zombie girl

My head is in a fog today. It's 2:30pm, and I'm just sort of waking up. No, there was no huge alcohol induced bender. I drove Aaron to the airport, and we left at 4:45am. I was home and back in my bed at 6:30, but didn't fall back asleep until after Doug was up and out the door at about 8.

I slept until the phone rang at 9... woke up for a while, took the dogs out, fell back asleep, woke up, made lunch for the kids, fell back asleep on the fold out couch in the living room while they ate and watched spongebob. Woke up again...

I am truly zombie at this point.

Top it off with the fact we had a very busy weekend, and I think I'm glad I'm not working at this point because my brain is just plain shut off.

Friday night I stayed up until 1:30am to watch BNL on Conan. I hope Comedy Central is rerunning it today at 7pm. They did "Testing 1,2,3" which was a welcome relief from the chimp song, which they've done over and over... time to get a new single out there and hopefully light a fire for this album. It's sold very few copies compared to Maroon and Stunt... I think that the label may be disappointed with it. I think it's a good album. It isn't Gordon, but... it's a good album. They need another single off of it for sure.

Saturday I got up very early to get Jessica up and ready for play rehearsal, and didn't head back to bed because I knew it would make me feel like I do today.

We went Geocaching. We set out for four of them and got none. I wrote about our adventures in full in my journalspace journal. Normally I save the longwinded stuff for over here, and point from there to here. Not sure why I did it the other way around. So if you'd like to read the details of our trip to the woods of Freemont NH, here you go. Click here.

We emailed another cacher in the area who hit the cache the same day, successfully, and asked if he'd mind advising us as to where we screwed up. He gladly obliged. Gotta love the geocaching community.

Aaron came to the house at 7pm and I made some ass kicking burritos. While we were all insanely tired, we sat up talking late.

Sunday morning Geoff woke up at 7am, and I worked to keep him quiet so Aaron could rest, but at about 9:30 there was no keeping him from his hero, and Aaron got all woken up by the boy. Not too bad a night's sleep. We got ourselves organized and went down to the Franklin Park Zoo, now that the gorillas are back we figured it'd be a good place to spend the day, and it was.

We had dinner at the Chinese buffet in Andover, and all came home totally stuffed, zombified, ready to watch the Simpsons and crash.

And then 4:30am came, and it was early and I'm now very out of sync for where my mind should be at 3pm on any given day.

Anyway... I will make some tea. Hang here for a minute.

Right -- I'm back. A good cuppa is always nice. Although I know I use teabags and not good strained leaves steeped just right and British, I think they're on to something with a good afternoon tea. I even had time to whip up a banana bread and throw it into the oven. The joys of being home and not having to rush to do something, get somewhere.

Sigh -- I know these days may end shortly.

---

I have to make a list of things that need to be done. And I need to get these things done. Here is a start:

• I need to send in the rebate info for the software I bought to help fix my computer. That's 50 bucks right there.
• I have to have breakfast with Carrie
• I have to go to our pastor's house and help her with her PC. I think I know what's wrong, and God help her if it's what I had.
• I cleaned the study up as much as I could while the computer was dead. It's starting to get messy again so I need to reapply my cleaning an organizational expertise to this area.
• Our bedroom needs a total overhaul.
• Our vacuum needs a visit to the vacuum cleaner hospital because there is something godforsaken stuck in the tube, and I can't get it out. Probably a small rodent which hid in dog hair and was sucked up from under the couch. Or one of Geoff's errant socks.
• The Passat needs an oil change. I could bring that up to the corner today, but... meh.
• I have to go out to our cache that we made for Michael back in August. Seems the second clue has gone missing. I think I will positively do that tomorrow. It'll be a quick easy trip with just the boy. And while I'm at it, I should do cache maintenance on our other two area caches, and scope out a location where we can deploy another cache. We bought ammo boxes in Salem last weekend. Can't wait to do another hide!
• Our bathroom walls need retiling.
• Geoff's room needs complete reorganization.
• Jessie's room needs complete reorganization.
• Our kitchen and livingroom need complete reorganization.
• Update the church website, the MHC website, talk to professor CM about the other project we started before he went on sabbatical, update cateringman's website, check for dead links on the portal website I made for the history department of a local private school, finish the dart people, and see if I can't drum up another site or two to do.
• Jumpstart the monkey reference website. People actually miss it

These are the achievables for the next week or so. I know these can be done. Add to that sending out resumes and keeping my children from punching the crap out of each other when they disagree and this will be a busy time.

Finally, before I go -- does anyone out there in the world have the SONY Cybershot 1.3 megapixels camera? I cannot find my CD to install the drivers, and the Sony website is no help whatsoever. Wondering if another reader has the same camera. If you do -- email me please and we'll figure out a way for you to get that to me. I think for right now I can go to Walgreens or something and they can at least download my pictures to CD so I can get them off of my camera, but man... what a pain in the ass.

Anyway... banana bread should be done. Gotta go check on it. More later as always.

Every day is Valentine's Day for Doug and Chris! Two years ago I wrote an entry on that topic, and followed it up with letters of evidence showing this is true. When Doug and I were dating, his mom asked us one night what why we weren't out celebrating Valentine's day.

I think we were studying, and then planned on rolling around on the floor together for a couple of hours. Nothing fancy. No roses. No dinner out. No expectations -- just togetherness. His answer to her "EVERY day is Valentine's Day for Doug and Chris!"

She laughed at us.

This morning Geoff told me that Valentine's Day was canceled. I told him, "But honey, EVERY day is Valentine's Day!" which is, of course, true when you are Doug and Chris.

He was pissed and closed himself in his bedroom.

Dude just isn't immersed in all the love and joy his daddy and I obviously swim in daily.

So -- whether you're solo or hooked up... may today just be a good day. No matter what your plans or your state of romantic involvement. Have a great day.

If it's treacley and sweet and your love spent way way way too much on some flowers, hopefully that brings your heart joy and you don't get all pissy and say "what, red and white roses? Why not all red you fucktard!"

If you're rolling around on the floor with someone, watch out for furniture. There's nothing worse than snogging and then bashing your head on the corner of the desk leg. Believe me. I've been there.

If you're sitting by the phone cursing every beat of that dickhead's heart (because he hasn't called you yet) and hoping you could grab it through his rib cage and throw it through the cement wall of the nearest parking garage -- hopefully the sun is shining in and your plants are doing well.

And remember -- this is a big fat commercialized bullshit day where one half of the couple usually expects too damn much in the name of romance, and the other half feels compelled or doomed to oblige.

Screw that. Send him or her flowers in August for "no reason." Make every day valentine's day.

---

Alright -- that's my little VD screed. On with the rest of this entry. The icky part. You are forewarned as of this point -- if you are easily squicked out and barf at the mere mention of things oozy, you better just close the browser window now, or hit the back button or click here to go somewhere less squicky (well, I think it may be squicky to some but it was the first thing that popped into my head).

I've a story to tell about my dog. And it's not charming, cute, fluffy or cuddly.

Yesterday I came home from work, having been handed my ass in a hat and sent packing, knowing that I am now unemployed and without income. I was kind of bummed out. I wanted doggie friendship and companionship. I walked into the house and it smelled nasty. Totally nasty. Bloody shitty nasty. I couldn't figure it out. I sniffed every surface of floor, couch, bed, tile, toilet -- everything.

I then figured out that it was Kinger that stank. It seemed to be coming from his mouth. I thought "Damn! Dog -- you need a friggin biscuit!" and I fed him one. The smell didn't go away. It followed him from room to room. I thought "perhaps he's sick and has gas or something..." so Jessie took him out and he peed, but didn't poop. She said even outside that he reeked to high heaven. The two of us were stymied.

I decided to give his mouth a good look. I pried his jaws open, and the smell wasn't coming from inside his mouth. I went to pat him on the chest, and my hand encountered the source of the stench.

Under his collar was this huge mass of bloody, brown, stinky oozy shit. I pulled my hand away, and almost passed out. I whipped his collar off, and it was coated in this bloody mess. Jessie just about barfed (I've never seen the girl gag) and she tossed it out the front door as I threw the dog into the tub.

I realized that the mess wasn't on his fur, but that he had some sort of sore under his collar. I thought to myself "How is this possible? Is his collar that tight? No... I could slip all four fingers of my hand between the collar and his neck so it isn't like I'm some sort of deadbeat that would be profiled on Pet Detectives."

There was this oozy sore on his neck. We washed him up, dried him off, gave him two of Jack's left over antibiotics, and he was happy. He went to sleep on the floor. After I while I looked down and there was this ooze all over the floor, so I got a towel and put it under his head.

This was the nastiest thing I've ever had to deal with in dog ownership. I spent a restless night, checking on him and the towel. He slept as much as he could but sat up panting for a long time and I was really worried about him.

I called the vet this morning, thinking some sort of tumor had erupted from his neck and out into the world. She had me rush him in -- it turns out this is a "hot spot," a kind of allergic reaction that dogs get. I was worried it was because of his collar, and the vet assured me that it just happened to be at that spot. It's an easy access scratchy spot, and he must have gone to town on it over the last few days.

She shaved his neck, and Lord have mercy -- what a mess! It is HUGE, bloody and nasty. I almost passed out, but our Vet is the bomb. She's all cool and laid back and not a squickster at all. She washed him up (commended me for doing the same yesterday) gave him some meds, some spray, encouraged us to find a way to cover it up but still get air to it. Luckily for us Kinger is a big sleeper, so he'll crash out and sleep all day and not scratch at it. Between watching it carefully, the meds, and perhaps some black/green tea as the guide linked above suggest (not to drink but as a cooling compress) and me being home an unemployed, we'll have this thing cured quickly.

But man -- I've never seen anything like this. I remember the first time Missy picked up a tick. I had no idea what it was. It was on her face and had blown up to huge proportions. I think one of the officers at the college where Doug was working knew what it was, but my naïveté about ticks and what they look like didn't make him laugh. He handled it well, extracted the tick and then destroyed it in the parking lot (much to my squickiness).

Having dogs has greatly reduced my super squick factor. I can deal with almost anything now without passing out. Blood, dead animals in the woods, mess, skin disease, ticks, vomit, mud, fleas... They've changed my life! Sort of like the kids have. Before them, I couldn't handle holding someone while they were sick, or not pass out while changing a diaper of extreme toxicity. Now, I'm all laid back and professional.

And isn't that what love helps you become? A rock. Fully entrenched in the relationship and situations that arise. Which is why every day is Valentine's Day for Doug and Chris, and all the dogs the kids and the life we have. And I couldn't be happier.

It could be worse

"I just don't know what to do with myself
I don't know what to do with myself
...
and now that we're through
I just don't know what to do"
-the White Stripes

---

No, my marriage isn't over. That would suck above and beyond all imagination, and I don't think I would be able to sit here and write a coherent thought (not that I do on a regular basis anyway).

The above referenced song is a break up song. And the break up that has occurred is between me and my employer. I got dumped. Man, I always get dumped.

I'm laid off again. Almost 2 years after the first time I got laid off, 10 months after I took this HR job... I lose it.

But, it could be worse. On top of getting laid off...

• I could be pregnant.
• I could be on the verge of losing my house.
• I could have no sense of humor at all.
• I could have unimaginable 3rd world style debt (well, that's not far from the reality of my life).
• I could have no primary income winner in my life like my lovely husband.
• My tenants could tell us they're moving out (I just had a long talk with P and they have no intention of ever leaving. They're deep in debt, and finding someplace to live at the rate we currently charge is a near impossibility).
• I could have no alcohol (apologies to those of you who abstain and may find offense, but I had a nice carafe of sangria last night at dinner with my husband, and that made me smile).
• I could have no dogs who love me.
• I could have no marketable skills to speak of, and an IQ of 70 (in which case, I doubt that I'd be sitting here blogging and designing websites for fun).
• I could have a child in a Boston hospital suffering from Viral Meningitis.

It's a mixed blessing, but it didn't "go down" the way I'd foreseen. See, in the back of my mind I knew that once they placed someone in A's vacant position (which was vacated when she moved up to department manager when S left) that they would eliminate my position.

I mentioned that I saw this as a possibility to A during a lunch that we had out last week. She seemed honestly stunned that I'd even THINK that would be an option. She wanted a full 2.5 person department. I told her that I did too, that it would rock, but that from a business standpoint I honestly believed that they'd eliminate my position, and that I was cool with it.

If there is anything that I am -- it's an unabashed realist.

But... I thought that I'd work up until the new person's start date, or even wonderfully a few months into the transition...But keeping me on in that respect seems to not be an option. So yesterday I was told it would be too weird for me to train my replacement. I would have 3 weeks of time to possibly access sensitive information and doom the company or some such justification. And it would be better if I left now. I was kind of stunned -- I mean really. Honestly. My unabashed realism was taken by absolute surprise. I was hijacked. Stunned. Virtually speechless. And I started laughing, which is something that I do at inappropriate times.

A and I talked about it, I told her that I had several little loose ends floating around that I really wanted to clean up, so I worked until about 3pm (she pulled me in her office at 1pm and told me). And she told me to come in today and say goodbye, but that she didn't expect me to work. I still had some things to ship to our California plant, so I took care of that. And I went in and did my thing.

I got the opportunity that few people get at this location -- I got the chance to say goodbye to people. I didn't really have that opportunity when I got laid off in 2002. So I walked through the plant, and targeted folks that I love there to let them know I will miss them.

All my spanish and cambodian peeps. All the people who made my trips through their building to walk to shipping an absolute joy. So I'm very glad for that. A couple of them -- it looked like I broke their hearts. But it is what it is and I had to do it. Going through the office was hard. Even though I felt like I never totally fit in here, I know now that I was loved.

And in the end whatever reasons or justification for letting my hard-workin' but very bored ass go, it's no big thing. That's their decision ... fine. Whatever. I'm okay with it, but... the thing that really baffles me most is that A is left hanging in the breeze, seemingly stunned that she loses me 3 full weeks before the person comes in.

And what if the new candidate changes her mind? Where does that leave A? It doesn't seem right or professional on their part to have let me go today.

Of course, I look back on this experience and question things about me. Perhaps I'd been too open about my personal life. Perhaps I should have applied for the full time position there. But no. You all know I have not been 100% fulfilled vocationally in this job for several months now. My kids' schedule is important, and if push came to shove (like it has) a fulltime job in my future would NOT be an HR position. I would want a web design, teaching, training position... something like I had at CMGI where I got laid off in 2002. I've felt as if I'm not on the right train since the day I got dropped off at that unemployment station.

I took the job because it had features that were appealing to me, but not because I wanted to grow into a full fledged HR Generalist. Now, if I cannot find another part time or telecommuty job, I'll apply for full time jobs and figure out what to do with the kids after school when that bridge is in front of me waiting to be crossed.

I got two weeks severance. Now I look for another job. It's done and over. And part of me is singing the White Stripes song above. I honestly really just don't know what I'm going to do with myself now. But. We'll take it one day at a time, as it were. As it is what it is.

That's about it for now. I have a website to upload for a client and some surfing to do. I'll post more later. I do believe that BNL is on Conan O'Brien tonight for Canada week. Shit I'm so forcing myself to stay up and watch... 12 hours from now! Yikes. Normally I'm out cold by 10pm. But... BNL, baby. I'm so there.

And with that, I say later.

Prayers requested

"I drop this copper on the ground
and if you're down, you might pick it up.
To coin a phrase, this is my way of praying
that all through the day you'll have good luck."
-Jon Svetkey

---

There isn't often a time I turn to my greater readership (all five of you) and ask you to pray for anything.

It is kind of awkward. The thing about cyberspace is many of us read each other, and have little or nothing in common in the greater scheme of things.

Many of you aren't with a particular faith system. Many of you are of some faith or other, kind of borderline agnostic, but think there is some something out there. Others, well you're like me and have a church or some sort of semi-structured faith & fellowship that you ride with. If you don't pray, send mojo. But here's the double request I am making right now.

Nathaniel -- We go to church and school with a family here, and their oldest child, a middle schooler, suddenly came down with a fever over the weekend. It spiked to about 105 degrees, and his parents rushed him to the emergency room, and the emergency room threw him in an ambulance and sent him to Boston. He's got viral meningitis. Which is pretty serious but has a run of 7-10 days, and with a normal immune system folks usually rebound. He's not doing super well, and add to that the fact that his grandfather died on Thursday of last week (dad's dad) the family unit could really use a lifting.

And always, I have a tendency to play "it could be worse" in situations like this. And yes, it could be.

But still -- Send. Mojo.

Gregg and Karry -- I've written here a bit about Gregg and Karry before. He's a friend from college who battled cancer while we were students. She was in our wedding party in 1991. We took his son geocaching and there are pictures here in the site someplace of him being "Eagle Eye Ian" in Gloucester and Rockport. We saw Bruce Cockburn and a hippie's back or three together with Tess this summer in Newburyport.

Gregg works for a software company, and the software company has several military contracts. So, Gregg is getting sent to Iraq. He'll be training and doing support for the software over in the actual theatre of operations.

He's thrilled and excited at the opportunity, and scared out of his mind. He and his lovely wife are both folks with deep and abiding faith, but there isn't any sort of evangelical knowitallism "Oh, everything will be lovely and perfect and as the Lord wishes" in either of their voices. They're both incredibly realistic. Gregg is totally aware of the dangers he is going to face, and Karry -- she's a homeschoolin' mom with two kids and a household to hold together for up to two months while he's away.

I know a lot of you out there know military families or are military yourself. You're probably saying "Two months! Pfthth! That's NOTHIN!" but to a family that didn't expect/anticipate such a big event as this, well -- this is big. When you take a job with a company, three years down the road you don't expect you'll be shipped off to a warzone to show the soldiers how to work the communications software, do you? Nah.

So. Again. Send Mojo.

Right then -- I'll keep you posted if you are looking for updates. Email me and let me know. And while you're at it -- if you need mojo? Email me too. I'll add you to my list. There are many of you I pray for frequently, without your knowing it I guess. I read your journals and say "mojo needed." So if you're wanting to have some extra, just lemme know. M'kay?

Rice is needing to be removed from the oven. More later. I got glasses and I should take a picture so you can all laugh at me. Ha ha !

Trials --> Perseverance. Perseverance. --> Faith.

I've had a rough week. Luckily I had a friend be loving and supportive to me this week, when my son had problems with HIS friends at school.

As mentioned before, this journal isn't a place for me to come out and air my Geoffrey frustrations. He has no defense here, no counter-say, no options. So it isn't fair of me to get up in here and blah blah blah about problems he's having. Suffice to say, things were kind of rough, and there were many conferences by phone with people... resulting in a final ending to the week that I was happy with but only after me having to dig for the truth, and Geoff suffering because no one believed him when he was telling that truth.

I spent a lot of time crying this week.

I was very happy to be at work, away from the house and family. That is kind of funny for me to say, because no matter where I work normally I'm thrilled to go home, be with the kids, make dinner, participate here where I feel most happy. This week was not week of happiness for me. I'm glad it's over and I'm hoping that next week will be happier.

We're taking Geoff to see a psychologist in March. If anyone out there has any experience or advise they'd like to proffer in regards to behavior problems that are tied to Nonverbal Learning Disorders, I'd love to hear from you. Make sure if you email me that you put something to end in the "subject" line of your email and not just "Hi," or whatever... If I don't recognize your name, I'll delete your message.

So I haven't had time to sit down in a whole week and write anything. I've been in focus-on-Geoff mode nearly constantly for the past five days. It wears me out fast, and I find myself passing out at the end of the day with a pounding tension headache.

But, through trials there is perseverance. And from perseverance., faith.

I know for a fact that Geoff is the best Geoff that he can be, and the reading today in church had to do with "I am who I am as God made me, and by his grace that's what I'll continue to be." I know all the time that Geoff is trying to do well and trying to do better and accomplish what is expected of him.

And really, that's all I need to ask of him.

---

The one thing I did want to talk about this week, which everyone else on earth has been talking about, is the Janet Jackson Wardrobe Malfunction during the Superbowl Halftime show. I hope this entry isn't falling too late for any of you to care at this rate.

In my last entry, I posted that I wasn't sure I saw what I saw, but I did see what I saw, because the rest of the planet also saw it.

Everyone is abuzz with opinions on whether or not she planned it. Justin Timberlake states he had no clue that was what would happen. She states that she alone made a change to the program at the very end after all the formal rehearsals and never consulted anyone about it, that Justin, MTV, CBS and the NFL all had no idea that the plan was changed.

I find that a little hard to believe. Someone had to design her top. Justin had to be instructed as to what to grab and where. MTV is notorious for having behind the scenes planning to "liven things up" a bit.

But the thing that I'm reading from a lot of blogs and journals is that we're some sort of nation of prudes freaking out over a little titty action on TV. Folks perceive that we're becoming some sort of Talibanish nation of right-wing religious scolds who want to string Ms. Jackson up in the town square and burn her at the stake.

And that's what I want to address. As a 37 year old woman, I thought it was funny that it happened. I for one am not one to shy away from nudity or sexuality in movies. I am not a Ned Flanders type where footlong hot dogs make me nervous. I sometimes wonder in a movie why someone had to be naked at a certain point in time, as if it added something to the story, when it usually didn't.

So my I'm not afraid of boobies stance is fully in place. Let that be known. I fear no boobies.

I was still totally offended by the boobie appearance in this instance.

Why?

Because I had no way of knowing it was heading our way, with my 7 year old son on my couch next to me. And it was incredibly insensitive of her to plan this action out, and I personally believe she did plan it to happen this way.

Most of the time there's something at the beginning of a broadcast that says "there are going to be titties in this broadcast" and I take the warning to heart and change the channel. When watching TV with my kids, there's enough shit that gets thrown them on a daily basis that I don't feel they NEED to have boobs bouncing in front of their faces.

I can make a parental decision to change the channel. In this instance, I had no opportunity to change the channel or say "Hey Geoff, right now is a good time for you to go ahead and go to the bathroom for a minute or two, until the boobie waving part is over."

And that is where a lot of the indignation is coming from, at least in my understanding of it.

I love Penn & Teller's "Bullshit" show on Shotime, but I'm not going to let my daughter watch it, even though she loves Penn & Teller as much as I.

Why? Too much swearing. I can handle it, I don't think she can.

Do I think that Penn yelling "Fuck that!" every couple of minutes ADDS to the learning experience of him trying to debunk UFO believers, no. But I understand his use of it, and see the comic element in its usage. I think the show is genius and funny, but it isn't for my 12 year old.

My daughter will just see it as a good reason to also yell "Fuck that!" in class when they're studying something that she disagrees with. Trust me, I know she will.

As a parent, I am glad to be able to make that decision before hand, and change the channel to Spongebob instead.

We watched the movie "Amelie" a few months ago up at Aaron & Michelle's house. Michelle had seen it several times, and knew to tell Jessica to cover her eyes for a minute during the "How may people are having orgasms right now in the city? Fifteen!" part, and the part where they are sitting in the sex toy store putting price tags on dildos.

Michelle doesn't have kids, but she gets it. She knew exactly what Jessie didn't need to see to enjoy that movie. And I'm incredibly glad to have a friend like Michelle who saw the movie first and is on the same wavelength as me. Jessie didn't lose anything in the overall enjoyability of the movie. She liked it, even though she had to read subtitles the whole time.

I also let her watch "The Real World" with me. There are some things that happen on the show where I change the channel. She doesn't need to see Trischelle and her boy du jour rolling around with her legs wrapped around his neck. But seeing Brad and Robin both get arrested for public drunkenness, that's educational for her. We watch Cops together. Watch that dirtbag get totally arrested for having 50 bags of heroin in his pocket and for attempting to outrun the police.

Don't do this later in life, got it?

I make decisions based on what I want them to see and know.

And Janet's decision to have the chest of her bodysuit pulled off revealing her boob in a wardrobe malfunction on LIVE TV, I had no control over that. I'm quite relieved my son had fallen asleep, and my daughter had given up watching because she hates Justin Timberlake and she went to get food from the kitchen. Both of them missed it.

But there were thousands of other parents sitting right there with their kids who weren't as lucky, and had no control over what their kids just had waved in their little faces. A litany of "dad, what just happened to her shirt?" went across the nation, uttered from mouths of younger kids on couches everywhere.

And that is unfair to parents. It was very unfair to the younger kids. Whether or not she intended for both pieces of her top to rip, whether Justin just dug his fingers in there and grabbed too much material, it doesn't matter. It was live TV. What was she THINKING? Why was the ripping of her bodice appropriate in any way, shape or form in the first place?

Why didn't Justin say "That's dumb, why would I want to do that, it has nothing to do at all with rocking one's body."

All people wanted to see was some football.

And that's what the pissing, moaning, complaining and freaking out is all about. If it was a Janet concert, I wouldn't have cared because I wouldn't have been watching. I don't value her as an artist. If others do -- fine. Whatever. I was just waiting for the game to come back on. And I got a face full of the unexpected.

The fall out from this transfers to a show like ER, where they were going to have a elderly female patient appear topless in an examination room, because "that's more realistic" in the telling of this character's story. I guess that advertisers freaked out upon hearing this, and threatened to pull their ads from the show.

My opinion on that one is -- if it is in context to the story, well then go ahead. It's on at 10pm, and as a parent I probably wouldn't be watching that with my 7 year old son. And, they have something at the beginning that warns you that there will be some nudity in this show. People can make a decision. And that's good.

If they animated Spongebob to have a big wagging penis, I'd make a choice to not let them watch that episode.

It all boils down to the element of decision making as a viewer. Not just as a parent, but as a viewer. If you're Ned Flanders and seeing a boob is a sin, you wouldn't watch the episode of ER. But if you're Ned Flanders and you love the Carolina Panthers and you are hoping in just a minute they'll finish up this infernal racket and get back to the game -- you got a big surprise.

Marge Simpson once said while watching TV "Fox became a hardcore porn channel so gradually that we didn't even notice."

I think that if we just ignore the fact that things like this continue to hit the airwaves in a stronger and more escalating manner, well then we'll get what we deserve in broadcasting.

And let me tell you, on the topic of her being banned from the Grammy Awards Show, she shouldn't be the only fall guy in this situation. I learned a lot this week with events surrounding my son.

There isn't one person "guilty" of committing some sort of crime in this instance. There is a whole slew of people who should take responsibility, not just her. I admire her efforts in going out there and making a statement that aims fault at only herself. But she's not the only one at fault here. There should be culpability on many parts in this situation. And having been through something where my son was deemed the only party responsible at one point, I can tell you that it's no fun. Justin should be banned from the Grammys this year too.

And if this was really a nation of moral scolds who want to Taliban things up, Janet would be dead right now. But -- her career will recover. Just think of these three words: "Pee Wee Herman." I still watch his old show, and I love the work he's done since his incident in a movie theatre a few years back. Through trials there is perseverance.

---

I have a suggestion for next year's half time show. Let's have Barenaked Ladies do the halftime show. Not just because I love them more than oxygen.

They can do their barenaked rap and chicken dance polka thing, and Steve and Ed can kiss! Men kissing is rather innocuous these days in the public eye. Even if Ed and Steve are avowedly heterosexual, it would be less offensive than what happened this year.

And we'll warn people so they can cover their eyes or the eyes of their kids. Everyone will be happy. Those looking to avoid men kissing each other, and those who enjoy it.

On that note, I'm off to do the dishes. Much love to you all.

Are you ready for some football???

Hey what a pretty good Sunday this has been, and a pretty good all around weekend. Now, if the Pats win the superbowl, all will be right with the world and I'll be a happy gal.

Woke up incredibly early this morning, and was the only one willing to go to church so I went. Instead of a sermon, we did a hymn sing for 20 minutes. People went through the hymnal and picked the songs they wanted to sing and our organist played whatever was thrown at him.

It made me think of They Might Be Giants Dial A Song and I laughed to myself (I'm absolutely positive that I'm the only one out of the 80 people there who thought of TMBG at that given moment). We sang some good ones, some downright weird ones, and some that were totally episcopalian, victorian America and funny to hear played.

It was a good time. How weird am I that sight reading hymns and picking out the alto line makes me happy. I know after 3 years you can't be surprised or shocked that this entertained me and made me smile. Regular readers know I'm just a touch off.

Anyway -- got home to a house that was in the process of being totally decorated by my son. He was getting psyched for the Pats appearance in the superbowl. Until last week he was hands down against the Pats, seeing as the Steelers weren't in the big game. But somehow, he woke up this morning a changed man.

He made signs, and was cheering (he still is) and was completely off the hook with happiness and singing "Panthers need their pampers" in a singsongy taunty voice.

Oh -- it's kick off time. I may have to pick this up later. Who am I kidding, I WILL pick this up later. There's more to talk about. So if you're reading this and nothing appears after this paragraph, be sure to come back later. I'll "blog style" this entry with an addition. I'm ready for some pizza rolls and football. Are you?

8:40PM
Right then -- halftime.

Pre-game was ridiculous. While Josh Groban performed a nice and very uplifting song, the whole tie in with NASA was absolutely ridiculous and pandering, and laughable. The ... astronaut guy coming up and standing on the moon surface made me choke on pizza rolls and I almost fell off the couch.

It was interterrible.

I seriously almost had a heart attack. Oh. My. God.

Kick off, fun ness -- the superbowl underweigh. A very boring first quarter which got blown awake with some serious touchdown action. Jessica spoiled us rotten by preparing pizza rolls and bringing us beer, and I think I owe her some money for being sweetest hostess ever. I didn't need to lift a finger. She did all the work.

Things were slightly dull there, but when the Pats went ahead I was all comfy and happy. Watching a defensive battle is hard because while it's awesome that the defenses keep anything from getting to the endzone rather impressively, it makes for boring football.

Jake and the boys tied the score with a stupendous touchdown that I didn't think they'd get the throw off for. With a score of 7-7, it's a good thing Vinatieri didn't blow the field goal that brought the Pats back into the lead.

Then, that halftime show.

I ... expect halftime shows to blow. After the U2 show 2 years ago, which was the best show ever, nothing can possibly be good. 2 years ago, I somehow thought they milked the 9/11 thing a bit but overall the live performance that the offered was pure and unadulterated beauty.

But by far, this year's halftime which I just watched... this years was the most craptacular halftime I've ever seen.

The segue between P. Diddy and Nelly with "Oh Diddy you're so fine" was ridiculous. Janet Jackson's songs are more ambient than performance. She is allegedly singing, but it's really 20 tracks of her singing harmony over herself, so most of her songs aren't really stadium worthy.

Best part of the halftime performance was Kid Rock and you know I HATE saying that. I think he wears an American flag well. The non-music "Rythym Nation" song, which is like 17 friggin years old, wasn't exactly thrilling. I mean, who got together and said "Hey, let's have Janet Jackson perform an "oldie" of hers..."

Puh-lease.

Next was Mr. Timberlake, and while Justin is easy on the eyes, he's a no talent ass clown. That performance of "Rock Your Body" was hardly rockin' in any sense of the word.

Can someone tell me if I saw Janet's boobie there at the very end? Justin whipped her red bra-like item thing off her chest, and I think that act exposed her entire bresticle in a rather stunning way.

Did anyone else catch that? I don't think Janet intended us to see that.

Well, whether or not I was intended to see Janet's boobie, the second half is on and I'm going to go watch it. Geoff has finally run out of gas. He's on the couch with a pillow and he's trying to wave his "Go Pat's" flag (yes, that's an apostrophe in there. He thinks it belongs. I'll scan it later for you) homemade flag. Doug burned himself on pizza roles and I'm sorry you can't hear the noise he made. I wanted to comfort him, but I was too busy laughing hysterically at the noise which he blurted out upon inhaling lava hot pizza stuffing.

The commercials have sucked so far, except for the AOL commercials with Paulie and Senior and Mikey.

Right then, more later.

10:30PM

AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

Oh God Oh God Oh God! That was amazing. The Pats won. Almost didn't but holy flerkin' schnit they did.

I have a headache. A stomach ache. A back ache. I'm ready for bed. That, my friends, was the most amazing finish to a football game ever.

And with that, to bed. More later. TTFN.

Snotstorm, Jinx magazine

So the weekend is here. Overall I had a great week at work

I worked incredibly hard over these last few weeks, mostly because I feel I've lost my love for being there. And I got sad after S left in November. It's been a hard adjustment for me to work for A, and I think it's hard on her too because I'm not the 100% perfect person for this job.

But this week and last week -- these were great weeks. Salad days. Aaah. Yes. Salad.

---

I'm getting incredibly psyched for this Super Bowl, although compared to two years ago I haven't written much about football. Two years ago I was all about the football here in this journal. I couldn't shut up about the Patriots. Now they're going again, and I'm giddy as all get out about them. I looked back on my journal entry from 2 years ago when Ben and I went to Boston for the rally welcoming the team back. I still can't get over the fact the jumbotron broke.

So I'm psyched for one of my favorite teams to be here (face it, if it's the Steelers, the Pats or the Packers I'm a happy gal). And I'm excited about the commercials (there's a Simpsons commercial) and... the food.

I've got to go to the super market and get some good munchies for the big game. Any requests?

---

Reading

We do a lot of reading around here, all four of us, especially Doug. Lately I've been reading a book that he picked out for himself... I didn't know that I'd get as sucked into it as I have.

It's called "Invisible Frontier" by the writers of Jinx Magazine. Jinx is an online magazine/community dedicated to urban exploration. The invisibles beneath our feet, around our bodies and over our heads. The infrastructure of urban areas which people often times don't know about or don't realize the history surrounding.

One of the more popular articles features Agent Bleach who for his first Jinx assignment rode the NYC subway system for 24 straight hours.

"Invisible" Frontier takes you from the depths to the heights of the leviathan of New York City, in the adventures our intrepid explorers waged during the summer of 2001.

Yes, NYC, the summer of 2001. Right before Sept. 11th. Which is very key for how wonderful this book is, as Jinx has suspended a great deal of its explorations, stating as a preface to the book:

"Jinx has ceased its unlawful trespassing activities for the duration of the present period of war and heightened alert in the United States; though neither odious nor evil, the activities of urban exploration create the hazard of false alarms and could possibly divert police resources from serious matters. Obedience of just laws is not a private matter. Every crime undermines our safety by making the staggering task of law enforcement harder in this period of terrorism and war."

Each of the urban explorations in this book, from the Croton Aqueduct to the top of the George Washington Bridge, all happened before Sept. 11th when sneaking around Manhattan in dress clothes and dark sunglasses meant you were strange but not suspicious. After all, it was New York City. People are weird. If a group of seven comes into a coffee shop in the middle of the night dressed to the nines and covered with mud, it's peculiar, but not perilous.

Having grown up on Long Island, I knew there was a lot of NY history that I either slept through in the public schools or I simply had forgotten, or, as the case probably was in the 70s and 80s, certain aspects of history were passed over and we got to read Walt Whitman poems over and over again. (Don't forget, "I hate you Walt Freakin' Whitman! Leaves of Grass my ASS!")

So I found this book fascinating, mind blowing... it is a collection of stories about urban exploration with clear historical documentation as to why each of these locations is.

One of the most chilling little passages in the book is in the chapter about North Brother Island, and the 1904 wreck of the General Slocum.

Reported by L.B. Deyo, he writes:

" 'Hey, mister!' Twelve-year old Frank Perditsky busted into the bridge. 'The boat's on fire!' "

"[Captain William] Van Schaick shot the kid a glare, the fixed his eyes back on the river. He wasn't going in for pranks, not now, with Hell Gate churning in front of him. 'You shut your trap,' he told the boy. 'Get out of here.'

"It was ten more minutes before Captain Van Schaick learned the truth. By then the fire was out of control, burning hay and fuel oil, spitting a column of black into the sky. 'Full speed,' he ordered, scanning for a safe berth. He had already Left Manhattan behind; here the river threaded the Bronx and Queens. There were piers along both banks, but they were too dangerous, crowded with lumber and other flammable materials. He made a decision. 'Put her on North Brother Island.' It was just a mile ahead.

"The acceleration whipped flames back along the length of the Slocum. The crew panicked. Old cork life preservers dissolved in the brine as the first passengers leaped over-board. For years the owners of the General Slocum had ignored safety requirements and training; the lifeboats were bolted to the sides of the ship, the fire hoses were rotten. Now the burning decks swarmed with children.

"North Brother came into view. It was a good choice - it had a ferry slip pier, and it housed the brand-new Riverside Hospital. They were seconds away when Van Schaick made his error.

"Something caught his eye in the Bronx, and he decided to head there instead. A moment later he thought better of it and jerked the wheel back toward the ferry slip on North Brother. The Slocum was going too fast for that turn; it broke the ship. Passengers were thrown across the upper deck into the guardrail, carrying it overboard.

"The river boiled. Oily flames spread across its back, stewing the dead and dying. Currents battered the survivors as they swam, hauling them out to the deepest draught of the river. One boy was pulled into the water wheel. Some men returned to the breached ferry to search for children, and they had the clothes burned off their backs. Those who touched the walls fused their skin to the paint. Rescuers rushed to the scene; some fought to save lives, others robbed desperate women before helping them ashore. A few prisoners from nearby Rikers Island actually escaped so they could help in the rescue.

"It remains, in the summer of 2001, the worst disaster in New York History. One thousand twenty-one persons died. As night fell, the doctors and nurses of Riverside Hospital laid out some six hundred corpses along the grassy shores of North Brother. As they worked, these doctors and nurses knew they had seen an unprecedented catastrophe. They didn't know that just three years later a new trouble would touch their shores, a trouble to eclipse the wreck of the General Slocum. A patient was coming to North Brother Island, a patient who would bring a hundred years of infamy."

-pgs 158-159

And, of course the patient that came to North Brother Island was Mary Mallon, aka Typhoid Mary.

And of course, less than 100 years later New York's worst disaster was eclipsed by the fall of the World Trade Center, upon which Jinx unfortunately was not able to plant its flag.

I have thoroughly enjoyed reading this -- it's funny, it's enlightening, it's chock full of historical fact (tell me who designed the Croton Aqueduct. Anyone? Anyone? Okay then, tell me the names of the painters most prominently featured in the Freedom Tunnel. Anyone? See. I thought not). If you enjoy New York, if you enjoy history, if you enjoy geocaching, hunting, treasure finding... if you think that exploration isn't dead on earth and strictly reserved for Mars and the moon, please get this book. Read the content in jinx magazine online too. Enjoy.

And in closing -- a funny. The woman over the cube wall from me started laughing hysterically this morning. I asked her what was so funny. She almost couldn't get it out.

"I was typing an email and I typo'ed something," she said. I started to laugh, trying to figure out what could possibly be so funny. So I asked her to tell me what she typo'ed.

"Well, I meant to type 'snowstorm,' but I didn't. I typed, I ... typed" she's laughing again. I'm laughing too...

"Snotstorm."

"You typed 'snotstorm' instead of 'snowstorm?'" I asked, laughing. Yes. So the two of us laughed our asses off. I had a picture in my mind that aside from possibly a shitstorm, a snotstorm would be the worst place on earth to possibly be.

So kids, with this -- I urge you. Stay out of the snotstorms of life. And have a great evening.

Across the pure parabola of joy...

I have been trying to get Doug to start a weblog. The man has some amazingly funny stories to tell. He comes home from work and makes me guffaw with glee as he shares tales of nursing home employment.

But he won't commit. And the blogsphere is so missing out on what could be the second best blog ever (Mr. Garfield's blog would be the hands down greatest ever were he to at least sign up for free blogging at Journalspace).

If Doug ever does cross into the seventh dimension of cyberspace, I want him to name his journal "Across the Pure Parabola of Joy." It is a line from a poem by a haughty Canadian poet character in a P.G. Wodehouse story.

Everyone wants to know "what is a parabola exactly?" And, of course, he can't exactly explain it. (But dictionary.com can! Click here to find out what a parabola is and how it possibly can be... joyous?)

As the story moves on, someone decides to pretend he is this poet so he can gain access to a house and steal a necklace... so it gets even funnier when people start grilling the imposter for reasons why he wrote certain things.

We just think that the pure parabola of joy is funny. It's funny to say outloud, pretending it's something important whilst sweeping arm wide and looking towards the horizon.

So P.G. Wodehouse.

There isn't much to report today. Just one and a half funny anecdotes.

---

I went to the drug store at lunchtime today to obtain certain feminine products for my personal consumption and for my daughter (yes, she did, she did start her period and that's an issue for me not to discuss here. She'd kill me if she knew I'd even mentioned it).

As is my wont when I go to CVS, I buy chocolate for the basket in my office. Usually three assortment bags of ... whatever chocolate strikes my fancy. So I did just that and approached the register.

And I am standing there with a huge basket load of tampons and pads, and three giant bags of chocolate.

I look down as I put it all out on the counter and think to myself, "Gah, that looks desperate and crazy, doesn't it?" and I start laughing.

The girl ringing me up looks at me funny (as do most people when I start laughing for apparently no reason) and I say "Yeah, this looks bad, eh? Forty dollars of feminine protection products and thirty dollars worth of chocolate. You must think I'm in a bad way right about now."

"Oh, we don't think about what the customers are buying ma'am," she states, "We're not here to judge."

I was surprised. She didn't smile and say "Uh, yeah, that does look funny." Or perhaps, "Oh, yeah. I know how that feels!"

She got all corporate and semi-preachy at me. And you know what, it broke my heart.

I'm sad that so many people have no sense of humor.

No parabola of joy (she says, sweeping arm wide with hopeful gaze to the horizon of the cabinets above the PC monitor).

I'm hoping that one or two of you, even the guys out there, found this funny and picture me laughing at myself while standing at the counter with an armload of two distinctly different yet inter-connected products.

And for your information, the Chain Supply Manager ate the most chocolate. He's a chocoholic... for chocolate! Again, stealing from the Onion.

Us girls did indulge, but not like this guy! He wondered if you ate 10 pounds of chocolate would you gain 10 pounds. We spent time theorizing what it would be like to eat 10 pounds of lettuce. You wouldn't gain 10 pounds because of the caloric value of the lettuce.

Depending on the caloric value of the Reeses mini peanut butter cups (my personal faves) we figured you may not gain 10 pounds, but you certainly would get sick as hell and puke, so you'd perhaps lose weight in the long run.

I invited him to try out his theory. He said he'd rather continue loving chocolate and never get to the point in life where the sight of it would cause him to recall a horrible day where he puked 10 pounds of chocolate up.

And I'll leave you with that unpleasant image, but let it be known, we were laughing heartily.

Category Zero Kill Storm; Real and unreal world

After starting out as a category four kill storm at the beginning of the
week, the forecast for snow slowly dwindled, down to category three,
category two, and then pretty much didn't materialize into anything at all by this morning, at least for the North Country here.

I went to the market yesterday with Geoff, we were out of the usual Milk and Bread staples with or without storm, so a trip was necessary. I was pleased to find the market not overcrowded with panicky people grabbing every loaf of pumpernickel and bottles of organic soy milk because the store brand varieties were wiped off the shelves completely.

We had a wonderful time in the market, but Geoff chastised me for singing and dancing. A few short months ago, he would have been singing and dancing with me.

I'm disappointed in this change in him.

---

Jessica has a role in the school play. A total of about five lines, but
they're funny and as always will be delivered with the best timing, diction and skill.

I had hoped she'd get a larger role. I mean, people around here are still abuzz about her performance five years ago in the first grade class production of "The Magic Fish," where she played the fish. And she played it like no one has played a fish since Darryl Hannah in "Splash."

I'm slightly disappointed that she didn't get the role she wanted -- the Evil Real Estate Agent -- but she's got a good role where she can crack wise and get a laugh. Rehearsals are after school, and today she's there until five pm. This has given me time to be with Geoff by myself. And I'm greatly enjoying that time.

As much as I love my daughter, I can't help but wonder what kind of person he may have turned out to be at this point if he were the first born. It's so much easier to be with him and talk to him when she's not there. While I've always love the concept of siblings, I can't help but think, gee, there is something to having an only child.

But overall, when she gets home from play rehearsal, he's happy to see her, and it is two less hours in a day for them to spend together so they don't reach their critical mass until right before bedtime, or... at all.

---

This morning I totally thought the kids would be bent out of shape that there wasn't a delay of start for school. Jessica was surprised to see no snow out there, but didn't react. Geoff totally forgot that there'd been a forecast for snow in the first place. We were initially to get 5-7 inches of snow between 2am and 7am... but we got zilch and neither of them reacted negatively. They got ready for school without incident.

I, on the other hand was pissed as shit that we didn't get at least something to muck up the roads... I could have used an extra hour, 90 minutes, two hours this morning to get ready slowly as I'd stayed up horribly late watching... Real World San Diego.

Episode four the other night and I got sucked in. ZSSSSHHHHOOOOOOOP. Can't you hear it?

What is wrong with me? Again, confessions of a 37 year old Real World fan... we've been through this with me before. I'm like a chocoholic, for booze... and Real World (to totally steal from "The Onion," another of my great addictions).

What the hell is wrong with this cast? Brad? Robin? Drunk fools. Randy thinks he's Ashton Kutcher. Frankie is afraid of large metal objects like buildings and cruise ships? Oh dear. Jamie's cute but those Ugg boots have GOT to go, and what kind of a name is Cameran? Uh? All I can think of is Kodak.

Each year I pick a cast member that I cannot live without. I didn't find one in the Paris cast. I hated them all and stopped watching. I was sick of Ace being all "Ace on Nine" and frat boyish, Leah was too Long Island for me. I thought that CT was so Bostonian but also kind of... Gallagher brothers in his speech and appearance that it made me sick to my stomach. What was with that hair?

This year, I've found my cast member to love. Thus far, it has to be Jacquese. He's the only person in the house I enjoy hearing from and watching. I felt how uncomfortable he was with the whole "nigger" situation, and I absolutely LOVED that he called his mother in the middle of the night and she gave him the best advice.

You know me -- always impressed when the mom isn't a total psycho.

I love how she talked him down, and made him see clearly that I thought his "Free Brad" sign on his sweatshirt was hysterically funny. He brought the protest and the Black Power to his white imprisoned brother, and the cause grew. Pretty soon, everyone in the house had "Free Brad" taped to their shirts and drunk Brad dried out in a cell and no one knew where Robin was, but she also was in lockup for battery.

And, of course, the Real World/Road Rules challenge of the Gauntlet just finished up last week and those pimpy pushers of Eye Crack have put together yet another broadcast to cause me to lose sleep -- the Inferno. Damn if the Gauntlet didn't just finish up and they're serving up yet another slab o'pie for me. Jerks.

So you know where I'll be. Watching MTV. I'm getting too old for this. Gah.

Well, some snow finally fell. Not enough to warrant any school closings or to slow traffic. Just enough for all the grey crappy dogpissed snow to get covered nicely. Everything has such a nice, fresh, clean look to it. For the dogs to poop on.

Right then -- time to go get Jessie from play rehearsal. More later folks. Have a gorgeous day...

Hijacked PC

Voof. Am I having a combination bad and good week all at once.

Good stuff first, because it's important to always think the good stuff first. Best foot forward and all that.

We had a wonderful Birthday Cake Week. Wednesday night Geoff picked "Not Your Average Joe's" for his dinner location, and we ate a wonderful meal of happiness there. Our waiter was kind of a dink though... tell a guy twice that it's someone's birthday, and you'd think he'd "suggest" or take it upon himself to bring the birthday boy's dessert with a candle in it or something. No. He didn't ... so we are glad we did cake, candles and ice cream with Auntie lee lee on Sunday.

Yesterday we had a party for him -- 15 total kids. It was scads of fun and absolute chaos. We played musical chairs, in which Geoff showed his incredible poor loserness and Jessica was the best music director using that pause button at all kinds of unexpected times. Our neighbor E won two out of the three games of musical chairs -- I was quite proud of her. We also played Hot Potato, but with a stuffed lobster, so it became Hot Lobster.

And "Pass it on" is always a great game to play with first graders. I started both the sessions and the sentences were fairly simple, but by the end had "butt" and "fart" inserted into them by naughty first grade (cough Geoff) boys in the middle of the chain.

My neighbor took it upon herself to make a cake. She called this morning and I told her I was picking one up at the market bakery... she insisted on baking for me. So she made white cake with white frosting and shaved Hershey's chocolate kisses for a covering. It was quite nice and no matter how hard I insisted that she not do that, she did it... it was beyond kind. And we had good ice cream to go with, and the kids were mentally insane by the time the party was halfway through.

Cake and ice cream mercifully took almost a half hour, and then we did presents. The kids were fighting over which present would be opened next. Geoff was sort of overwhelmed, and one of the moms played secretary so I could clean up the cake and ice cream (thank you wherever you are tonight Mrs. D).

We had a half hour to kill, the kids were mentally deranged from all that sugar, so we played Simon Says, only I used the lobster to do "Lobster Says" and the kids loved that (even though Doug thought it was stupid). Doug blew up all the balloons that I got and didn't have time to blow up, and each kid got a balloon. That ate up the rest of the time, and they all invented fun games to play like "how long can you keep the balloon up in the air without dropping it?" Everyone knows and loves that game.

The parents were pretty prompt in coming to pick up, and everyone seemed to have a super time. I was glad to have had them...

And I'm glad that I don't have to do it again any time soon.

---

The bad side of the week is something that maybe one of you nice people out there in the blogsphere can help me with.

We have been hijacked.

At least, our Browsers have been hijacked.

On Thursday night, Doug went to log on the PC and both Netscape and Internet explorer are not working.

The Address Bar at the top of the screen shows the URL, but the screen never changes. We can put in www.biteme.com, or www.echoesofadream.com or www.ellispaul.com and the screen stays the same.

The next morning I called our ISP. They stated that they weren't running anything that would require us to put in our phone number, and that it had nothing to do with them. They offered no solutions or suggestions. Thanks, asshats.

I run Norton antivirus, latest DAT loaded on 12/31/03. It doesn't find anything. I go to retrieve the latest DAT because I'm sure there is a new one, but Live Update won't run. I'm thinking that whatever has my Browsers by the shorthairs also has my NAV. Great.

I called Gateway.

I have always loved the tech support at Gateway. Efficient, helpful, knowledgeable, friendly. It's one of the reasons I bought the computer. When I worked at the college we had a contract with Gateway, and they always impressed me with how well they did their thing.

But now, Gateway, that fine upstanding American Midwestern Down To Earth Cows and Barns and PCs kind of company has farmed its support to India.

Now, don't get me wrong right off the bat. I totally understand the need to save money in a bad economy, and they aren't the only company to do this. And I have nothing against people from India. I love people from India.

What I have a problem with is trying to get through to someone on satellite phone to halfway across the planet where it is four AM and I can't understand what the person is saying to me.

And, getting through was a problem...

I dialed the number, and was disconnected.

I dialed again, got through the menu and punched in my serial number and was disconnected again.

This happened three more times.

I finally heard all kinds of echoey buzzy noise, and the support guy came on the phone.

He identified himself as Richard.

He had never heard of anything like this before. I should have said Namaste and hung the phone up then... but I stuck with him, I wanted to see what he'd figure out or if he'd escalate my call to another person.

He had me do a bunch of different things, like unload a bunch of stuff from my start up files, as if Windows Start Up is causing something to happen when two separate specific programs are starting up. He and I spent almost two hours on the phone trying to figure this out.

Because he had never heard of anything like this, it was a complete wash. He was friendly and helpful. We talked about Celsius and I told him that at my house it was like negative 20 right at that minute and he almost fell out of his chair (seeing as it was about 48 at his house that evening when he left for work and he thought that was chilly). We determined that he could help me no further, and he recommended I take my PC to the Gateway store to have it fixed.

I said Namaste and he was very happy to have an American be so kind, but I wasn't happy in the end. I was let down. He was as uninformed as I, and I want those two hours of my life back.

Next, a call to my sister.

She asks me if I did all the same things that Richard in India suggested, and I told her yes... she talked to her boss, who suggested a couple things, I tried them. No dice.

She then hooked me up with a friend of hers, and he and I spent like three hours on the phone trying all kinds of things... he had me all up inside my registry deleting stuff and messing with things I've never touched before. It was scary.

But it didn't work.

In the morning on Saturday I called my buddy Brian, and he set me up with a log in to his FTP server so I could pull down Ad-Aware. I ran it. It found a shitload of stuff that was no good, but it didn't find the thing to fix my Browser contamination.

I tried to download the latest definitions of Ad-Aware, but it doesn't load, it hangs at 5% and then my PC crashes.

This afternoon I went to Staples and talked to them there. They said they don't think it's a spyware problem they think it's a virus. I bought the latest NAV 2004, and loaded it. I was able to get the DAT from this week without incident.

NAV found some Adware on my PC but can't delete it or quarantine it. So I'm back at square one... having spent about 15 hours of my precious Football TV Playoffs LIFE on this problem.

Staples suggested that if NAV can't fix my problem, back everything up and go to the Gateway Store.

I'll be calling them first thing in the morning.

I bought an external CD burner (I have tried to install things inside this PC and that hasn't been successful) And a bunch o'CDs, and I plan on backing up all our documents and photos tomorrow after work.

Right now, I just don't even want to be looking at this thing.

So... has anyone out there experienced this problem? Will grabbing an AOL CD and installing it as a temporary fix get us out to the web with their security in place and help us access websites where we can find out what is going on?

Know someone who is an expert in this type of thing who wants 3 dozen home made chocolate chip cookies?I will gladly feed the face and belly of the person who can assist me in killing this browser interloper, usurper, seat filler.

Doug is whiney and needs his PC.

And on this note, I'm off. Gotta go clean up from dinner and just get the hell away from this stupid PC. Gah. I'm angry.

I can access my email from work... good thing. Don't know what I'd do other wise.

Cheers y'all.