Tag: computers

Gritty Determination

It was my birthday on April 2nd.  It’s worth noting that I missed being an official Fool by 6 hours.  It was a close call, but I planted my tiny feet on either side of the cervix and clung to the walls of the womb with nothing short of gritty determination despite Mom’s resolve to terminate my lease.  Apparently, I was over-due and some evil individual told her that drinking Cod Liver Oil would induce labour.  In my opinion, it was a terrible suggestion even if it was effective.  As a result, I developed a lifelong dislike of any fish that tastes like fish before I even vacated the womb.  Also, had it not been for that meddling Do-Gooder, I could have hung in there for an additional 2 or 3 days for a Larger-Than-6-Hour April’s Fool Buffer Zone.  Mom has been refusing to name the Meddling Do-Gooder in some misguided attempt to protect their privacy for 56 years now.

Anyway, moving on.

There is an issue in our household regarding Birthday Gifts.  Actually, it’s any gift when it comes right down to it – Christmas, Easter, Valentine’s Day, etc. because The Viking is The Most Difficult Person To Buy A Gift For On The Entire Planet!  And that’s a problem.  His closet is full of gift clothing that he never wears.  He has 4 different pairs of slippers.  I can’t buy him tools because he has every single tool ever invented and if he doesn’t already own it, it’s junk.  Princess Auto doesn’t have Gift Cards.  He doesn’t like steering wheel covers or other vehicular accessories.  I bought him a bathrobe in 2008 and that has been the only successful gift I’ve ever managed, and he isn’t likely to wear it out any time in the near or distant future because when I buy a bathrobe, I buy a good one.  And there comes a time when Nipple Tassels, a tiara, and a Kazoo aren’t a surprise anymore.

So, I’ve declared our household a Gift Free Zone.  I hate getting a gift when I can’t give one.  Nothing makes me feel worse than the inability to reciprocate.  Therefore, I don’t want any gifts.  Instead, I try to do nice things for him and make his favorite foods.  It’s lame and unsatisfying but I do what I can.

The kicker, of course, is that The Viking doesn’t play by the rules.  Ever.  I start daily instructions a full month in advance of any gift-giving occasion.  “DON’T BUY ME ANYTHING!!  I’M SERIOUS!  IF YOU BUY ME ANYTHING I’M GOING TO THROW IT IN THE GARBAGE!”  He promises sincerely but we both know by now that he doesn’t follow instructions very well.

This year I thought we had finally come to an understanding.  He got up early, made coffee and headed for the store.  There were flowers* and the sweetest Birthday card ever.  He treated me like a Queen all day long.  By the time we went to bed and no gift had shown up I was a happy lady.

Until last week when a parcel arrived at the front door.  We get packages all the time for the business, so I handed it over to The Viking without looking at it.

“That’s not for me.  It’s for you.”

Me:  WHAT?!

Him:  It’s for you.

Me:  Impossible.  I haven’t ordered anything.

Him:  It’s still for you.

Me (squinting and scowling ferociously):  What have you done?!

Him (shrugging):  …..

Me:  You promised!!

Him:  Whatever.  Open it.

Me:  I’m not finished threatening to hit you with the box yet.  Give me at least another 13 minutes.

You know, sometimes I don’t think The Viking takes my threats seriously enough.  I put in a great amount of time and effort manufacturing the most menacing and intimidating threats possible, so would it kill him to at least act a little scared?  Honestly!  I act terrified when he utters threats in my direction, it’s just good sportsmanship to extend the same courtesy.

So, I opened it.  And it was a fucking Tablet!!  A brand-new fucking Tablet!!  Not even a Refurbished Tablet!  It’s a total Virgin!  Geezus!!  I already have a tablet.  It’s broken at the moment because I dropped it one too many times, but The Viking ordered new switches for it – they were the wrong size, but he was just going to order the right switches this time.  Had the package contained only switches I would have graciously accepted them as a Birthday gift because they only cost $3.00.  A new Tablet is stepping waaaay over the line.  Bastard.

And now I have a new Tablet that I secretly love but feel terrible about loving because I haven’t been able to give The Viking anything that he loves so much he feels terrible about receiving.

It’s a trial.  Sigh.

*I deserve flowers again!  WooHoo!!

I’ve Been Scolded

I hate lectures that revolve around bad habits and lack of effort. Okay…….to be clear, I enjoy listening to lectures that involve other people’s bad habits and lack of effort, just not my own. I would find it endlessly entertaining if someone attempted to lecture The Viking. I wouldn’t recommend it, but it would be entertaining to watch if only for the cursing and tool throwing. If you think you’d like to give this a try, please let me know in advance so I can have a comfortable chair, goggles, old clothes and a glass of wine on hand. And maybe a camera.

Where was I? Oh yes – lectures. I especially hate lectures given by Computer Gurus – they are worse than doctors and born-again Christians. They get that condescending look on their face and say things like “Did you plug it in?” and “When was the last time you cleaned it?” So when my computer needed a restart and it didn’t come back to life, I said, “What the FUCK?! Start, damn you!”

When that didn’t work I threw my hands in the air, rolled my eyeballs, and yelled, “My computer won’t start!!”

The Viking’s supportive, caring and encouraging response was “I TOLD YOU NOT TO PLAY THOSE FUCKING GAMES!!”

After poking and fiddling with it, he decided I blew the video card again. AGAIN! He muttered about my fucking games some more and then bought a new video card. He pushed the power……and nothing. “What the FUCK?! Start, damn you!”

I said, “That’s what I said!”

After exhausting all his ideas and most of his curses, he admitted defeat. “Call Tommy.”

I heaved a sigh & shuddered. “He’s going to yell at me.” The Viking didn’t seem to have a fuck to give about that.

When Tommy arrived I tried to run, but he saw me and said “Freeze, Lady!”

I said, “Aaahhhaaggg!” and waved my hands over my head in frustration.  He laughed because we both know what comes next: the Lecture.

“Do you shut it down every night?”

“No.”

“When was the last time, before this, that you shut it down?”

“Um……7…no, 8 months ago because it threatened me.”

“When was the last time you cleaned it?”

“9 months ago.”

“Do you play online games?”

The Viking decided to take Tommy’s side in the matter. “I told her not to play those fucking games! I told her!!”

Sigh. “Yeeees. I play online games.” Flipping my middle finger at The Viking. Traitor.

“You need this computer for work, right?”

“Yes.”

“But you still play online games with it?”

“Yes. But I have a good Anti-Virus program and Malwarebytes!”

“You do know that online games are played by millions of people and if they get a virus, then you’ll get a virus blah blah blah blah blah…..”  The only thing missing here was a metal table, handcuffs and a bare lightbulb swinging slowly back and forth overhead.

“Can you fix it?” Really, that’s all I want to know.

The short answer came 6 hours later. “No. You need a new motherboard, one of your drives is fine, one can be saved and the other one is toast. My advice: build a new computer.”

Of course that’s his advice.

So, now I’ve been scolded and I have to pay, at a bare minimum, $1500 for a new computer and all the fucking programs. Dammit!

Stupid computer! That’s the problem with machines: they are ungrateful bastards that look for the first excuse to fuck you over. How am I supposed to relax now? Read for 4 hours a day? I fall asleep after 3 pages of a book nowadays and then the tablet falls out of my hand and lands on my toes and then I swear a lot. I almost never fall asleep in the middle of a mission on my games. I suppose I could finish that damned Cross Stitch Baby Blanket project that has been in my closet for 11 years. Or worse, I could clean.

I wish I could point a finger at someone and blame them, but I can’t. No one forced me to play computer games, but in my defense, if computers weren’t intended to play games they shouldn’t be making games for them. I’m only human after all. How much control do they think I have? I already battle temptations involving chocolate and Toffifee and jewelry and cake and shoes.

Now I will have a computer that is useless for anything other than work.  Sigh. The Computer Gawds are no friends of mine. Apparently.

Sharing is caring.

An Alarm Certificate, Testosterone and Apologies

Happy Weekend! If we were having coffee I would have to explain that I nearly destroyed 2 generations of one family this week. Without even trying. It’s just that easy for me.

It’s time to renew our company insurances, you see, which is stressful, to say the least. Luckily, we have an Insurance Broker Super Hero – Teri-Lynn. This year she pulled off a miracle and managed to get all our insurances under one provider which saves us a huge chunk of change! I only needed to contact our Alarm Company to get an Alarm Certificate and if I could get it quickly Teri-Lynn could submit it with all the other paperwork.

Three phone calls, one to a real person and two to answering machines, in 24 hours accomplished exactly nothing. So, I tried a different point of contact, hoping for better luck. I sent an email to the Alarm Company’s Contact Us page.

Dear Customer Support,

 My Account # is **-**** and my name is Lori *****.  My phone number is ***-***-****.

 I need an Alarm Certificate for Insurance purposes and I’ve made 3 attempts to get this certificate in the past 24 hours with zero success.  I’ve spoken with a real person once who assured me she would send one yesterday, and then I’ve left 1 message for Neem(?) and then another message in a generic mailbox.

 With that in mind, there are 3 things you should probably know about me.

 1.  I am 3 years 5 months and 23 days into menopause.

2.  My husband is a Viking.

3.  My Insurance Broker makes people cry.  Including me.

 These things may not mean much to you at the present but my lack of success in obtaining an Alarm Certificate is about to set off a chain of events that may impact you.

 First, my Insurance Broker is going to lose her shit because she has tomorrow off and how hard can it possibly be to get an Alarm Certificate?  Second, The Viking is going to hear my Insurance Broker lose her shit and he’s going to grab his Axe and Shield and start hollering curses and gesturing in my general direction (it’s actually as scary as it sounds).  That, in turn, will increase my stress which sets off Hot Flashes from Hell, extremely itchy skin and copious amounts of tears.  And then I’ll frantically call you over and over again, leaving louder and louder messages.

 I understand that you are probably a busy person and I’m sorry that I have to be so forthright, but an Alarm Certificate shouldn’t be this difficult to get.  I know you have my email address because a) the lady from yesterday read it back to me, b) I receive emails from you all the time that I never read and delete quickly and c) this note is being sent to you from my email.

 So, I’m appealing to the sweet, efficient person in you to please help me avoid all this drama and send me an Alarm Certificate.  Especially since I accidentally broke the arm strap on the back of The Viking’s Shield and haven’t had a chance to fix it yet.

 Sincerely,

Lori

 

15 minutes later I received this email:

Lori

I will have the cert sent to you today.

Please start reading my emails you might just find them entertaining

Sean (from the Contact Us Page of the Alarm Company)

Uh!  Oh!

 7 minutes later, I received this email:

Hi Lori,

Please find the attached certificate below.

 Thanks  Reem (the woman I left messages for at the Alarm Company)

YES!!! SUCCESS!!!

via GIPHY

But the thrill of success wore off eventually and I started thinking about poor Sean. In my campaign to get that damned Certificate I completely relegated Sean to a Meaningless Person of No Consequence. If I had thought about it for a brief second I might have considered that the regular emails I get and delete weren’t sent by a computer at all but by an actual human being. Maybe Sean really likes his job, it fulfills him, makes him feel needed and respected and then I come along and totally destroy him!

Or maybe he has a wife and children he’s grooming to take over the business of sending monthly updates and offers to customers? I might have wiped out the dreams and aspirations of two entire generations of one family!

I really suck!

Well, I can’t leave poor Sean and all the Little Seans to wallow in defeat. I will make this right!

Dear Sean,

 Apparently, in my laser-focused quest to acquire my Alarm Certificate, collateral damage occurred. I feel terrible about that. I’ve heard of Collateral Damage happening, usually in times of war, but never thought that I would be the cause of it during peace time.

 I’ve given this considerable thought since I received your email and I think I may have found the reason for my thoughtlessness.

Testosterone.

You may not know this but as men age their testosterone levels drop and their estrogen levels rise, which explains why old guys pull their pants up so high – they are looking for their feminine waistline. And just as age affects men, it also affects women (which sucks because I am one). As a woman ages, she produces less estrogen and begins producing more testosterone which is why old women buy so many tweezers – it’s for plucking chin hair.  I know this for certain because I felt a fucking whisker on my chin while I was in the middle of writing my plea for an Alarm Certificate.  And once a woman feels a whisker on her face her entire focus shifts to the immediate removal of the offending whisker. 

 Being 3 years, 5 months and 24 days into menopause, my testosterone levels must be higher than I realized.  I did one of those tests on Facebook to see if your thinking is more feminine or more masculine and I scored 90% Man and only 10% Woman.  I asked The Viking if I’ve been more man-ly lately but without the expletives I’m not sure what his grunted reply indicated.

So, in absence of better scientific data I’ve decided to err on the side of caution and apologize for my thoughtless words.

 Please accept my profound apologies. In future, when I receive an email from Alarm Company, I will read it thoroughly. I’m sure I will enjoy them immensely. I would also like to send you some Maple Brown Sugar Cookies as further proof of my regret. I would offer Chocolate Chip cookies but, to be honest, Maple Brown Sugar Cookies are my favorite and I would just make a double batch, send you half, and then drown my sorrow in the other half.

 Sincerely,

Lori

I think that should do it. I accepted full responsibility, right? UPS delivers cookies don’t they?

So, how was your week? Did you almost destroy anyone by accident?

Thanks to Nerd in the Brain for Hosting The Weekend Coffee Share.

Updates, Profanity & Apricot Brandy

I received an email the other day regarding my Simply Accounting software. Usually when I get these I delete them without a second look, but this time, for some reason, I scanned the message quickly until my eyes found the words ‘database corruption’ and then I fainted. When I woke up I read it more carefully. Here are the highlights of the email:

Good Afternoon Lori,

 I am your Account Manager at Sage 50 Canada.

 I am emailing you as a courtesy as our records indicate your version of Sage 50 is obsolete and no longer supported.

Some updates on your Windows operating system may be incompatible with your actual version of Sage 50/Simply Accounting which may generate, in some situations, a database corruption.

C…

via GIPHY

 Long story short, I gave him my Mastercard and he sent me an email with instructions. Evidently, my software was so obsolete I had to download a 2015.3 file before I could download the 2017 Edition. I asked him if a monkey could follow the instructions he was sending me and he assured me that even a monkey could perform the required skills.

Once my software was updated and working properly, I sent C. an email.

via GIPHY

Hey C,

It worked! I only had one small hitch.

The 2015.3 Download asked me a question about activation keys and in a blind panic I started stabbing the Serial Number and Activation Key into the spaces and it got all irritated and said it didn’t know me well enough for that kind of intimacy and I said that it shouldn’t be asking me any questions then, and it said I was annoying, so I yelled “You started it!” and then it said that it didn’t like my tone, and I said I didn’t like it’s tone when it said it didn’t like my tone, and then it said “You’re Activation Number is WRONG!” so I said ‘FINE! I’M LEAVING!’ and decided to ignore it completely and move on to the 2017 Download and the 2015.3 yelled ‘GOOD RIDDANCE!’

You may get a complaint. In my defense, I am 3 years into Menopause, the batteries in my mouse just died and I wasn’t expecting any questions from that Download. There is a slight possibility I may have over-reacted. I always expect the worst of updates and upgrades; baggage from a failed upgrade to the original Star Craft, I suppose. It’s a fault I should work on but probably won’t.

The 2017 Download took several long moments to berate me for my obsolete Sage 50 Edition. Apparently it barely recognized the files involved. I tried to explain that I liked my Edition – there were no surprises, I knew exactly how to do everything, we were friends! 2017 wasn’t impressed and I suspect it actually rolled its eyes at me.

When it finally finished desecrating my files and opened the new dashboard….well……there was a little bit of profanity. From me, not 2017. It looks terrible! It’s all modern and font-y and dull! It’s like the décor in the Space Shuttle! I like a little color, a few wrinkles, some fraying around the edges…..some personality! My old man is gone and some sort of Accountant-y guy showed up. It’s horrible!  Hideous!

But then I opened up a new invoice and…….there he was!!! He’s not gone! Someone put a really ugly suit on him but his underwear is exactly the same! Happy, happy, happy!

Overall, this process was less painful than I thought it would be. Good work! The only way it could have been better is if you sent someone directly to my house to help me with deep breathing techniques while the upgrade had its way with my files. I realize this might be unnecessary for most people so maybe you could just offer it to women well into Menopause. And a bottle of Apricot Brandy would go a long way in getting me to keep my software up-to-date.

Wait. Are you in charge of all obsolete Sage customers? Am I your worst? Maybe I was your only project! Did Sage create an entire department to talk me into upgrading?! If that’s the case, sending me Apricot Brandy might put you out of a job. So, how about you give me Apricot Brandy and I promise not to upgrade for another 5 years.

 Sincerely,

C. didn’t strike me as a guy with a good sense of humour though. He might not appreciate my thoughts at all but that wasn’t the point of writing the email. The point was – he pried my Mastercard number out of my extremely reluctant hands while holding my files hostage and that sort of thing requires a lengthy response. Especially when it costs me the kind of money Sage wants for their Accounting program.

3 hours later…..

Huh! Apparently, I was completely wrong about C:

via GIPHY

Hahaha, that made for some very good post-lunch reading material! 

Apricot Brandy is a good start, I’d prefer a nice 18-year single malt, but hey a drink is a drink. Hope everything is working out well for you, let me know if you need anything else, and I’ll definitely get it sorted.

Thanks Lori!

Waaaaait a minute……

via GIPHY

I think you are confused, C. I wasn’t going to send you Apricot Brandy. You were supposed to send me Apricot Brandy. It’s nice to know that you like 18 Year Single Malt though, in case I need to bribe you or something. I would definitely send you 18 Year Single Malt for a software related favour in a distant future.

 Wait. Are your emails monitored? Maybe I shouldn’t be throwing around words like ‘bribe’ and ‘favour’. If you get in trouble, let me know, I’m sure I can fix it.

 PS: Everything is working perfectly.

I was trying to save the guy’s job and he suddenly thinks I should send him whatever the hell 18 Year Single Malt is? And who considers any old drink as good as another old drink? I’m talking Apricot Brandy here – there is no equivalent. If someone handed me a glass of Sambuca and told me it’s as good as Apricot Brandy….well, there would be profanity and then a lesson on the finer points of drinking spirits.

Excellent happy to hear that.

Yes, I’m sure bribe and favor would be frowned upon haha.

No worries Lori

Take care

 I bet he never sends me Apricot Brandy.

A Primal Scream and Maple Brown Sugar Drop Cookies – Part 1

My website stopped working 3 days ago. I tried everything to get into my Admin site and it all failed. The only clue I had was this warning, “There was an error retrieving your site settings. Make sure your Jetpack is up to date”.  How can I update Jetpack if I can’t get into my site?

So I sent Jetpack Support the following message on their Support Form.

I get HTTP 500 Internal Server Error when I attempt to access my admin site.

When I go through Word Press and try to access I get this error:

There was an error retrieving your site settings. Make sure your

Jetpack is up to date.

 I can’t update my Jetpack because I can’t get into either the wp-admin site or the .com site.”

The Form said it could be anywhere from 24 to 48 hours before I heard back from Jetpack.  Moan.

The following day, just for shits and giggles, I tried logging into my site AND IT WORKED! I hadn’t done anything, it just healed itself! Wonderful, but how is this possible? It is working perfectly.

This morning I received this from Jetpack:

We’re sorry you’re experiencing an issue.

 We only see one site associated with your ******** WordPress.com account, your self-hosted, WordPress.org Jetpack site, www.mrs-completely.com.

 What is the address of the WordPress.com site you’re referring to?

 Also, if you are not able to access the Dashboard of your self-hosted, WordPress.org site, please reach out to your site host for assistance, as they should be able to help you regain access to the site.

Once we get some feedback, we can take the next troubleshooting step in resolving your issue.

 Best,

Paul C. | Happiness Engineer | WordPress.com

Brilliant. So I confused them AND I don’t need them anymore. I hate it when this happens and I have to write a reply that admits my incompetence. I wish I didn’t have to but I’m an adult so apparently I can’t just hope it all goes away without any input from me. So:

Hi Paul,

SIGH! So the next day I thought I would take a chance and the stupid site loaded without any problems at all! This is like taking my car to the mechanic because it makes a horrible squealing sound and then it won’t make the sound for the mechanic but as soon as I leave the shop it starts squealing again. Gawd! Of course, I have The Viking now so this is no longer an issue but still……. The truth is that I panicked, because I have no idea how all this stuff works together. The Internet Gawd pointed the finger at Jetpack and like a panicky beast with the Dumb I fired off a primal scream on your Support Form. I’m 50. And menopausal. And I may or may not have been in the middle of a hot flash when I hit ‘Submit’. That’s my excuse. It’s up to you whether you believe it or not.

However, we’ve both learned something in the past couple of days. I’ve learned that there is actually someone on the other end of the Jetpack Support Form. Too many online Support Forms are there only to give the illusion that someone gives a shit if you have a problem. Jetpack has Happiness Engineers though! That must be the best fucking job on the planet! Wait. You do get paid, don’t you? Because I’m a Happiness Engineer too except they call me a Wife or a Mother and I get nothing for wages. Or vacation. Or sick days. You probably aren’t paid enough either, are you?

You’ve learned that Menopausal Women who don’t understand how this shit works can panic in glitchy situations. We’ve survived child birth and shopping trips with 3 children under the age of 4 and our husband getting a vasectomy and horrible in-laws and a whole slew of other crap but when our blog goes down for a day we lose our shit. You might want to put a button on the Support Form for ‘Menopausal Women Who Don’t Understand How This Shit Works’. And the automated reply saying you’ve received our Primal Scream could say things like “It’s okay, have some booze.” OR “We understand this is the last fucking thing you need today so we will hurry to help you.” OR “You’re not stupid. Just confused. Here’s a hug.”

 Anyway, please accept my apologies for bothering you. I can send you Brownies as a consolation/apology gift if you’d like. I make amazing Brownies. Oh! Or Maple Brown Sugar Drop Cookies! They are delicious! Please ask for these so I have an excuse to make a double batch and eat half of them myself.

I can only hope that he accepts my apologies and that the next time I hurl the Primal Scream on the Jetpack Support Form he won’t reply with a Turd emoji.

turd-emoji