Art Attack Central

Fixing stuff, myself included…


Back on Track

There’s nothing like going cold turkey on your internet connection! If I ever questioned whether or not I was an internet junky, there’s no question anymore. I’d probably make a good candidate for the hard wiring humans to computers project. Part of my connection problem was due to my fooling around with apache http software (see Mental Prosthesis 1/26/2002). I uninstalled it this morning, and finally my previously unstable connection is now firmly rooted in cement boots. I can now stomp around in the way I’ve become accustomed to, which is having at least two browsers open with multiple windows of each, a couple of notepad files going, an image manager/viewer, and my ftp program running.

What’s else is going on?

“No rest for the weary.” It seems everything breaks at once. The bolt lock on my front door decided yesterday that it would no longer drop the bolt. So today means being a locksmith, or at least someone handy with a screw driver, and twenty twenty vision. I changed the lock myself about five years ago, but like everything else you don’t do on a regular basis you forget the procedure, and this operation does not come with dialogue boxes. The instructions that come with the lock will be the size of something Stuart Little could read with a magnifying glass. Much cussing will be required to understand what they mean even after deciphering the tiny print. Perhaps I should try reading the instructions while in the car as that’s where I do my best cussing.

Are you one of those people with road rage?

Not really, but I do metamorphose from type B to type A as soon as I turn the ignition switch. This is not pretty; there is no butterfly in this story. If you’re driving in front of me, do not drive as SUV, truck or a van, because I need to see five cars ahead of me so I can plan accordingly, because (a) my car is small and I can’t see over you, and (b) I don’t trust you to see what’s up ahead. When you take into account the number of SUVs, trucks and vans on the road, you get the picture: me tensely gripping the wheel, brow fiercely knitted, and words no mother wants to hear.

“The basis of optimism is sheer terror.”

– -Oscar Wilde

Link

“Designated driver, on the information highway.”