Well, fuck you very much to the bastards at Verizon, all that crap finally took it's toll on my beloved dinosaur of a computer, and now the poor thing will not even load her desktop. I am currently typing this from my Dad's computer, which he generously brought with him for the Christmas weekend so I could check my email and all that.
I seriously wish I could sue Verizon. It was their software that caused the demise of my machine (with a ton of digital photos which I stupidly didn't save to disk). When I packed up the modem package to send back to them, after it took 2 fucking hours to get my service disconnected, I wrote on the box "Shove this up your server" in a red sharpie. The girl at UPS certainly didn't find it as amusing as I did.
Thank god with the holidays comes the gift of alcohol from co-workers of Rick who have no idea what to really get him. Don't you love the fact that a generic co-worker gift always seems to consist of liquor? I figure if I pace myself I could probably stay schnockered well into the new years.
There's more going on in the house of the Hoodlum, of course, but I don't care to go into it at the present time. It's not in the spirit of the holidays. Suffice to say that our move and the ensuing holiday season has been one hell of a rollercoaster here, with mainly more downs than ups. But we're getting better, and getting through it. Ho Ho Ho, everyone, hope your holiday season is going well, here's to a white christmas, and I'll see ya'll in the new year.
If anyone wants to reach me, you can email me through my profile. I am running to Kinko's to pay those jerkoffs 40 cents a minute once a week to check my email. I'm sorry, for $24 an hour, those assholes should include a lapdance with their net service. Okay, bye guys!
Friday, December 24, 2004
Thursday, December 02, 2004
Officially moved!
Well, I am back in the cyber saddle, after much hassle. The bastards at Verizon telephone and internet now top my shitlist of crappy companies I am forced to deal with (my trash company being a clsoe second, but we'll get to that later). *sigh* Why can't getting my little dinosaur of a computer onto the world wide web be an easy process? I was actually longing to deal with Qwest, which to any of you still dealing with them you should know is a pretty hellacious statement to make.
Scene one: I am at the old apartment, three weeks before our big move. Since Qwest took a total of two weeks to get my package to me and get set up (with surprisingly few complications), I figured the same would be true for my new phone company. Apparently, I was smoking crack that day. The oh-so-nice lady on the line told me it takes from three to four weeks to get there's set up, so I'd have to get my phone service running a week before moving day. Fine, so I'll pay for a phone line I don't use for one week. Whatever. I would get my package mailed to me at the new address approximately the week of the move, and have official srevice start date at the end of said week. Sounds like a plan...
Scene Two: New home! The curtains are hung, most boxes are unpacked, and I am hounding our postman like a beagle with a hypertension problem. UPS finally brings my itty bitty box o' joy, and I keep getting strange recorded messages from James Earl Jones saying my DSL service has already been activated. Mind you, I received like four of these freaky calls before I even got my package. Well, Rick and I wrangle a phone line into the den (there wasn't an outlet there to begin with). Then we unpack the schtuff, and get all plugged in. However...
Scene Three: Our low lit den, both of us pulling our hair out at the roots (which is quite an accomplishment for my balding hubby). The 'Easy to Install' disk of horror they sent with the modem keeps popping up all kinds of error messages, and has already installed God knows what on my fragile system. The Modem won't acknowledge through the USB port like our old one did, and it's refusing to see the network ethernet card I put on months ago (and tested positively). For some reason, It just keeps saying the drivers for this damn modem they sent us aren't anywhere to be found (and logically, they'd be on that stupid disk, right?). In frustration, Rick calls their tech support. After fifteen minutes of listening to a hold recording that tells us of teh convenience of online technical support (uh, if you can't get online, what purpose does that fucking serve?!) some Uber bitch proceeds to tell us that it's our computer. We must go buy some miraculous devices. Wait...I already have them INSTALLED! No...she snaps, you don't have the right stuff, and our drivers are always on our disks, your computer must not like the disk. Well,although my comp is tempermental, it's not that discriminating. Oh, and by the way, James Earl Jones was wrong, our service isn't even active until the 2nd of December. I delivered one of my delicious rants to Miss Computyrant on the phone, and then immediately call Comcast. So, for twice as much, they'll come out ina week and install it themselves.
hence, I now have internet service, and a headache, and a seriously bad taste in my mouth from the phone company I have no alternative but to use. That horrid little disk they sent me happily installed some nightmare spyware (I know it was them, because I didn't have any of this crap on my system before I used that damn disk). At least they aren't getting my $30 in shitty internet acces a month!
Other than that HELL, and an annoyance with our trash company, things have been okay. Oh, our home was uninhabbited for almost a year before we settled our butts in, and apparently the pipes became over-run with tree routes. God Bless Roto-rooter and their fast service! My landlord took care of everything.
The trash company didn't tell me there was a size limit on my trash can, and I bought the standard 50 gallon one (well, it was the same size as the recycling thingie they dropped off). Apparently, I was seriously wrong, as the trash guy chewed me out when he came to pick up. He felt bad when I explained they didn't tell me the rules, and suggested I ask for a can rental from the company. "We just got a whole shipment in, and it's only about a dollar a month"...hmmm...why wasn't I offered that in the first place? That would have saved me a headache (and the purchase of a now useless $30 piece of plastic). I called, but apparently the lady there was hording trash cans. She really didn't want to give me one! Why the hell not, I still don't know. Maybe they are planning for a can shortage of mass proportions...well, ya'll know I am a force to be reckoned with, so my rental can is being delivered next week. Ha!
Well, I better get off here, I have a lot of catching up to do. Stay tuned, readers, in the next few days Momma's putting back on her tree-hugging liberal suit. Our Commander in Jackass has already started fucking with the Northwest (take that for not voting for him, blue state!), and I am up in arms, you all should be too.
Scene one: I am at the old apartment, three weeks before our big move. Since Qwest took a total of two weeks to get my package to me and get set up (with surprisingly few complications), I figured the same would be true for my new phone company. Apparently, I was smoking crack that day. The oh-so-nice lady on the line told me it takes from three to four weeks to get there's set up, so I'd have to get my phone service running a week before moving day. Fine, so I'll pay for a phone line I don't use for one week. Whatever. I would get my package mailed to me at the new address approximately the week of the move, and have official srevice start date at the end of said week. Sounds like a plan...
Scene Two: New home! The curtains are hung, most boxes are unpacked, and I am hounding our postman like a beagle with a hypertension problem. UPS finally brings my itty bitty box o' joy, and I keep getting strange recorded messages from James Earl Jones saying my DSL service has already been activated. Mind you, I received like four of these freaky calls before I even got my package. Well, Rick and I wrangle a phone line into the den (there wasn't an outlet there to begin with). Then we unpack the schtuff, and get all plugged in. However...
Scene Three: Our low lit den, both of us pulling our hair out at the roots (which is quite an accomplishment for my balding hubby). The 'Easy to Install' disk of horror they sent with the modem keeps popping up all kinds of error messages, and has already installed God knows what on my fragile system. The Modem won't acknowledge through the USB port like our old one did, and it's refusing to see the network ethernet card I put on months ago (and tested positively). For some reason, It just keeps saying the drivers for this damn modem they sent us aren't anywhere to be found (and logically, they'd be on that stupid disk, right?). In frustration, Rick calls their tech support. After fifteen minutes of listening to a hold recording that tells us of teh convenience of online technical support (uh, if you can't get online, what purpose does that fucking serve?!) some Uber bitch proceeds to tell us that it's our computer. We must go buy some miraculous devices. Wait...I already have them INSTALLED! No...she snaps, you don't have the right stuff, and our drivers are always on our disks, your computer must not like the disk. Well,although my comp is tempermental, it's not that discriminating. Oh, and by the way, James Earl Jones was wrong, our service isn't even active until the 2nd of December. I delivered one of my delicious rants to Miss Computyrant on the phone, and then immediately call Comcast. So, for twice as much, they'll come out ina week and install it themselves.
hence, I now have internet service, and a headache, and a seriously bad taste in my mouth from the phone company I have no alternative but to use. That horrid little disk they sent me happily installed some nightmare spyware (I know it was them, because I didn't have any of this crap on my system before I used that damn disk). At least they aren't getting my $30 in shitty internet acces a month!
Other than that HELL, and an annoyance with our trash company, things have been okay. Oh, our home was uninhabbited for almost a year before we settled our butts in, and apparently the pipes became over-run with tree routes. God Bless Roto-rooter and their fast service! My landlord took care of everything.
The trash company didn't tell me there was a size limit on my trash can, and I bought the standard 50 gallon one (well, it was the same size as the recycling thingie they dropped off). Apparently, I was seriously wrong, as the trash guy chewed me out when he came to pick up. He felt bad when I explained they didn't tell me the rules, and suggested I ask for a can rental from the company. "We just got a whole shipment in, and it's only about a dollar a month"...hmmm...why wasn't I offered that in the first place? That would have saved me a headache (and the purchase of a now useless $30 piece of plastic). I called, but apparently the lady there was hording trash cans. She really didn't want to give me one! Why the hell not, I still don't know. Maybe they are planning for a can shortage of mass proportions...well, ya'll know I am a force to be reckoned with, so my rental can is being delivered next week. Ha!
Well, I better get off here, I have a lot of catching up to do. Stay tuned, readers, in the next few days Momma's putting back on her tree-hugging liberal suit. Our Commander in Jackass has already started fucking with the Northwest (take that for not voting for him, blue state!), and I am up in arms, you all should be too.
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