Sunday, February 09, 2014

Cheating on my lover

why is this so gay? you told me to write it!

I may have laughed a little too hard at that.

——

I suddenly have lost all hope in my favourite Mac repair shop.

Oh, wait. Let me rephrase that… the only place that repairs Macs and will touch something Apple deems “vintage”. Um, is seven years old really vintage? Four years out of AppleCare, yes, but vintage?

(BTW - I got curious to see what vintage actually means, and the British dictionary on my Mac (shut up), defines vintage as “denoting something from the past of high quality, especially something representing the best of its kind: a vintage Sherlock Holmes adventure.”) 

I may have laughed inappropriately hard at that as well.

Heh. I said “hard”.

Where was I?

Oh yeah, my sick vintage baby, is at a hospital where the doctors may not be particularly up to date on issues as simple to fix as a depressed power button.

No, not that kind of depressed. *rolls eyes*

I know how to fix it - the guy at the Genius Bar who wouldn’t/couldn’t fix it told me exactly what I needed to do. I need to remove all the guts from the casing so I can access the button and pop it back into place. I didn’t want to do that - it’s an awful lot of bits and tiny screws - and figured I’d pay someone to do that for me. Once I had a job.

The internet told me a different story, and that one turned out to be a lie. It actually made the button worse and now it’s so far down into the casing, it’s hitting the speaker.

So, I tell the Mac store people this, and they look at me like they’ve never heard of a power button that got used so much it fell into the casing. Really? On a seven year old laptop that’s used every day? A power button has never wiggled out of place? Maybe it just doesn’t happen in this area?

When I asked them about the USB 3.0 issue, I also got a blank eye stare. This is a well known issue. A very well known issue and google can prove it. 

Yet, they had no idea what I was talking about and then made it obvious that they thought I had no idea what I was talking about.

(And let’s not even get anywhere near the fact that the dude behind the counter talked to J as if I wasn’t there and as if he knew what was wrong with a computer he never touches.)

Today’s last ditch effort to fix it included digging out an old, self-powered, USB 1.0 hub and plugging the drive into that.

Yep. Using USB 1.0 to power a 3.0 drive. It’s working, though. I don’t know for how long, but it is. I suspect it may not be a problem with the Mac as much as it may be a problem with the drive itself. The Mac says it’s unreadable and if I say “ignore” instead of “eject”, I can see it in disk utility, but I can’t do anything with it. It’s under warranty under Seagate’s original warranty and then with the 2 year Staples plan I purchased. I just have to figure out where to store all my data before I do anything with the drive. (There’s a reason I bought something as irrationally big as 4TB…)

*sigh*

Have I even mentioned how much I hate our dependence on technology?

I mean, I love my iMac - I really do and I have two computers for a reason, but my MBP and I have been through so much that it feels like I’m cheating on my lover.

Seriously.

I’m not a big fan of that feeling. At all.

Saturday, February 08, 2014

*sigh*

he’s one damn fine human being…

In case you can’t read that:
Amberly: I need this retweeted by you to show my family that being gay isn’t always something you choose. They think I’m broken. Please. @Markgatiss

Mark Gatiss: Not a choice @Amberly29519238 - a gift. Be happy and strong. x

(For those not in the know, although I have no idea how you can not know this if you’re a regular reader, Mark Gatiss (pronounced GAY-tiss, BTW) is a co-creator and writer on my beloved Sherlock (BBC). He’s also written for Doctor Who. And… he’s married. To a dude.)

This isn’t the first time he’s done something like this, and I totally adore him because of it.

It almost offsets the Moffat factor. But not by too much, since he still lets Moffat write episodes of Sherlock. *sigh*

——

In a more serious note, my divorcing friend pissed me off the other day.

I’d finally had enough and snapped at them via text.

Told them that they seriously needed to figure out how to rewire themselves. This default position of wanting to give up and/or threatening suicide (it’s really one and the same, isn’t it?), is old, is tired, and is not fair to those of us that love them.

I mean, seriously, I’m starting to feel that it’s a cry for attention. At any rate, it’s fucking obnoxious.

And I know I shouldn’t feel that way, but it felt good to call them out on it.

I mean, me, of all people, saying something like that… to someone I feel is shattered beyond repair.

I’m an arsehole… I know that.

I haven’t heard from them since, and I’m (frighteningly) OK with that.

There has been too much drama, and despite my promises to tolerate it, and not walk away, I just can’t deal with it.

They wonder why they’re getting divorced…

If they could only read the texts they sent me from my point of view - or even their spouse’s - they’d see just what sort of damage they’re capable of inflicting and why we’re not willing to put up with it.

I offered to let them live with us because I felt like I was backed into a corner - suicide or a homeless shelter - and neither one is acceptable.

I shouldn’t have made the offer. Once things calmed down, it hit me hard what an amazingly terrible idea that is.

I can’t handle them from a distance… living with them has the potential to absolutely destroy me.

So now, I’m back where I started from - wanting to run as far as them as I possibly can, and needing to stay and support them as long as they make the right decision, of course.

Can’t stand by and support a dead person, can I?

——

In happier news, my boss absolutely loves me. He said as much yesterday.

I got my business cards. If that’s not a sign of permanence, I don’t know what is.

I got an official invite from the Department of Athletics to go to their monthly finance meeting. The other staff accountant didn’t, and he’s the one who is supposed to be working for them full time. I’m supposed to be working for the other building we manage, which is not affiliated with the University in any way, shape, or form.

It makes me wonder - especially since everything’s been so confused and fucked up because of the mess we were thrown into on day one - what my role actually is is. What I’m being groomed for. I have my ideas, of course, and they thrill me beyond belief.

I tell everyone who asks how much I love this job, and it’s the truth. I could not be happier. The universe certainly made up for fucking me over the past year.

I love it to the point that when BU played my employer last night. I was tempted to cheer for both teams. (I love both sets of boys - the school I was supposed to go to and the one that funds my paychecks.) Hockey East is getting more complicated…UConn, my employer, BU. Our neighbours in 114 are going to end up hating me next season. *grin*

And on that note, it’s time to look for a hack to my never ending external drive issue and get the power button on my MBP fixed.

Woo!!!! I am living it up today! Jealous?

Sunday, February 02, 2014

All hail the Cumberdork!

this man is pure perfection, even at his dorkiest

What a crazy week.

It is hard to learn a new job when the person training you doesn’t know what they’re doing.

I don’t mean that in a ‘he’s stupid’ kind of way, but a ‘he walked into a completely fucked up situation that he was unprepared for and has no idea where to even start cleaning up the mess and oh my Dog, what the fuck do I do with this person sitting next to me chomping at the bit to do stuff?’ kind of way.

After three weeks, he’s made some major progress and I feel like I’ve learned enough to start doing stuff on my own. I spent all of Friday at my own desk working on the few things I know how to do. It was crappy data entry - two months of catch up for two different buildings - but it was GLORIOUS. I’ve never been so happy to just sit at a desk and endlessly type random crap like “0020-000-00” and “0037-002-00” a gazillion times.

Unlike the last jackwagon I worked for, he LOVES that I’m taking notes. Good notes. None of that “if you can’t understand this, you’re stupid” kind of shit.

I honestly do not know how I could possibly be any happier. (Outside of having this exact job in the UK, perhaps… but that’s not an option right now.)

——

Found out two good friends broke up last night. It breaks my heart.

——

Also spent the last two days texting with a friend who is getting a divorce. They’re not in a good place, and it’s not an exaggeration to say that I feel like I’m on suicide watch. I’ve been so careful with what I’ve been saying, but it’s exhausting to not let them have it with both barrels. I’m glad that - despite the amount I fell apart during my unemployment - I’m strong enough to be able to be here for them over the past two days. It hasn’t been easy and it kind of ruined my night out with Black Mountain Symphony last night, but that’s what friends do right?

However, it was an emotionally exhausting two days (so far - I’m currently being ignored again), and now I know why I internalise everything and don’t unload on friends.

——

Possibly related, my phone’s internal dictionary has decided to ignore the fact that it’s set to British English and seeing words spelt the American way is annoying. It’s starting to seriously fuck with my head.

I guess that’s a sign that my employer needs to move to England sooner rather than later…

——

I’ve decided to take the little bit of both the Johnlock and Marlas 30 Day OTP Challenges I’ve written and post them on AO3. I hate when people publish unfinished works, but after driving to both Worcester and Chester, VT this weekend, the voices in my head have told me it’s time to polish and post.

I’ve never been able to argue with the creativity-related voices in my head.