I Always Blame It On Albert

It wasn't that long ago that I started using a wireless keyboard and a wireless mouse. If I wanted, I could sit all the way across the room and blog. Well, I could if I could see the monitor that far away. I could not see that far away, but still it was nice not having a cord attached and adding the extra pull of a cord especially on the mouse.

So computer life should have been easy for me, but...

I don't even know how to describe the problem with my computer other than it was already aggravating before the double click issue.

"What is a double click issue?," you may be thinking, so let me explain. When I click on ANYTHING, it will not just click it once, but it will always click it automatically two or three times.

Not a big deal?

Oh yes, it is a huge deal. Try highlighting a passage as it starts and immediately stops the highlighting process because it double clicks. Oh wait! Even more aggravating is when I close one screen and the one under it also closes because the computer makes it go click, click.

Poof!

Gone.

The most apparent way that it affected me was in my community. Every time I posted in a discussion, it would double post. It became a huge joke that I double posted all the time!

I have been blaming it all on Albert!

Albert has failed me!

Hopefully you remember that Albert is my computer and he is named after Albert Einstein. You get the connection - very smart guy and very smart computer.

Anyway, I just keep blaming Albert and I've had nothing nice to say about him lately.

Yesterday I had to makeup with Albert. Yep, I had to apologize for thinking he was the cause of my double clicking problem.

While staring at the monitor and typing my recipe post for Shrimp Tomato Pepper Spaghetti, I noticed something flashing in the bottom bar. So I hovered over it and a little popup informed me that my "Wireless Optical Mouse batteries are critical."



Well, that would have been an easy fix, but I couldn't find any AA batteries.

So I retrieved my old mouse with the cord, plugged it in and disabled the wireless mouse. Wiggling the old mouse around a little let me know that it was connected and would work properly.

After just a few minutes I noticed that I was no longer having the double clicking problem.

No!

Seriously?

It can't be true!

I said to myself, "After all this time, Albert wasn't the one causing me grief?"

Nope, it wasn't Albert.

My problem all along has been a mouse! Not the squeak-squeak, "I want cheese" mouse though, it has been the click-click, scroll mouse.

I can't believe it was such a simple fix!

So I have made up with Albert and today I didn't double post, have any problems with copying, nor have I accidentally closed my screens.

Yes, the simple things in life sure make a huge difference, but so does getting rid of a rogue mouse.

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When You Drop A Pin...

When teaching someone about Excel spreadsheets, I try to interject that the power of the program can be fun and exciting. Usually, I am met with either blank stares or "the look" flashes across their face betraying hidden thoughts that probably sound something like, "I wonder if she has always been this crazy nerd or if it is a new affliction?"

Of course, once I have my teeth in a potential victim, there is no way I will let them loose without enlightening them on the great powers of Excel, even if only a little bit.

Since most people will respond more appreciatively when offered pictures to enhance the learning experience, I try to encourage them through humor, albeit sometimes dry and as Alyssa would say, "lame." Can you believe this child that insisted on kicking me the whole time I carried her in the womb would have the nerve to say my humor is lame? Well, believe it!

Anyway, my mother is a seamstress and she sewed all my childhood clothing until I learned to do it for myself at the ripe old age of sixteen. When sewing, no matter how careful the seamstress is with the pins, inevitably one or more will hit the floor. If the pin lands on a tile or wood floor, they are easily found and put away. However, if dropped on a carpeted floor, the pin is easily missed even upon close inspection while on hands and knees. I actually think that the pin sprouts legs and burrows itself into the carpeting - hiding on purpose.

What is the big deal about a pin in the carpeting?

It would not have been a big deal except that we did not and do not wear shoes in the house. So a renegade pin and a bare foot do not make a great combination. Maybe you are beginning to understand the agony I am about to inflict upon your senses.

After a brief explanation of my childhood woes to my perspective student (my point of view) or victim (their point of view), I continue with the advantages of Excel formulas, worksheets and graphs.

Their attention wanes quickly.

Just then, I say, "Do you want to see the kind of graph that you can make with a little knowledge of Excel?"

I would not really describe their answer as exuberant, but my enthusiasm makes up for their ignorance of the true bliss that a nerd can feel when working with spreadsheets.

"Sure," they respond.

Perfect! They have agreed! This is my opportunity to pull them in a little further, so I pop this graph onto the monitor...





Almost every time, their head slowly turns towards me in total disbelief. Not an, "I am so excited that you are going to teach me how to do this too," kind of look, but more of a, "I wish the vacuum would suck you up too."

Can you believe the ingratitude? I am sure, now that you have seen this simple graph, you too want to set up a time for Excel training.

Hello?

Anybody out there?

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Bathing Wastes Water

We've all learned that being good stewards of the planet includes not wasting our water supply. It is just common knowledge. So if you know me, tie yourself to the chair or better yet, just lay down (Is that "lay" or "lie" because I can't ever remember which to use?) on the couch with the laptop while you read because I don't want you to hit your head as you fall out from shock. It's going to get stinky.

My grandmother, lovingly referred to as Mam-Maw, needed everything to be clean and she handed down,depending on your point of view, that flaw, passion, obsession or fantastic characteristic to the members of her family. She spent almost every spare minute performing some act of cleaning. The rest of her waking hours were spent in being of service to my grandfather, Gran-Gran.

When I visited every weekend, she put me to work dusting a billion knick-knacks and I do not exaggerate a bit. I also re-folded the dishtowels that filled a huge drawer in the kitchen, cleaned the glass on the doors, swept the porches and fetched her a million things to help throughout the day.

By the time night rolled around, it was time to bathe. Of course, Mam-Maw had already made me wash my hands a ton of times, so I didn't think I was all that dirty. I loved sitting in the bathtub and so I willingly bathed thinking that I would then be clean.

But, no, no, no. I was wrong.

After sitting in the bathe tub so long that my fingers and toes were as wrinkled as a thousand year old woman, I slipped into my flannel pajamas and slippers while proclaiming myself to be, "All clean!" I would later learn that one is never truly all clean because there is at least one more thing that can be cleaned.

That has been the routine passed down from generation to generation. One of the greatest joys in life is taking a shower that lasts so long, all the hot water is drained from the hot water heater. That takes about twenty to thirty minutes, so I really enjoy the relaxation of water beating down on my usually tired, achy muscles.

Let's jump back a week...

Alyssa turned eighteen years old. I've known this was going to happen for quite a while. Okay, so I've been expecting that day for eighteen years and nine months, but who is counting?

As excited as she was to hit the milestone, I was excited and saddened equally. It is a beautiful miracle looking at your own child who has turned into a beautiful woman while knowing that you had a huge part in molding her life. Believe me when I say, I've spent more time with my child than the average parent which is why I was also very sad too at her age accomplishment. My little girl has grown up and no longer needs me to brush her teeth, pick out her clothes, cut her food, and a billion other things that I found to be totally fulfilling.

Yes, this post is still discussing bathing...just hang on and keep your twitchy finger off the mouse clicker.

Uh, huh. I do have a spy camera set up in your house, so I can see you.

Anyway, last week the transmission in my car went to car-parts-Heaven. I can't really complain because I've known it was "going" for two years, but just because I drive a twelve year old car, doesn't mean that I'm ready to get a new vehicle yet. The song from "My Fair Lady" says it best:

I've grown accustomed to his face,
He almost makes the day begin,
I've grown accustomed to the tune he whistles night and noon.
His smiles, his frowns,
His ups his downs are second nature to me know
Like breathing out and breathing in.

I was so really independent and content before we met,
Surely i could always be that way again and yet
I've grown accustomed to his looks...

Yeah, I have a love affair with my car. I'm going to have to save for awhile before I can renew that relationship.

I also had a two hour session with my therapist. Ah, yes, the therapist. I have to see him all the time because as much as I would like to "pray it away," or "drug it away," I must cope with my PTSD to make it go away.

Cope.

*sigh* I'm trying.

Adding to the list is the pressure to complete my new blog redesign. So in the midst of all the messes in my life, I have been learning more coding techniques and trying to be creative.

That's where the bathing comes in...

I had Friday off from work, so I didn't set my alarm the night before which caused me to sleep until noon. It was a very weird feeling to wake up so late, but a weirdness I enjoyed.

Anyway, I jumped up and started looking at my new blog design with a fresh eye. I coded, researched, read, looked at it all critically, then coded some more.

Breakfast was combined with a quick lunch and I didn't cook dinner.

I was really in a groove by the time 10:00 p.m. rolled around.

No, I had no intention of quitting to go to bed yet!

Everyone else went to bed.

The phone stopped ringing.

Silence permeated my home except for the clicking of the computer keyboard and mouse.

I started to feel a little tired, but I just rubbed my eyes and persevered. I was rather surprised when a voice said, "You are still up?! It's morning!"

That's when I turned to look out the window which proved a new bright and sunny day had arrived. I had not moved from my chair since 10:00 p.m. the night before and it was now 6:30 a.m. Saturday.

So I did what any normal person would do...I ate breakfast which revived me with more energy to continue my coding research and implementation. I took a two hour nap and upon waking, my subconscious had helped me decide on some answers to a few questions that were running through my mind.

I ran to the computer and started typing. Before I knew it, the clock in the corner of my computer monitor read 1:35 a.m. Sunday morning. It was Easter.

THAT'S when it hit me.

I had barely moved from my chair and had missed baths on:

• Friday morning (groggily walked to my computer)
• Friday night (is just a blur of typing)
• Saturday morning (can't believe it arrived so quickly)
• Saturday night (well, 1:35 a.m. Sunday is still Saturday night, right?)

I apparently am not as obsessed with cleanliness as Mam-Maw or at least not as much as I am at working on the internet. To put everyone's mind at ease, I did finally bathe and drained the hot water heater. I used all the water I saved from not bathing at one fell swoop (Macbeth, 1605 - Didn't know I was so well versed?). Obviously, bathing may be a waste of water for some people, but I'm not giving up my great showers. I'm sure my family and friends are glad of that fact too.

Now we have come full circle and it is still bothering me about whether you should "just lay down" or "lie down" on the couch. I better go look up the grammar or it will bother me all night.

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Simon Says, "Hello sexy lady!"

Blue is my favorite color especially when paired up with white...with one exception. Yes, there is a time that I simply DREAD seeing those two colors together. During those occasions, I feel a jumble of emotions.

Anger.

Frustration.

Helplessness.

Panic.

Hopelessness.

Anger.

Did I mention that I get angry?



I sit in front of a computer each day and feel a sense of relief and relaxation akin to laying across the bed in the sunshine and drifting into an unexpected slumber. This wonderful daily experience is filled with the soft tapping sounds of the keyboard, the announcement of email, the beeps from Twitter and the blips of Facebook. These sounds help me let go of the day and gives my mind a place to release the billions of thoughts and emotions that crowd the space between my ears.

However...



When the the computer monitor turns a bright blue and "dumping physical memory" in bold white letters appear, I freak out.

No, seriously, I FREAK OUT.

Mazes of motherboards, welding, diddlybobs and coowhatziz are beyond me. They totally blur my mind. I simply want to TYPE, not play with hardware and software.

I also feel like my best friend is failing me.

In fact, it is true. Albert, my computer who is named after Albert Einstein, is my BFF (best friend forever). He can't really call me or go out to lunch with me, but he sings all my favorite songs to me. Albert always welcomes me with "Hello sexy" every time I sit down to talk to him. He is so good for my ego.



We have a very special relationship.

That's why when Albert (my computer) decided to dump all the physical memory and ostracize me from my internet passion, I was sad and angry. But the worst part was that I had and have no idea how to fix him.

See, Albert's doctors are expensive. They are more like specialized heart surgeons and they always try to tell me that I need a new BFF or at least a new heart for my new BFF. Those are always such horrible words.

Aaaaaggg.

I can't bear the thought of it which is exactly why my husband is having a go at fixing Albert tonight. I'm currently in the man cave and I've started using Simon, my husband's computer. I named him after "Simon says" because men usually think that just because they "say" it, the women are going to do it, whatever the it may be.

Men have so much to learn. Poor fellas.

Anyway, Simon is...hot if I say so myself.

Oooohhh la la.

I had no idea that Simon was so nifty. Not only is his keyboard AWESOME, but the speakers are totally ROCKING! Wow!



I'm not going to fret about the maze of hardware or depressing software words that pop on my screen because Albert is obviously going through male menopause or at a minimum, has come down with the flu. Hopefully, Albert will recover, but in the meantime, Simon and I are going to listen to lovely music while Bella sleeps peacefully at my feet.



Albert better allow himself to get fixed or Simon is going to become my new BFF especially since...

Simon now says, "Hello sexy lady!" when I open Windows.

I'm sure that will go over great when my husband logs on next time.

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