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Friday, February 3, 2006

Maybe you donít know what youíve got till itís gone, but I knew it would be at least inconvenient to be without Internet access for however long this goes on. I knew I wouldnít be receiving email or sending any, or updating any web sites. And I knew I wouldnít be able to check news and sports sites every hour to see what was happening in the world. That almost convinced me to watch some network news, but not quite.

What I didnít think of until it started happening was the rest of it. I wasnít thinking about updating my Netflix queue until I thought of a movie I wanted to add to it. And when I was watching a movie tonight and wanted to look up one of the actors in the cast, there was no IMDb just a click away. I have so come to depend on IMDb.

This morning when I was getting ready to go out on my errands, I couldnít check the temperature in my system tray. I had to open the door and poke my head out to see if it was hot or cold. Not surprisingly, it wasnít hot. But it would have been nice to know how heavy a jacket I needed without exposing my flesh to goose bumps.

Hereís something else I hadnít considered. Iím watching Rachael Ray and sheís making this black bean and corn salad that looks like (a) something I could do, and (2) something I would eat. So I race to the computer and— nothing. I canít log onto the Food Network site to download the recipe. Not until Tuesday, anyway. (Not that I donít have enough leftover stoup from last night, but still. I was trying to think ahead.)

2 February 2006

Blackberry leaf.

Worst of all, I didnít know how my friends in far places were doing. And I didnít have a way to let them know what was going on with me. If there were problems with the Dreamhost server that I didnít know about and couldnít deal with, then the message I asked Mom to leave in the Comments under my last entry werenít going to be read. I didnít realize how cut off I would feel. I knew Iíd feel that way, but I didnít anticipate the intensity of the feeling. Itís like being in solitary confinement.

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As for the fax line not working, who cares? The Boss managed to get faxes through to me by phoning ahead so I could switch lines. Once this morning I answered the phone while the line was connected to the fax. Big mistake! It was hard to have a conversation while the fax tone was squealing in my ear, searching for the incoming fax that didnít exist. You can bet I didnít do that again.

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Because of events described here, my friend Sunshyn needs a little help. If you are moved and able help, click the donation button.


For other journal recommendations, check out the links page.

One year ago: Interval
"Everything gets blurry, and not just because I need new glasses (although that doesnít help matters any)."

Two years ago: Flyover
"At first I couldn't get enough of them, and then I was all 'Ho hum, gobble gobble.'"

Three years ago: Side Two
"It's hard to live the communal life if you're a committed loner."

Four years ago: Too Much?
"Who says you can't learn lessons from sports? Why do art and literature have an exclusive on all life's great messages?"

Five years ago: Down for the Count
"There was a lot of bowing and hand shaking, all quite civilized."

Six years ago: Trash Collector
"I sometimes feel as if I'm entombed in a warehouse of my own worthless memorabilia, like a poor man's pharaoh."

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