I, for one, prefer maps. I like reviewing the map and writing my directions out by hand. I like to have all exits, turns and distances clocked out and written down for reference. I like to see the big picture.

I love my tech gadgets, but I’ve typically thought of GPS as being too annoying and quite worrisome because well, computers can mess with you sometimes, and I don’t like being messed with while I’m driving – especially in another country.

And I was right.

For our trip to Indiana, my dad offer to lend us his GPS and I agreed thinking that we would use it just as a back-up to the maps.

As a GPS newbie I was unfamiliar with the fact that YOU NEVER USE A GPS IN CONJUNCTION WITH MAPS. Not EVER.

Nor did I know that the stupid wench would repeat herself a billion times.

In 600 meters turn Left onto I69.

Turn left onto I69.

Turn left onto I69.

And! if you decided NOT to listen to the GPS.

Re-calculating….

Re-calculating….

Through Michigan the wench inside the GPS, who we affectionately named “Gretchen” was really pissed at us because we tried to use our maps in conjunction with her and she was having none of that.

You could hear the tone in her voice getting shrill and aggravated with each Re-calculating… as well progressed.

At one point I was sure if she had arms I would be bitched slapped.

The best part? Gretchen telling us to pull an illegal U-turn in the middle of a four lane road. I shit you not.

In 200 meters make a U-turn.

Make a U-turn.

Re-calculating…..

Please follow the highlighted route…

Luckily for the on-coming traffic I used my super human intuition and did NOT do as she said (unlike this dolt), which surely just pissed Gretchen off more.

I was mad at Gretchen.

There was clearly some trust issues between us, but you can’t blame me. I was a little put off by being encourage to commit traffic violations in a foreign country. How would I explain that to a State Trooper?

Sorry officer! My GPS told me to!

Riiight.

But eventually Getchen worked her way into my heart when she brought us full circle back to Target when I restarted her after our stop. She knew we weren’t ready to leave.

I think I hit something when I started the trip back up and Gretchen ended up bringing up full circle around the mall and back to Target. I couldn’t help but laugh even though I was still pissed off at her for her shitty illegal u-turn advice.

But then, in an attempt at redemption, Gretchen detoured me around construction in Indianapolis and got us back to Casey’s house about 10 minutes faster than Casey, which was pretty damn nice of her.

Thanks Gretch!

Now, somewhat in our good books, we decided to forgo the maps all together on the way home leaving ourselves to Gretchen’s devices. She utterly FAILED at getting us to a Chick-Fil-A (pronounced Chick-Flah*) where we were taken to another remote location under construction and instructed to pull another u-turn. Dammit Gretch, you’re really pissing me off. Now you mess with Chick-Flah? You’re a bitch Gretch. A real bitch.

Forgetting Chick-Flah we got back on the Interstate where we were instructed to pull OFF the Interstate and take some back country through Ohio. Again, I was angry that I let Gretchen mess with me.

If the GPS were smart it would know not to mess with a Canadian when it comes to American treats like Target and Chick-Flah.

I was sure this was payback for not listening to her instructions previously, and as we passed house after house, trailer park after trailer park, I knew we were being taken for a ride. Literally. How could a two lane road in Ohio back country with a speed limit of 40 miles be FASTER than the Interstate?

About 45 minutes into our trip through the bowels of Ohio, Hudson shit his pants. We were scared shitless HA! a little worried about stopping anywhere because the broken down abandoned truck-stops and dilapidated houses just screamed cheesy horror movie, where at one point I was convinced we were going to be part of the third installment of Jeepers Creepers. Had it been night time I think I would have peed my pants, because there is truly NOTHING scarier than being in a strange weirdo place when the sun goes down. THAT is when all the creeps come out to play. Unless we were in Jeepers Creepers of course, because that creepy truck driver is all kindsa crazy day or night.

After about 1 million miles of back country (Nice to meet you Ohio!) and a very quick stop to change a diaper (Hudson’s not mine)  we came upon some semblance of humanity as Gretchen decided to take us back to the Interstate, finally.

I’m sure she was thinking: Ha! I fucked your shit up didn’t I? Serves you right. From now on you will heed my direction you stupid Canadian bitches.

But! It was then we realized Gretch was taking us back to MY house and forgetting an all too important drop-off in Strath-Vegas which required a completely different border crossing into Canada.

NIIICE.

At this point I will mention that before we left I was reminded that, by all accounts, I was to avoid Detroit.

Yes, true Ontario snobbery. Detroit is like the sister city to Hamilton or Windsor which “we” have lovingly coined at the armpit (or crotch) of Ontario.

Not only did we drive through Detroit, but I think I saw every abandoned factory and smashed out, tagged building there is in that city. The stereotypical OMG-WTF-am-I-doing-here? Detroit. The only thing missing was Eminem serenading us.

Eventually we made it home without incident. Gretch was packed away to be returned to her rightful owner, and though I never plan on buying one, I now have a soft spot for that self-righteous, cynical bitch Gretchen.

* Yes, I now know that it’s pronounced Chick-Fil-A (just as it’s spelt), you can blame my Canadian accent for the confusion. And! Chick-Flah is more fun. Deal with it.

Maybe another day. Because for now I am frustrated and lost my mojo.

I had a post, it was going well.. the browser froze and it’s all gone.

In this day and age of Teh Internets you’d think “they”‘d be able to do something about fuckin’ browsers freezing. “They” can send a man to the moon, even a damn robot to Mars,  but “they” can’t make a stupid computer browser work?

I’m at a loss people.

Toilet paper.

{ image }

Are you a toilet paper waster? Do you roll it around your hand and use half the roll, or do you sparingly use a couple sheets?

Let’s discuss.

I’ve always been very protective and careful with my life support electronic items. My very first real job at fifteen, I saved every penny until I was able to buy myself a stereo. Not just a little ghetto blaster, this one had speakers that were NOT attached. They could be placed at different locations around the room. A real honest to God stereo.

(I still have it. Twelve years later, it’s still kickin’.)

(Read: I’m a pack rat and can’t bare the thought of getting rid of it; it was my very first big ticket item I bought with my own money.)

I cherished that thing. I would dust it regularly, not let anyone turn it too loud to protect the vibrancy of its speakers. Speakers that could emit such pulse pounding beats I was able to escape the teenage angst of my daily life while Eddie Vedder’s soothing sweet voice reverberated through my ear drums.

Mmmm… Eddie Vedder….

Like Eddie circa 1993-ish

No so much now-ish Eddie Vedder…

Where was I? Right. Electronics.

So I used to take care of my shit. I used to baby it, clean it, dust it… I would never let anything harm something of value. Then a switch went off; I got laz(ier) and careless.

I had children.

Once I spit those precious little boys from my va-jay-jay things changed.

Know how I know?

Because each and every single time I try to download my digitial pictures, I can NEVER find my card reader. I think the last time I used it, I tell myself that it needs a new! location that’s easier to find so that next time – I know right where it is.

I screw myself each and every time.

Worse? I KNOW THAT I’M DOING IT!

I laugh at myself every time I go hunting for it again. You friggin’ moron… what spot did you think was better this time?

See? Stupid.

My iTouch is currently rattling around in my duffle bag purse without the case. The case is there with it, but not protecting it as it was intended for. No, no.. that would make SENSE.

And my shiny new laptop I scrimped and saved for over the summer? Five months. I’ve had it FIVE months. Ya. You don’t even want to know.

I left it on the floor as I was distracted by children / dinner / husband / television / bright lights – whatever. Then proceeded to forget about it.

The next morning I went to check emails and was greeted with this:

I don’t know if it was a children or a dog, but regardless it’s destroyed.

Shattered. Along with my heart.

P.S. I got over her rather quickly and charged a new one.

P.P.S. Ya. Husband has no job – STILL! – and I’m out charging a new friggin’ computer.

P.P.S.S. Am Teh Awesome.

P.P.P.S.S. But the new one is shiny and purty, so it’s all good.

:::

Congratulations to Alorinna and Thodora for winning the Starbucks Coffee Giveaway! (I know, I know… FINALLY, right?) Let me know if you already have a card and if you’d like me to update it or I’ll send you one!

Temporarily Me is hosted with DreamHost and has been since I moved to Wordpress in 2007. You may have noticed that my blog is perpetually slow. Yes. Shocking. I know. Commenting is quite often a nightmare, and so you’re aware: so is writing a damn post.

I’ve dealt with their support staff on many occassions trying to devise a resolution that will last for more than 24 hours – which still has yet to be done. That’s the joy of shared servers my friends. I find myself in the mix of some high volume sites which are sucking all the juice and leaving virtually nothing for my wee blog.

During one of the many excrutiatingly slow periods, I requested a move to a different server. Which was met with immediate service and friendly, informative help – I will say that their staff is very pleasant to deal with – but I think I was moved to an even SLOWER machine which has resulted in even more slow periods and now the recent commenting fiasco. You know the one – where everyone and their dog was met with a big fat FAIL!? (I wish I could have my very own FAIL WHALE each time a reader was met with the This fuckin’ web host is eating my brains page.

Why haven’t I jumped ship you’re wondering? Well, I have a contract until February of ‘09 and at that time, I will consider it. Unless someone from DreamHost spots this post and in an effort to keep me aboard they offer me a private server.

(Hey, it could happen.)

Don’t get me wrong, DreamHost has been an excellent service and have great staff. They are very inexpensive and I can host all my sites through one package, which isn’t the norm (so I’ve read). But with the inexpensive fees they also have a large customer base and everyone is cramped on to servers like passengers on a Chinese subway. Getting fast service is really a hit and miss based on which server you’re on.

(Think of my little blog like a band geek getting run down by an entire football team. I know, it’s sad, right. Poor band geek.)

(I mean no disrespect to band geeks because HOLY SHIT! I can barely chew gum and walk let alone read sheet music, play and walk – sometimes dance.)

And the whole point of this fuckin‘ boring post?

It’s not my designs that are screwing up everything! *phew* I was getting a complex.

And!

Look at me! I have a new design!

It’s got less images to load which will *hopefully* help my pages load a little faster as they fight their way through the masses to get to you.

All for you guys.

Aren’t I the sweetest thing EVAH!?

I’m in an all ’round shitty mood today. Horrible, horrible mood. I believe I even described myself as a hateful bitch on twitter earlier. (click for a larger view)

Nights have been fuckin’ awful around here lately. Hudson will not sleep unless he’s touching me. Some part of him has to be touching some part of me at. all. times.

Yes, so cute. Awwww… but! As soon as I move he begins to fuss… then WAIL. It’s getting very tired very fast. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in weeks. I am a zombie throughout the day and now today? FUCKIN’ BITTER.

The whining, the fussing, the WHINING is enough to make me suicidal, and to top it off Mike whines and bitches that he’s not getting any sleep either. Well, whoopdi-fuckin’-doo. Welcome to my world. Yes, yes you have to work in the morning my love; I too have stuff to do – like take care of little children and KEEP THEM ALIVE!

Last night he even asked me to stay downstairs a little longer so that he could get to sleep before I brought The Hot Fussâ„¢ upstairs. Am I the only person that thinks that makes absolutely no fuckin’ sense whatsoever? Wait until your sleep to bring The Hot Fussâ„¢ upstairs? Idiot. But I did has he asked and it all went to hell in a handbasket as I tried to put the damn baby down so I could take a piss. Hudson fussed, Mike bitched and I fuckin’ lost it.

What the fuck did you think was going to happen? HONESTLY?! You ask me to WAIT until you’re ASLEEP to bring him upstairs? It’s your own fuckin’ fault you fuckin’ moron.

(A tad harsh, maybe. But? Serioulsy?)

So he left to sleep on the couch.

Later fucker.

I got to share the bed with The Hot Fussâ„¢ for the night while he squirmed, fussed, nursed, farted and slept. I, on the other hand, tried to stay perfectly still so not to roll on top of him and smother him with my giganiticness.

HOT MESS.

I have the pack n’ play wedged beside my bed but it’s not good enough for him because: OMG OMG, I can’t feel you – any part of you – TOUCHING me CONSTANTLY!

The thing is: this? This has been going on for over a month now and I mah brainz r fried! I can’t handle living in this foggy cloud of anger; being deliriously tired all the time. It’s aging me so fast: by next Friday I’m likely to be an extinct dinosaur. Bring on the fuckin’ ice age! Maybe then it’ll be fuckin’ QUIET!

Today I’m dragging the old spare bed back into the nursery and moving there with Hudson. Maybe this way we can both get a decent sleep, even for a couple hours. I’m just so frustrated because Carter wasn’t like this; at four months he was sleeping through the night already – I know, I know all babies are different but I no likey this different. This different fuckin’ BLOWS!

Oh and to top it all off? Get an email this morning from a co-worker telling me that they received a messege from my “temptingmama” account. Even though I specficially told gmail to send it from my other personal account it tacks on a fuckin’ messege saying that it was sent from temptingmama ON BEHALF OF … Someone please explain that to me?! WTH is THAT!? So mad. So so mad.

I am so close to just locking myself in the closet today.

I just want to run away! Run away!

Oh, and if you’re wondering how I had the opportunity to write this post?

* The Hot Fussâ„¢ coined by her, stolen by me.

“Sold!” I said and immediately I felt sweaty. My heart began to race and I instantly wondered if I could take it back.

I will be able to pay for this.

I will not be in trouble from Mike; he didn’t put up a fight when we talked about it before.

I’ve wanted to do this for ages. I just have to bite the bullet and actually do it.

Where the hell is Heather when I need her? I wanna enjoy this. I should enjoy this.

I deserve it.

I deserve it.

I deserve it, don’t I?

All thoughts running through my head at the time, yet still didn’t make me feel any better.

Sweaty. Oh. So Sweaty.

I hate making big purchases. I clam up, get sweaty (did I mention sweaty?) and all flustered. I second, triple and fourth (?) guess the purchase over and over while trying to justify it repeatedly. I think of all the things that this money could have bought. What this money should have bought. Eventually I just have to stop listening to myself and pay more attention to my credit card that is begging to be removed from my wallet and have its stripe gently rubbed against the long slot of a card reader.

Saturday, I bite the bullet and just dove in and did it.

I splurged and bought myself a new laptop. (added: It’s an HP, guess I should have mentioned that.)

A bright new shiny laptop. I have yet to have a moment to show it some love, but I intend to. Boy, do I ever intend to.

I wanna rub up against it, whisper sweet nothings into its speakers, gaze into its webcam and profess my love to its processor. I wanna fondle the keys and stroke the touch pad while I dream of the eternal love we will show each other.

Dear brand new laptop; you complete me.

Whilst shopping for my newly beloved, I also bought an external hard drive. After my dear Karly recently lost her pictures of the past four years of her children’s lives I began to panic about all the images I had saved on my desktop that was 3 years old and could fail me at any time. Not to mention all the designs and programs I have on there: I’d be royally fucked (and not in a good way) if I lost all that.

So. Here I sit with my beloved, IN MY LIVING ROOM with my children.

I feel like a better parent now that I don’t have my back to them anymore!

Hallelujah for new laptops and better parenting!

:::

Please keep any comments pretaining to my parenting to yourself I am totally joking. Hudson doesn’t even watch television and Carter is playing outside alone – so he can’t even see the back of my head anyway.

And make sure you visit my post about changing the name of this site. Have your chance to weigh in – should the name change?

I finally got myself some computer time last night and I did it! I worked on a design for a special client and even had the chance to start the re-design (again!) for this site. Won’t be too drastic I don’t think, the format will stay the same, just different colours, etc. I need some colourful and uplifting for spring, that’s just around the corner. Even though I am on the computer all day long at work, it’s not the same as being at home and doing stuff that I find entertaining and invigorating. Designing makes me feel better. Makes me feel like I’m good at something, even if I am completely Mickey Mouse compared to others out there.

I’ve grown up around computers. My grandpa, dad and uncle are all IT and programmer people. My dad gave me my first computer at 13 years old. My very own. I remember Christmas morning, waking up and staring at the HUGE package under the tree trying to guess what it could be.

I was shocked and elated to open it up and find an IBM 386 – used but it was glorious. I was in love. I remember the blue screen, the ugly font and horrible colour. The thing never had internet, nor was it compatible for anything. I could type a report and print it on a PC at school and play choppy boxy games.

I couldn’t have been happier.

I think just about everything I’ve learned about computers, programs, designs, etc. I’ve self taught. It’s been hit and miss and lots of trial and error, but it’s just apart of me. It’s in my blood.

My husband on the other hand?

He’s the only person I’ve ever met that has the ability to wipe out an entire hard drive with one key stroke. Computers and Mike have a relationship comparable to oil and water. Scratch that, not computers and Mike – electronics and Mike.

His macho attitude makes it impossible for him to accept that something may just be OPERATOR ERROR. He insists every. single. time. that the electronic is the culprit and it’s simply just a piece of crap.
Exhibit No. 1: The Surround Sound

Two Christmases ago, I bought him a new surround system. Save you the details, he assumes the system is cursed because it’s finicky about what bootlegged movies it will play.

Exhibit No. 2: The desktop computer – Just over 2 years old 

The computer and the internet are out to get him. He insists that everything should be lightning speed and and lag time means “This computer is fuckin’ garbage. We need a new one.”

Exhibit No. 3: My iPod

After insisting and insisting, I finally gave in a let Mike take my iPod out-of-town with him since he’s been driving about two hours one way. I was cool with it and didn’t think anything of it. At the time.

My beloved (old and perfectly fine) iPod came back Wednesday night. I was so happy to have it back and not have to listen to the horrible radio anymore. I docked it in the transistor in my car as I contemplated what to listen to first.

Then nothing.

I searched and searched and there was nothing there!

I mean nothing.

My iPod was wiped clean of any and all media.  (Thankfully he hasn’t gotten anywhere near my iTunes or I’d really be pissed since that’s where all the songs are saved.)

Mike strikes again, and I can’t help but laugh no matter how frustrating and completely annoying it is that he gets so mad that I’ve even thought that he could have done something wrong.

He’s denied any wrong doing at all; he turned it on and pressed play and everything just *poof* disappeared.

“I didn’t do anything!” he whined like a kid trying to lie his way out of trouble, “It just disappeared! I didn’t do it, it’s the iPod. It’s a piece of shit.” as he walks away muttering to himself that I should stop wasting money on all this crap that just keep breaking and I have no idea what I’m doing when I buy this shit.

[I have a feeling I need to invest in an external hard drive for all my design work before it just magically disappears when the craptacular computer just crashes. ]

Got anyone in your family who is completely incapable when it comes to electronics? What’s the worst thing they’ve done and refuse to accept that it may be them, not the electronic?

Once again, I can’t thank you enough. Your kind words over the past week (or so) have been really heartwarming. I never thought that blogging would bring such wonderful people into my life. I am truly grateful for each and every one of you.

The only thing that’s really keeping me from writing at the moment is work and my damn desktop. I’m so busy at work lately, and blogging at home has become virtually impossible (even though I’m trying right now while sitting on a HUGE pillow) since: a) Mike CONSTANTLY hogs the computer playing World of Warcraft and b) Dude, I got a fuckin’ wood chair to sit on. Normally it’s not so bad, but lately, I just can’t handle it and find myself in pain even just looking at the damn chair.

I am really missing writing regularly. Though it’s nothing articulate or educational, it clears my mind and helps me relax a little. I can bitch and moan whine share my feelings that I would otherwise keep bottled up and I feel better. That’s what counts.

So. I really need a laptop (yes, still griping about that one) or a better chair.

I think I have to get the laptop, no?

Things are better around home lately. Mike’s mood swings and all around shitty behaviour have curbed a bit lot, making him far more tolerable. Carter’s not being a shit and I just seem to be copping a little better at the moment, though I sleep a lot and and really uncomfortable already. I don’t know how I’m going to survive the next 3 months if I’m THIS uncomfortable already. Seriously, there’s going to be A. Lot. of bitching around here.

Belly is BIG. Had my 20 week ultrasound a month late. Found out the sex, and no. I’m not sharing.

I have ultrasound images to share too, but they have to wait. I’m too damn lazy to go out to the car in this shitty storm for them. You can wait another day or two – whenever I decide to post again.

Until then lovelies. Don’t forget about me!

God willing, I may actually have some ambition time to post more often.