of age, I too have discovered what many of you already know...it is hopeless! Dust the dresser, and the dust moves to the nightstand. Dust the nightstand and it moves to the bookshelf. If you look closely you can see the dust laughing at your futile attempts to permanently dispose of it.
Dust reminds me of the ants we have in Southern Utah. You can poison those suckers with an entire bag of ant kill, and they just move and pop up somewhere else. I've tried poisoning them, drowning them, even burning the hole. Let me tell you, that doesn't work. Neither does burning half your property down, but that's Larry story! Sorry, I just can't let him forget it too soon.
Anyway, back to ants and dust.You can also add 109 degree weather to the list of irritating things. The heat transforms people into living and breathing fighting machines. They'll fight for the closest parking stall, leave their cars running with kids and animals inside, while they dash into the minute market. Normally nice people suddenly start chewing their arm, and yours off about everything. When it's this hot you'd better be careful about approaching people, and make sure your children don't blurt out something about the stinky, sweating guy in line ahead of you. This does not make friends and influence people.
After deep thought, which totally drains me, I have decided that the heat, ants, and dust are welcome to each other. For all I care the heat can burn up the ants, and move the dust from room to room. I personally am going to boycott dusting. What's the most that can happen? A dust monster might get me? Tremendous guilt might overwhelm me? I might have nightmares about ants and dust? Nah! Not going to happen.
So friends unite. Put the dust buster down. Put the ant poison away. Some say everything is going to hell in a hand basket anyway; so sit back in your dust and enjoy the entertainment:)
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
It's the Little Things that Matter
I've been waiting for inspiration about something to write about, when it dawned on me that I should write about the little things that matter .
First off, I appreciate a polite person on the phone. I've also discovered the secret to speaking with insurance people that just makes them melt in your hand like butter. Here's the secret. When they answer your call and state their name, write it down. Then call them by name through-out your conversation, and especially as you are ending the call. People love that. Give it a try.
My next little piece of advice is to smile at people when they flip you off while driving. It drives them nuts. Once I rolled down my window and yelled, "Have a great day." It really made Mr. Crazy Driver irritated. I loved it.
When checking out at Wal-mart or wherever, help your checker out. I open the bags as the checker spins the bag thing around. They really appreciate it, and it makes you feel good inside. If your lucky, the checker may smile at you as a bonus:)
Don't feel guilty about taking a short nap once in awhile. It's taken me years to figure this out. But moms, you deserve a break. So what if the dishes aren't done, or the laundry isn't folded. It will be there 15 minutes later, and you will feel refreshed and ready to go.
Just recently, I have discovered this little matter. Don't talk to your husband when he is in his recliner. Chances are he is in the zone, or sound asleep and won't hear a word you say. I had an entire conversation with Larry today, and after talking for 10 minutes discovered he was asleep under those glasses of his. I knew this when I threw in the statement, "and the pink elephants threw up." He didn't even blink! No more one way conversations. He is going to have to be standing up on two feet, with his eyes fully open.
Size does matter! Wouldn't you rather have a large drink than a small one? Or a super ice cream cone, instead of the kid's cone in a cup? Well, I would rather have a little meat on my man than no meat at all. Larry has decided to become a marathon runner. That's great, but he has now shrunk to the size of a gremlin, and I feel like his mother next to him! I never realized how much I loved those love handles! I don't know what to do about this matter. I can't run because of my knees, but I am going to have to do something in order to be with the incredible shrinking man. Don't you just hate it when someone gets all healthy on you?
Always put fun and family first. I wish I had taken more time to enjoy my kids when they were little. Now I get to enjoy my grandchildren, and it is the absolute best thing in the world. So you young moms....enjoy the moments. They grow up and leave before you know it. Although, we have one that kind of left, and has came back! Lots more memories to make with him:) Speaking of which, one of the funnest things Jon and I do, when we are alone and bored is to put on Phantom of the Opera and sing and act out the play! It's hysterical to see my 6'7" son, standing on the stair way singing the Phantom's songs to me. Awesome! I know, you all think that is weird...but try it. It's fun. As a little girl I would stand on the footstool and sing along with my parents country records. In fact, my sisters fought with me about whose turn it was to be on the footstool.
Lastly, what ever happened to getting those big catalogs in the mail from Penney's and Montgomery Wards? We would sit for hours and cut things out of the catalogs. Then we used them as paper dolls. Well, I am way off message now. I think I've taken a tour down memory lane. But my point today is that little things matter. It can be a smile, a wave, a kind deed, or silliness. But it all matters.
First off, I appreciate a polite person on the phone. I've also discovered the secret to speaking with insurance people that just makes them melt in your hand like butter. Here's the secret. When they answer your call and state their name, write it down. Then call them by name through-out your conversation, and especially as you are ending the call. People love that. Give it a try.
My next little piece of advice is to smile at people when they flip you off while driving. It drives them nuts. Once I rolled down my window and yelled, "Have a great day." It really made Mr. Crazy Driver irritated. I loved it.
When checking out at Wal-mart or wherever, help your checker out. I open the bags as the checker spins the bag thing around. They really appreciate it, and it makes you feel good inside. If your lucky, the checker may smile at you as a bonus:)
Don't feel guilty about taking a short nap once in awhile. It's taken me years to figure this out. But moms, you deserve a break. So what if the dishes aren't done, or the laundry isn't folded. It will be there 15 minutes later, and you will feel refreshed and ready to go.
Just recently, I have discovered this little matter. Don't talk to your husband when he is in his recliner. Chances are he is in the zone, or sound asleep and won't hear a word you say. I had an entire conversation with Larry today, and after talking for 10 minutes discovered he was asleep under those glasses of his. I knew this when I threw in the statement, "and the pink elephants threw up." He didn't even blink! No more one way conversations. He is going to have to be standing up on two feet, with his eyes fully open.
Size does matter! Wouldn't you rather have a large drink than a small one? Or a super ice cream cone, instead of the kid's cone in a cup? Well, I would rather have a little meat on my man than no meat at all. Larry has decided to become a marathon runner. That's great, but he has now shrunk to the size of a gremlin, and I feel like his mother next to him! I never realized how much I loved those love handles! I don't know what to do about this matter. I can't run because of my knees, but I am going to have to do something in order to be with the incredible shrinking man. Don't you just hate it when someone gets all healthy on you?
Always put fun and family first. I wish I had taken more time to enjoy my kids when they were little. Now I get to enjoy my grandchildren, and it is the absolute best thing in the world. So you young moms....enjoy the moments. They grow up and leave before you know it. Although, we have one that kind of left, and has came back! Lots more memories to make with him:) Speaking of which, one of the funnest things Jon and I do, when we are alone and bored is to put on Phantom of the Opera and sing and act out the play! It's hysterical to see my 6'7" son, standing on the stair way singing the Phantom's songs to me. Awesome! I know, you all think that is weird...but try it. It's fun. As a little girl I would stand on the footstool and sing along with my parents country records. In fact, my sisters fought with me about whose turn it was to be on the footstool.
Lastly, what ever happened to getting those big catalogs in the mail from Penney's and Montgomery Wards? We would sit for hours and cut things out of the catalogs. Then we used them as paper dolls. Well, I am way off message now. I think I've taken a tour down memory lane. But my point today is that little things matter. It can be a smile, a wave, a kind deed, or silliness. But it all matters.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Computer Geeks...Who Needs Them!
It all began a week ago, when I decided that our desktop computer needed to go to a computer hospital for a little tune up. How was I to know that was the beginning of a week from he__ __! The wonderful computer geeks at our local Staples, completely and utterly destroyed my computer. When I got it back all my photos, documents, programs, everything was gone!!!!!
Have you seen a grown woman sob over a computer monitor? It isn't pretty! It was worse than Oprah's "ugly crying." My mascara melted to my armpits, my face was white as a pair of brand new whitey tighties! Each of my kids called and tried to console me, but the devastation of it all was too much. Every grandchild picture was gone, and some computer geek had my blood on his hands!!!!!
After the initial crying period (that went on way too long) , my survival instincts kicked in. I realized, "Oh, I have Carbonite...everything will be fine, everything will be backed up." I went to bed Tuesday night believing that I could get my stuff restored. I spent a sleepness night tossing and turning and worrying about my photos. How could I have intrusted a computer nerd at Staples with the most important stuff in my life? I'll tell you how it happened. I could not understand a word out of the techs mouth! He had an accent, and when he started flapping his lips with tech talk, I believed he knew what he was doing. I agreed to have them do whatever, but I did remind them that I did not, under any circumstances, want to loose my pictures. Obviously, he didn't understand a word out of my mouth either.
So back to Carbonite. My first call to them was answered by some guy sitting at a computer in India. I spent two hours having him direct me around my computer. Finally we started restore, and I thought I was done. Silly, silly, me! Six restores later, 3 online people, 2 more phone people, and hours upon hours of staring at the computer...and finally some success! The only people who really helped me were two online people with the names of Sonja and Jake. The last guy, Carlos, wanted me to take apart my computer and change a wireless connection to wired. I decided he was NUTS, and got off line with him quickly.
Do you see why I have become a basket case! Every time the computer would start restoring, the computer would loose power or something, and it would shut down. I got up at 1:30 AM, 4:30 AM, and 6:30 AM just to wiggle the mouse and make sure the computer didn't go to sleep ( even though it was set to never go to sleep.) Someone must have forgot to tell my computer this because it still wants to nap all the time.
When I finally got most of my pictures back, I decided to copy them onto a memory stick. This too I thought would be quick and easy. Well, four memory sticks and cards later...I still did not have my 1000 pictures back. So yesterday I went and put an 8 MG memory stick. I was praying that it would work, and it did...kind of.
Thanks to my daughter, who isn't afraid to click in and out of things, we finally got everything copied onto my memory stick, and to my laptop. But, I'm still not done. We are still missing programs. When Larry went to pick up the computer, the tech said he had gotten rid of programs he didn't think we would need. Are you kidding me? How can a computer geek know what programs I don't need? I don't even know what I don't need!
As of tonight, I think I have everything working but two deleted programs. I have managed to get a lot of things working myself. So why did I need a computer geek? I guess to teach me some valuable lessons.
1. Only talk to people who speak English when it comes to computer repairs
2. Don't go to Staples
3. Don't trust Carbonite completely
4. Backup everything somewhere else
5. Put everything in writing so they don't have a memory fade
6. Practice praying...you will need it
Lastly, I do not think I want another computer tech near my machine. With this kind of help...who needs them. I can have a nervous breakdown without them...thank you very much:)
Have you seen a grown woman sob over a computer monitor? It isn't pretty! It was worse than Oprah's "ugly crying." My mascara melted to my armpits, my face was white as a pair of brand new whitey tighties! Each of my kids called and tried to console me, but the devastation of it all was too much. Every grandchild picture was gone, and some computer geek had my blood on his hands!!!!!
After the initial crying period (that went on way too long) , my survival instincts kicked in. I realized, "Oh, I have Carbonite...everything will be fine, everything will be backed up." I went to bed Tuesday night believing that I could get my stuff restored. I spent a sleepness night tossing and turning and worrying about my photos. How could I have intrusted a computer nerd at Staples with the most important stuff in my life? I'll tell you how it happened. I could not understand a word out of the techs mouth! He had an accent, and when he started flapping his lips with tech talk, I believed he knew what he was doing. I agreed to have them do whatever, but I did remind them that I did not, under any circumstances, want to loose my pictures. Obviously, he didn't understand a word out of my mouth either.
So back to Carbonite. My first call to them was answered by some guy sitting at a computer in India. I spent two hours having him direct me around my computer. Finally we started restore, and I thought I was done. Silly, silly, me! Six restores later, 3 online people, 2 more phone people, and hours upon hours of staring at the computer...and finally some success! The only people who really helped me were two online people with the names of Sonja and Jake. The last guy, Carlos, wanted me to take apart my computer and change a wireless connection to wired. I decided he was NUTS, and got off line with him quickly.
Do you see why I have become a basket case! Every time the computer would start restoring, the computer would loose power or something, and it would shut down. I got up at 1:30 AM, 4:30 AM, and 6:30 AM just to wiggle the mouse and make sure the computer didn't go to sleep ( even though it was set to never go to sleep.) Someone must have forgot to tell my computer this because it still wants to nap all the time.
When I finally got most of my pictures back, I decided to copy them onto a memory stick. This too I thought would be quick and easy. Well, four memory sticks and cards later...I still did not have my 1000 pictures back. So yesterday I went and put an 8 MG memory stick. I was praying that it would work, and it did...kind of.
Thanks to my daughter, who isn't afraid to click in and out of things, we finally got everything copied onto my memory stick, and to my laptop. But, I'm still not done. We are still missing programs. When Larry went to pick up the computer, the tech said he had gotten rid of programs he didn't think we would need. Are you kidding me? How can a computer geek know what programs I don't need? I don't even know what I don't need!
As of tonight, I think I have everything working but two deleted programs. I have managed to get a lot of things working myself. So why did I need a computer geek? I guess to teach me some valuable lessons.
1. Only talk to people who speak English when it comes to computer repairs
2. Don't go to Staples
3. Don't trust Carbonite completely
4. Backup everything somewhere else
5. Put everything in writing so they don't have a memory fade
6. Practice praying...you will need it
Lastly, I do not think I want another computer tech near my machine. With this kind of help...who needs them. I can have a nervous breakdown without them...thank you very much:)
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Passwords areJust Plain Annoying!
Somehow I need to come up with a better system of keeping my passwords. Up until recently I have used basically two passwords for everything. Then I got SCAMMED! I had to reset passwords, and now I did such a good job...I can' remember half of them!
This memory problem can be attributed to three things: age, age, and more age! Honestly, I started by listing passwords in my planner. But I don't always want to get up and look for my planner. And usually when I do get it...it doesn't have the passwords I needed.
Next plan was to use post it notes. I love those things. I consider myself Queen of post it use. They were my life blood when I taught school. I have continued to be a fan of anything associated with post it notes. The trouble with these, is that I get so many on my bulletin board, that they eventually fall off, I see a piece of paper on the floor, and I throw it away. Then some time later, I realize what I have so carefully disposed of.
Also, the heat in my "office" wears the stickiness right off those notes.
So, I began putting the post it notes up with bulletin board pins. But honestly, I have run out of space. They are layered on my bulletin board, where many have remained hidden for some time. So...what to do?
I thought of making a list and posting on my bulletin board; but then Larry and Jon would have access to all of my passwords also. I have nothing to hide, and I trust them...but sharing passwords is like sharing underwear...NOT COOL!
After much thought and deliberation, I believe I am going to go with the list idea, and hide the list somewhere where I can easily access it. But even as I write this, I know what will happen. I will hide the list so well...I'll never be able to find it again. So, back to the thinking board. Passwords are just annoying!
This memory problem can be attributed to three things: age, age, and more age! Honestly, I started by listing passwords in my planner. But I don't always want to get up and look for my planner. And usually when I do get it...it doesn't have the passwords I needed.
Next plan was to use post it notes. I love those things. I consider myself Queen of post it use. They were my life blood when I taught school. I have continued to be a fan of anything associated with post it notes. The trouble with these, is that I get so many on my bulletin board, that they eventually fall off, I see a piece of paper on the floor, and I throw it away. Then some time later, I realize what I have so carefully disposed of.
Also, the heat in my "office" wears the stickiness right off those notes.
So, I began putting the post it notes up with bulletin board pins. But honestly, I have run out of space. They are layered on my bulletin board, where many have remained hidden for some time. So...what to do?
I thought of making a list and posting on my bulletin board; but then Larry and Jon would have access to all of my passwords also. I have nothing to hide, and I trust them...but sharing passwords is like sharing underwear...NOT COOL!
After much thought and deliberation, I believe I am going to go with the list idea, and hide the list somewhere where I can easily access it. But even as I write this, I know what will happen. I will hide the list so well...I'll never be able to find it again. So, back to the thinking board. Passwords are just annoying!
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