Some Assembly Required - Sense of Humor Not Included......

I will have to apologize in advance to my buddy Maggie and her man-friend ITSam. I am sure that ITSam is the exception to the rule I will expound upon within the confines of this blog post.

Is it a requirement that technology types have no sense of humor? Computer geeks have no funny bone? Network nerds have no tickle box?

A couple of weeks ago, I got some strange message of death on my school computer, something about the LDUEAHN (or some other random selection of capital letters) not being found. Our secretary emailed the technician assigned to our school, because a computer-based school should NOT have an I.T. guy on the premises at all times, no sirree.

When he showed up on the premises a day or three later, he immediately unplugged the tower and said he would need to take it with him. I said something along the lines of, "Can't you just bring me another one?" I explained that it wouldn't read a flash drive, I had to walk ALL the way around my desk and plug one in the back of the unit, and the CD drive wouldn't open anymore.

He looked at me in all seriousness and said, "I don't just have a stash of these to give away." He didn't crack a smile.

Because my unit had been making grinding noises that sounded like a Cessna 182 that would NEVER get off the ground, I said to him, "It sounded so bad I was afraid it was going to take off a couple of times." He replied that there was no way it was going to take off, not with a message like the one I had received.

Well duh.

He unplugged the flash drive I had left in the back and left it on my desk.

A week or two later (or it may have been the next day), he brought my unit back.

He explained that the problem was that there had been a flash drive plugged into the back of the unit when I turned it on. It was trying to boot from the flash drive instead of the thingamajig it usually boots from.

HE unplugged the flash drive. Shouldn't he have thought of that? I actually had the fleeting thought myself, based upon back in the old days when I would leave a floppy disk (remember those?) in the drive and the computer would try to boot from that. Because it said something was MISSING, though, I didn't give it a whole lot of thought. Besides, if HE didn't think of it, I wasn't going to mention it.

He did replace the CD drive, though, and I think I was supposed to give him a trophy or something for it.

Then he explained about the computer not reading the flash drive in the front of the computer.

Have you ever bought a new computer (camera, video recorder, GPS unit, iPad, iPhone, dozen eggs, scented candle, Snuggie, African Violet, baseball cap, jar of dry roasted peanuts) and found one of these in the box?

I had seen them before, and when he mentioned it, I found one in my desk drawer. I had no idea what it was.

Apparently not all flash drives are created equal. The ones that my computer wouldn't read are apparently "inferior" (read: cheap) and the little silver piece that plugs into the computer isn't as long as the "superior" (read: expensive) ones.

This little cord fixes that. You plug your cheapie flash drive into one end, and the other end is the appropriate length for plugging into a USB port.

Huh.

That would explain why I was unable to scan on a flash drive from my printer/scanner/copier/fax machine, in spite of the fact that it clearly had a USB drive.

You learn something new every day.

I wish technology would slow down just a tad, just long enough for the I.T. guys to go to humor school.

Crock Pot Candy.......

I don't normally post recipes on my blog, because APPARENTLY SOMEONE HAS CORNERED THE MARKET ON THAT. However, I mentioned in my Seven Deadly Sins Meme post that one of my guilty pleasures is crock pot candy. Kelly was intrigued and asked me about it in a comment, and I promised her I would post the recipe. To be honest, I haven't made it recently, mainly BECAUSE it is a guilty pleasure.

This recipe was included in my bank statement one month several years ago, and I thought it sounded A) easy; and B) chocolaty. Two points for each of those characteristics. I usually make it around the holidays and give little individual packages to friends and co-workers. Unless I'm feeling particularly Bah-humbuggy, in which case I make a batch of it and PRETEND to give it to friends and family but instead climb into the crock pot and swim around in it.

Crock Pot Candy

1 jar (16-oz.) dry roasted peanuts, unsalted

1 jar (16-oz.) dry roasted peanuts, salted

1 pkg. (12-oz.) semi-sweet chocolate chips

1 bar (4-oz.) German chocolate, broken into pieces

3 lbs. (or 2 planks) white bark, broken into pieces

Put ingredients into a 4 or 5 quart crock pot in order listed. Cover and cook 3 hours on low. DO NOT REMOVE LID. Turn off and cool slightly. Mix thoroughly and drop by teaspoonfuls onto waxed paper. Let cool thoroughly. Approximately 170 pieces. (Yeah, right). 

I made a batch of this and sent it to Sweet Girl when she was on one of her Persian Gulf cruises. It was also a big hit at our family reunion. I've had the idea to make a large container of it and auction it off one year, but I haven't followed through with the thought.

I've wanted to try some variations, too, but I haven't gotten around to THAT either. I would like to try it with almonds instead of peanuts and add coconut. (Can you say Crock Pot Almond Joy?) Or maybe peanut butter added to the mix. Would that be too much peanutty goodness? Or maybe pecans and caramel.

Why don't some of YOU try one of these variations and send me a sample get back to me with the results? It could be fun.

Ladder of Years by Anne Tyler......

I finished reading this book a couple of weeks ago, and the fact that I forgot to include its review in my blog is probably an indication of my opinion of it.

I like Anne Tyler's writing, and I appreciate that she often writes about middle-aged women. This one just didn't do it for me, though. 

I was also a little embarrassed to discover that it was published in 1995. Maybe that explains why it was free on my Kindle. 

Really, is there any point in writing about a book that's sixteen years old? 

Delia Grinstead (really, I didn't even like her name) is a 40-year-old woman married to a doctor. She has a chance encounter with a much younger man in a grocery store who wants her to pretend to be his girlfriend because his soon-to-be-ex-wife is in the same grocery store with HER new boyfriend. Delia plays along, then gets slightly infatuated with the guy, seeks him out, they indulge in heavy petting but never get around to sex, only his soon-to-be-ex-mother-in-law THINKS they do, so she shows up at Delia's house, and all of that has almost NOTHING to do with the plot.

When Delia was first described in the book, I had a mental image of her as a doddering, dowdy, frumpy old woman. When I discovered that she was actually forty - FORTY!!!!! - I couldn't fix the mental image. And I was more than a little insulted. Either she acts way older than her years, or I still haven't grown up yet. Put your hands down, I wasn't asking for your input. 

During a family vacation at the beach, Delia just up and walks away from her husband and her three (almost grown) children. Keeps on walking, gets in a truck with a repairman of some sort (plumber? roofer?) and has him drop her off in another town. She finds a boarding house, gets a job, works for a while, makes some new friends in the new town, takes another job. The new job involves keeping house and being there for a recently-separated man's eleven-year-old son. In other words - Delia is right back to doing all the things she walked away from and resented. 

Anne Tyler's style makes for easy reading, and the plot was just interesting enough to keep me reading, wondering if Delia would ever return to her family and how her new relationships would impact her old ones.

I'm not telling you the end.

It wasn't a painful read, just not a compelling one.

The Seven Deadly Sins Meme.......

I'm not a big fan of memes, but I found this one intriguing. Besides, it's much more interesting than writing about how many sun-filled activities I tried to pack into one day yesterday, or about how for the first time in two (or three?) years I was able to zip up my life jacket. Only I think they're called Personal Flotation Devices now, because everything has to have letters these days, and LJ doesn't have the same zing that a PFD does.

I stole this one from Evil Pixie, who stole it from Sunday Stealing.

Here goes.

Pride. Seven great things about yourself.

1. I have a good sense of humor.
2. I can write pretty well.
3. I know my grammar and spelling.
4. I can sing.
5. I'm a loyal friend.
6. I'm competitive, but mostly against myself.
7. I can be insanely happy all by myself. (But I love other people too.)

Envy. Seven things you lack and covet.

1. Season tickets for football
2. Straight hair
3. A good figure.
4. Fifteen pounds of miniature Reese's Peanut Butter Cups (guess this doesn't go with #3)
5. Frequent flier miles
6. A degree in math.

Wrath. Seven things that piss you off.

1. Injustice
2. Intolerance
3. Insecurity
4. Dependence
5. Homeowner's insurance that just jumped from $400 to $700
6. Not being able to sleep
7. Learned helplessness

Sloth. Seven things you neglect to do.

1. Housework
2. Balancing the checkbook(s)
3. Filing papers at school
4. Prepare lunch the night before (but I did tonight)
5. Routine mending of clothing (hems, buttons)
6. The Great Shoe Purge
7. Grocery shop (more a matter of procrastination than neglect)

Greed. Seven worldly material desires.

1. A convertible BMW
2. A color laser printer
3. A bigger Harley. With a windshield. Is that two things?
4. A triple bicycle
5. A new house with real closets. And a garage.
6. Twenty acres of land
7. A jacuzzi

Gluttony. Seven guilty pleasures.

1. Mario Brothers on the Wii
2. Hours and hours of reading
3. Crock pot candy
4. Floating in the pool
5. Really hot showers
6. Quiet time
7. Listening to the same song over and over in the car

Lust. Seven love secrets.

1. Yeah........ No

Saved by a Text Message......

I know a lot of people say that text messaging has become so ubiquitous that it has become another area for possible social misbehavior. People don't know when NOT to text, and we have reached the point where we feel we MUST be available to EVERYONE at ALL TIMES.

We tell our students they can't text in school, then almost all of us frequently send text messages during the day. My only defense is that SOMETIMES those messages are going to students who can't be in school (they're sick, their babies are sick, they're on school-sponsored field trips). My other defense, and the one I use most often, isn't a defense at all. It's a cop-out. I say to them, "With rank comes privilege. When you have a college degree, you can text at school too."

All that being said, I have to say there is another side to this issue. Text messaging may just be able to save a marriage or two.

Here is a text message chain between Hubby and me today, right after I knocked over a 5-gallon container of used motor oil in our basement. It wouldn't have been so bad if I had NOTICED I knocked it over. I came back a few minutes later and thought, "WTH, what's this black lake in the basement?" Hubby was at the golf course.

Me: Uhhhhh..... I just made a huge mess in the basement. I will have moved out when you get home.

Hubby: Does it call for mopping or body repair? [This was a result of his fear that I had done something to his precious 1969 Ford truck that lives in our basement.]

Me: If you can mop oil.......

Hubby: Put cat litter on it.

Me: Okay. It's under your motorcycle and I don't dare move it.

Hubby: Sprinkle litter. I'll sweep when I get home. May need more litter. Not too thick.

Me: I'll have to get more when I get Gus. [He was being groomed.] Did I mention huge? Maybe not Lake Superior but definitely Erie.

Hubby: B ok.

Me: Sorry I'm so clumsy.

Can you imagine how that exchange might have gone if Hubby had actually been here when I kicked over the oil? Or if the little "surprise" had greeted him when he put his golf clubs in the basement when he got home? I assure you, it wouldn't have been pretty. Even if he HADN'T cursed and yelled, he would have given me that look, at which point I would have cursed and yelled, and it might have turned into an argument. And we don't argue much. Except over little things like whether or not we should knock a wall out of our house and do thousands of dollars of renovations just so our house can accommodate a USED bedroom suit that Hubby wants.

I'm still waiting for his last text, which I'm POSITIVE should have said:

That's okay. I shouldn't have left the oil sitting there in the first place.

OR

Not your fault. I should have taken that oil to the recycling place a long time ago.

OR

No problem. I should have taken you up on one of the bazillion times you've suggested we work together to clean out the basement.

I'll let you know when THAT message comes in.

So Close but So Far.....

Today Rozmo and I did a bike ride down in central Georgia that we've done a few times before. I don't get to do it every year because sometimes there is a conflict with the gymnastics schedule. This year Katydid couldn't go, so it was just Rozmo and me.

The weather was absolutely gorgeous. Perfect day for riding. It was a little chilly at the beginning, but it warmed up to somewhere around 71 degrees by the time it was over. I was able to wear only a short-sleeved jersey and knickers, no jacket or arm warmers, and I was fine. I got a little sunburned on my arms and face (Sweet Girl calls it my "raccoon look" where I get sun around my sunglasses).

At the first rest stop I had averaged 16.5 mph. GET OUT OF HERE! If you read my post from last Saturday, you may remember that I was thrilled with a 14.5 average. I knew the 16.5 wouldn't hold up over the whole ride, but I was hoping for 15 mph. I even used my 11:11 wish on it.

Toward the end of the ride, though, it got windy. It's nearly impossible to combat the wind on a bike. And it's always a headwind, no matter which way you turn. I was also quite tired, because I was riding HARD trying to maintain that average speed. And watching it drop like a rock. At about 6 miles from the end, I changed the display on the bike's GPS so I couldn't see the average anymore. It was making me crazy(er).

As you can see by the graphic below, I almost succeeded. I had a 14.9 average over the whole day, which isn't 15 mph or 16.5, but it's not too shabby for this (almost) 50-year-old.

My knees are sore, along with my sitting-down-place, and I'm sure I'll sleep well tonight. Particularly with the help of some pain PM tablets.

Guest Post......

The Warrior Princess inadvertently provided tonight's material in an email today. I am only using it with her permission, though.

I am not usually impartial enough when it comes to our college gymnastics team that I can defend even their obvious flaws.

Can't point her toes? SHE CAN'T HELP IT!
A little on the hefty side? THAT'S GENETICS, NOT DESSERTS!
Trouble landing that vault without a huge step back? BUT SHE'S CUTE! AND SHE'S A WALK-ON!
Falling off the beam on a regular basis? SHE'S BEEN INJURED!
Falling off the FLOOR? BUT HER MUSIC IS GREAT!

Today, however, I was presented with a quote from one of our seniors - A SENIOR!!!! - that made me put my head in my hand at first, then I wanted to claw my own eyes out.

The UGA website has a column called "Ask the Gym Dogs" that they run every other week or so, in which fans can email questions for one or more of the gymnasts or coaches.

One of this week's questions was directed at our two seniors, asking when they anticipate graduating and what their future plans are.

One of them replied that she is considering adding a second major, which would delay her graduation until May of 2012, and give her a season in which she could work with the team as a student coach.

The other one? I'm going to copy and paste here, because I don't want there to be any chance I have misconstrued her words: "I will be graduating this May!  As of right now, I will be going back home to Las Vegas and I want to go to hair school!  I'll definitely keep involved with the sport somehow too!"

Here's where the Warrior Princess comes in. I emailed her the link to the story and asked (sort of) what she thought about it.

Her reply in red, my comments follow:

I cannot believe what I just read.  First of all, "hair school?????"  Is her vocabulary no bigger than THAT?!  Exactly. If you've been to college for four years, shouldn't you know a 5-syllable word like "cosmetology"?

And secondly, YOU HAVE A FOUR-YEAR DEGREE IN SOMETHING -- ANYTHING OTHER THAN "HAIR SCHOOL" -- AND YOU WANT TO BE A COSMETOLOGIST???   Um...yeah. Her major is Child and Family Development. I'm not knocking cosmetologists, and heaven knows I could use a good one (but I'm not going to Las Vegas for a haircut every five or six weeks). But surely there's something she can do with that degree that she earned (and I helped pay for?) by twisting, tumbling, flipping, and dancing for four years.

And thirdly, why would ANYBODY let her "do" their hair -- LOOK AT HERS!!!
For this one, only a picture will suffice.

I am a true fan, and I love her dearly. She is darling, and her mom is just as real as those moms get.

But seriously? SERIOUSLY? Hair school?

I sincerely hope you've got a few more 9.9's in you this season.