Sweet, Sweet Change of Plans

Okay everyone, remember how I told you to bitchslap your computers? We’re changing course – start knocking on every variety of wood you can find (short of injuring male loved ones for the sake of double entendre). Feel free to use pressed fiberboard, paneling, and exes.

The internet…waaaaaaaaiiiit forrrrrrr iiiiiiit…is back!

Jack

I have a new modem. It’s spiffy and shiney and new. And somehow, through a miraculous alignment of the cosmos (angry fist shake) I managed to get it up and running. It’s supposed to take ten minutes. It took me two hours, and I didn’t even have any problems. It was just very…involved. Vista shines here, with the constant approving of every goddamned step, and having to restart every time some new aspect gets installed (such as the piles of anti-virus – oh internet, why are you so dangerous?). Download this executable file, launch said executable file, install feature, loading, loading, loading. It was just a meticulous, pissy little process that had me sitting on the edge of my seat all night.

But finally, finally, I have the internet.

Wireless internet!!!!

Me! Technologically stunted and maimed, I somehow figured out how to appease the digital deities and actually got my wireless working. I’m not covered in cables! I can sweep my floor without meticulously unplugging, draping, carefully arranging (or just ignoring it and nibbling my lip over the bad-housekeeper guilt). I don’t trip over things at 2am when that last bottle of juice announces itself as a poorly timed idea!

It.

Is.

Fan.

Tastic.

Now let’s not get carried away. This month, overall, is still sucking the big one. Work is a pain in the ass, and every douchebag and their ugly sister seem out to get me. They’re filming underbudgeted movies on my block and cluttering up the traffic. Starbucks has discontinued the only vegetarian breakfast sandwhich. Josh is hard at work both on the job and getting some renovations done around his brothers house for my visit, so between that and the rest of life we’re often pressed for time. I’ve promised May that I won’t use Limewire, and so I’m dying without my instant fixes and guilty pleasures. I still don’t have tiles on half the floor, and my futon is becoming lumpier by the day. Also, neither tax nor bonus season were as kind to me as I’ve grown accustomed. Boourns.

But this, I will celebrate. This one teeny, tiny technological victory, as brief as I realize it could be, I will take it and run with it.

thumbs_up

Thumbs up internet, I’m back in your grill. Now let’s finish suckerpunching the rest of this shitty month and get on with my damn vacation, alright?

Alright.

Advertisements

Continuing Technological Interruptions, or: Why I Need A Flamethrower

I tell you, it’s a damn good thing I’ve got internet at the office, and at least three fairly decent chunks of time during the average work day in which to surf (somewhat) freely. If it weren’t for relieving my receptionist for her breaks, you might never see me ’round these parts.

Yes, it’s true. My internet at home has once again decided to laugh with maniacal glee at my frantic efforts to stay connected to the world more than twenty feet away. I woke up Saturday morning and my computer was dead. Just….dead. No blue screen of death, just dead. It looked more like a pillowcase – horizontal, somewhat ragged looking stripes. I tried to restart it – fail. I tried to do all those little safe-startup options that you’re offered when you haven’t shut your laptop properly – fail. Fail, fail, fail.

I didn't...but almost

Then I thought, well, fuck it. Any files I *really* care about are floating on the internet anyways. I know better than to trust this machine with anything long term. I’ll go grab the magic disc and just wipe this thing back to its basic operating system. Oh no, I’ll have to re-install msn, firefox, and iTunes and lose all my hilarious bookmarks. Big deal. As long as I can get the internet back, I’m happy. What can I say? I’m a product of my generation, and no internet means no Josh – even our phones are web based.

Off I went then, to grab the original packaging for the computer, placed neatly on a shelf in the spare room.

The backup disc? No more than a set of instructions on how to create your own backup disc. A futile, futile piece of paper.

Well fuck. Good thing I’ve got a nerdy friend on speed-text. I gave May the shake-down on the latest fuckuppery, to which she said “Bring it on over!” So over I went, as is the habit on Saturday afternoons anyways. I plunked the laptop down, and proceeded to ignore it for most of the night. Eventually the sake bombs were busted out and I started feeling much better. Some time after that, I remembered the useless hunk of computery plastic wedged into my purse – complete with non-laptop-sized keyboard! Remember that story? About dumping a whole glass of water on it and frying all but three letters to kingdom come? Yeah! That was fun! Anyways, long story short another geeky friend who happened to be in attendance got it back to factory setting fairly quickly. Thanks nerdy friends! Problem solved!

Not so much. Sunday morning I woke up to find that although my computer worked fine, in all it’s zero-actual-programs glory, the internet was down.

What. The. Fuck. Are you serious???

I understand this on a whole 'nother level now...

Apparently, yes. I called Bell, bitched my schpiel, and two hours later we were able to determine that my modem was malfunctioning, not picking up my IP address properly. Or some other bullshit. They could have told me it was dying of syphilis and it wouldn’t have mattered. They would still have to send me a new one, days away. In the meantime they MacGyvered a basic connection, the mechanics of which I don’t even understand. But no video phone, and too weak to download msn. Great. That’s about as helpful as an internet connection in a government office where you’re allowed to search all of three excitingly informative pages and play solitaire when the boss is in the can.

I texted May. Forget tech support, clearly I’m e-doomed. Can I borrow a flamethrower, chainsaw, sledgehammer or some other kind of destructive implement? She texted back that Talea was on her way over for gardening, and didn’t that sound like much more fun??? Yes. Yes, it very very very did.  So over I went to take my wrath out on weeds, semi-useful computer in tow for another joyous adventure with oversized luggage on the bus. May’s prognosis was: “You know, I used to think it was user error. Because even the smartest person can make a mistake on their computer. It happens. But now I think the internet hates you. Clearly, it must. Because this is just ridiculous, you poor thing!”

It does! It must! Call me crazy, but I’m almost certain that every single device in my apartment is fully awake, aware of my name, my neuroses, and the worst days to mess with me. I’m going to start wearing a tinfoil hat!

Maybe not...

Ahem. So yes, with much help from technologically non-impaired, non-cursed friends, I was able to once again plug myself back into the all important internet. And the internet, by the way, owes me a day of my life back.

The new modem should be arriving soon, beginning what I’m sure is yet another long battle against the machine. Could you all do me a favour and slap your computers around a little tonight? I’m hoping it’ll send a message to the internet about what happens when you push my buttons a little too long. And if it doesn’t go well and I end up making the news in some horrible fashion, well…at least now you can say you know my side of the tale.

Stay tuned.

How I Got Here

I’m going to break the general rules of internet existence and tell you that my name is Emerald. My boyfriends name is Josh. I’m not too worried about him in regards to internet stalkers, that’s a pretty common name. I have another blog that I won’t be linking you to anytime soon, and for a very good reason. I’ve started this blog to talk about things that I don’t want people in the real world to know about just yet. Time for a little recreation of the self, if you will.

This blog is about Josh and I, but not to worry: I’m not a retarded fifteen year old doodling hearts on her plastic binder, gazing whimsically at an attractive head of hair some three seats ahead. Instead of oozing and gushing copious amounts of affection and biased praise, I plan to use this outlet as a way of documenting my progress as I slog through a shitfuckton of both momentous occasions and difficulties in regards to our relationship. Yes, I said shitfuckton. If you have a problem with a girl who curses like a sailor, I suggest you keep ridin’ partner, there’s sure to be a blog for you somewhere out there.

But wait, difficulties? Oh no! What can this mean? Are we fighting? At a crossroads? Have I come here to vent about his jackassery? Am I unsure of the sincerity of blah blah blah blah blah? No.

This all brings us to the title of this blog, 800 miles. That’s approximately how far apart we live.

Since I can’t imagine any of you potential readers have stumbled upon our story elsewhere, let me fill you in. Josh and I met right here on WordPress, in a fantabulous twist of the fates. Last October, he commented on a post of mine, and I followed suit on his. The rest is pretty much history involving upgrades to facebook and instant messaging. What started as an exploration of the differences between where we live and what we do turned into an ongoing conversation about who we are as people, how we relate to the rest of the world, and how we feel about life, love, and all the rest of that good stuff. We began to wonder what sort of joke was being played on us – evidently we were meant to be together if not for that pesky mileage issue. I’m not sure exactly when, but it became pretty clear after a while that we were dating anyways. With the miraculous advantage of live chatting, webcams and heartfelt letters, a solid relationship formed without the need to have met face to face. This was an interesting predicament for a girl quite used to nookie whenever she feels like it, and as it turns out it was a refreshing change for the better. At any rate, on March 10th, Josh wrote an in-depth romantic letter (via facebook obviously, we are in our twenties after all) explaining his true feelings for me. His sister-in-law accidentally closed the window, and so the letter was never sent. Forgoing patience, he decided against rewriting it and simply blurted out via msn: I’m in love with you.

Awwww

Awwww

Yeah, yeah, I know. Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. Good thing I’m in love with him too. And so the facebook status was changed to “in a relationship”, a momentous occasion for anyone sucked in by the whole genre, and I began to make plans to visit him. For a number of reasons I’ll get to in a second, these travel plans were held off for a while, leading only to a stronger relationship in the meantime. But eventually, all worked out and off I went. Via Greyhound I did travel, a 24 hour trip filled with…well, all the fantabulous fuckuppery one can expect from spending a day on a bus filled with the public. I made it there in one piece and finally got to see my wonderful boyfriend face to face and spend a week with his amazing family and friends, and obviously his amazing self as well.

I am smitten. There was no awkwardness, a little bit of nervousness, but almost immediately a very smooth transition into face-to-face togetherness, a falling into routine that made it difficult to believe we’d ever been apart, and even more difficult getting back on the bus the next weekend. We’d been talking long term plans from the beginning – our agreement on these most important topics being one of the ways we fell in love in the first place – but now we’re heading in that direction for sure.

But there are a few things in our way.

Firstly is the 800 miles between us. Secondly is the pesky US-Canadian border between us. Yeeeeaaah, you didn’t see that coming, did you? So one of us has to deal with immigration bullshit if we’re to be together, and neither of us are down with running down the aisle simply for a green card. I’m the Canuck, by the way, Josh is from the heart of Dixie Land and damn proud of it. We’ve already decided that Canada has more advantages in the way of schooling and healthcare and economics, but for the immediate future, it’s looking like it’ll be easier for me to move down there for a bit. He’s got a criminal record, you see.

Oh, what’s this! A convicted felon? I’m head over heels for some rebel troublemaker who surely can’t be serious about our future together? From the south no less? Oh, the stereotypes! I can hear the judgement from this side of the computer screen. Well, no. Been there, done that. Josh spent a few years rebelling against his Flanders-esque upbringing (we are talking about the Deep South, do recall) and was finally bitchslapped by the long arm of the law. At this point he realized that if he didn’t calm down some, he was going nowhere fast. And so he smartened up, and from what his friends and family have told me, is barely recognizeable from the what-was seven years ago. As for me, I don’t even know that person. But this is the US judicial system and the red tape drags on and on and on. He still has court dates looming from well before I met him, and every time a date comes up, I’m stuck 800 miles away not knowing if he’s going to be coming back that afternoon with yet another continuation, or if he’s going to be taken away for anywhere from a few weeks to a few years.

What’s a girl to do? Fuck that, that’s what. I’m not sitting by waiting for my man to be taken away and then given back before I figure out how to get our lives together. If Josh is stuck where he is then I’ll have to pack up my shit and move down there. I’ve moved on my own plenty of times, dragged myself out of impoverisHed debt many a time, and I can do it again. Obviously, it’s just going to be more complicated.

So that’s where I am – caught up in a whirlwind of solid love but complicated circumstances. And because I’m sure it’s going to be a story worth retelling later, I thought it wise to document it along the way. Hope you’ll follow along for the ride, it’s sure to be exciting.

Oh, by the way, Josh is going to be here too. We’ve decided on a dual blog, so you’ll be able to hear his side of all this too. Fun times!