Sassistas! Our dish on the social soup.

The Gray Curtain

No matter what language it's in, the above message on one's computer screen is alarming, especially when it is preceded by a gray curtain descending from the top of one's computer screen to the bottom (in the Windows operating system, the screen apparently just stays blue and is known as the "Blue Screen of Death").  Apple prefers the term, "kernel panic".  Apple products may panic, but they never ever die.

I asked a techhead friend to describe "kernel panic" in a way I understood.  He said, "It's like you're reading instructions for putting together a complicated piece of IKEA furniture and the 18th critical step is left out. You need bolt Q, but it's not there. So the computer shuts down because it does not understand what to do or where to go next."

Don't you wish that happened to humans?  Or perhaps it does. Flannista knows that she shut down a good part of the past 48 hours, numb from a seemingly catatrosphic failure for an iMac that is just four months old.  What did I do wrong? Should I have shut it down more often rather than putting it to sleep?  Do I play Nine Inch Nails music on iTunes too much?  Do I use the f-word within earshot of the logic board?  Who knows? I will confess that it felt okay to shut down in a new way. A year ago, I would have ranted and wept and stomped my feet.  This weekend, I just shut up, tried not to panic. Have patience. Thought a lot about Gwendolyn waiting for biopsy and CT scan results. Then I realized that I was calm enough to do my own pondering and wondered if the problem began when I changed the track pad batteries ten days ago . . . could they be bad?  Could the bluetooth track pad be that missing part -- bolt Q? Could my panic be resolved simply by inserting two other new batteries?

It seems it could. Jury is still out, but so far, so good.

I find myself humbled by it all . . . and wondering about how much I have relied on computers for my sense of well-being. Perhaps it's time the gray curtain came down on that need, and a brighter curtain came up on what more reliably enlightens my soul. I don't yet know.  I do know that I'm not going to panic about it.

Would not using your computer for a week enlighten your soul?  If no, why?  If yes, how so?

 

Technical Difficulties

 

Flannista's computer tech is flummoxed by Flann's computer.  It's all unplugged, sitting in Flann's office broken and forlorn.  Stay tuned. (We hope.)

Progress

 

Private Parts

The Sassistas! finally get it that some things should just remain private, including one's private parts.

Yesterday afternoon, we watched CNN's coverage of Rep. Anthony D. Weiner's (D-NY) tearful confession of sending a photo of himself in his underwear to a woman via Twitter and then lying about it.  After the press conference, all of the CNN commentators opined some variation of this: "I've never seen anything quite like this before.  It was surreal."

It was private.

Don't get us wrong, we think Weiner is stupid as all get out and needs to be in therapy RIGHT NOW, but we don't need to actually hear an Oprah-endorsed therapist explain to Wolf Blitzer why.  "I mean, look at him," said the therapist.  "He's got so much testosterone. It has to come out in SOME way."  She then detailed the kind of therapy that not only he would need, but also the kind his wife would need.  We then heard an interview with another woman to whom he sent sexually suggestive photos of himself after she posted on his facebook page that a recent legislative decision of his had been "hot".  Seriously. When asked what she thought of what the Congressman did in response to her "hot" post, she said -- barely disguising how turned on she was -- "it was risky."

We nearly put our hands over our ears and began yelling, "LA-LA-LA-LA-LA."

We have posted many times about marital infidelities in the sassosphere (John Edwards immediately comes to mind) and a couple of the sistas and mistas commented that stupidity such as this is always private.  We always pushed back in the name of possibly using public funds for such execrable behavior, the public's right to know, blah, blah, blah.

Enough is enough. We're weary of this lazy idiocy, and we're weary of wives and/or husbands who literally dismiss this behavior as merely "very dumb" as Rep. Weiner claimed his wife did.  We've had it with men and women who wear their sexual prowess like a badge of honor.  We don't care about your private parts or how often you have sex and with how many different partners or in how many different positions or the photos taken. Neither do we need to know the details of your therapy.  

If you lie, you're a jerk.  Shut up about it.

People are literally starving in the streets, for Christ's sake.  They need help.  Now.

Grow up already.

 

The Seducer

Remember "The Intruder" from last week?

Thanks to the expert help of three special guys from the Geek Squad on Tuesday morning, Flannista is now quite comfortable living with the VIZIO TRULED LCD HDTV M-I-C-K-E-Y SRS she is officially calling "The Seducer".

As I predicted, I did have to upgrade the rest of my sound system to match the kick-ass quality of the new television. After much internet research, I went to Best Buy to buy the home theater I wanted. The clerks there were impressed by my choice, but of course had to sell me kick-ass speaker wire, kick-ass HDMI cables, kick-ass speaker stands, a kick-ass circuit breaker "power center", a kick-ass wireless thingy so my back speakers would not require wires and a kick-ass iPod dock for the new receiver. Last, but not least, I was asked this: "You aren't going to try and hook all of this stuff up yourself are you, ma'am?"  The clerk made me a deal I couldn't refuse, and I forked over the extra moola for kick-ass Geek Squad assistance first thing Monday morning.

The Geek Squad never showed up on Monday morning.  Talk about kicking ass.  After persistent calling (during one call, I was on hold for 68 minutes -- so long the battery in my portable phone died), I learned that the technician had been in an accident over the weekend. No one had called me, however, to let me know and it was now 4:48 p.m. I was fuming and insisted that the Geek Squad show up first thing Tuesday morning.

It did, represented by Sterling, Miles and Calvin. That's Sterling and Calvin in the upper post photo and that's Miles playing my piano in the photo to the left.  

In a word, these guys were terrific. They opened up the boxes, set up the speakers, plugged everything where it needed to go, then ran a series of tests that included a sound check. "Could we have a moment of silence, please?" asked Miles as he ran the kick-ass sound test thingy. Then they helped create a cheat sheet for me on which remote to use for what and what button to push when, etc.  They also made a couple of very good recommendations for even BETTER picture and sound and will be coming back. 

What can I say . . . every time I watch TV or listen to music . . . I AM IN LOVE!!!

My Geek Squad experience was about much more than the new equipment.  It was also about spending a couple of hours with three guys who knew their stuff and treated my new equipment, not to mention, me, with patience and kindness. Thank you, Geek Squad!

And who knew that Miles played such kick-ass jazz piano?

The Intruder

It was bound to happen sooner or later.  Day after day, hour after hour, you plop yourself in your favorite reading chair, pick up the ONE remote, aim it at the cable box and voilà! The television and your super-duper extra movie channels pop up, not to mention, your ON DEMAND menu, and you are good to go for the next couple of hours. But then one day -- specifically Tuesday afternoon -- you aim the remote and the picture on your 14-year-old tank of a Sony TV flickers and then slowly fades when Ridge on "The Bold and the Beautiful" appears. You clap your hands furiously like you did as a kid to get Tinker Bell back, but nuthin' happens.  A blank screen.  

Say it ain't so, Old Faithful.

But alas, it is.  You quickly call a friend's husband -- an EXpert on electronics -- who informs you that he recently did a bunch of research and without a doubt, you need a VIZIO TRULED LCD HDTV M-I-C-K-E-Y SRS.  You research VIZIO LEDs and find the model you want.  Target carries it, but alas, not the Target closest to you, but a large bag of Hershey's assorted chocolates is on sale so the trip is not wasted. You go to Amazon and discover a Vizio LED with internet capability that is what?!  $598 reduced from $899?! And shipping is free for Amazon Prime customers and it can be at my home in 12 HOURS?!  

Done.

Well, The Intruder arrived yesterday morning by 9 and all technology broke loose.  What was I going to do with Old Faithful, the Sony tank that I could not lift?  Did I now need an HD cable box? Which remote would be the universal remote?  Why can't I read the names of these tiny ports in the back, even with my glasses on?  What's an HDMI cord? Does it go in HMDI ports 1, 2 or 3? What about the DVD player? Where's the VIA Dock? What the hell is a "Widget Gallery"?  And please, sweet Jesus, don't tell me that one of the widgets is a facebook internet app. It follows me EVERYWHERE.

I call Comcast and learn that I need a new cable box. I rush to a local office, wait in line and am greeted by Jeannette (pictured left). She takes my old cable box and hands me a new one half the size of the old one.  She is surprisingly friendly, so I shyly ask, "Now I'm not going to be charged for HD streaming until I actually set up this new box because I'm an idiot and it may take a couple of days."

JEANETTE: We begin charging for HD the minute you pick up this box.

FLANNISTA: But I'm an idiot. I have no idea how long it will take me to set this up.

JEANETTE: What if I told you that I'll let you have the box for a year for free (it's normally $6.50 more a month)?

FLANN: What you talkin' about, Willis?

JEANETTE:  I also see that you are paying way too much on your monthly bill.  How about if I lower that $123.95/month to the new rate of $51.99 a month for a year and you'll still get all those wonderful channels. Then in a year, you come see me and we'll talk again.

FLANN:  WHAT?  You can do that?

JEANETTE:  You've been a good customer.

Flabbergasting, no?  I'd like to tell you that the story ends with Matissta and me having no problems whatsoever getting the cable company to begin HD streaming last evening. We were on the phone last evening for at least 110 minutes. The cable box would not come on. Neither was there a power switch. Comcast customer service providers asked us for the Model and Serial Numbers of the box. They were flummoxed. Finally, I decided to try the cable box remote to power on the cable box because we couldn't find a power button.  HD cable streaming began immediately.  Matissta then figured out the DVD player. The Intruder still isn't properly hooked up to my stereo system and I'm still intimidated about how to use two remotes and turning one of them into the "universal remote".

It's going to take a while until I can live peacefully with The Intruder.  Wish Jeanette lived next door.

Desiring

We don't know about you, but the Sassistas! need a break from the national budget, taxes and Middle East unrest. Last week, barista sent us the above video and it brought us much peace.  Flannista especially has watched the video several times this week to maintain some semblance of peace in the midst of her professional responsibilities and travel, especially her trip tomorrow to the New Mexico desert with PEACEsista to see Gwendolyn.

The song you hear in this video is "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring."  What song might you have chosen to play using this method?  Flann is thinkin' something from Nine Inch Nails.  

What about you?

Watson

 An Open Letter to Watson, the IBM Computer who this week on Jeopardy!, according to USA Today, "chewed up and spat out humanity's finest knights of trivia . . . in a $77,147 drubbing of past record winners Ken Jennings ($24,000 total) and Brad Rutter ($21,600):

Dr. Watson (we presume):

The Sassistas! watched you on "Jeopardy!" this week not only because "Jeopardy!" ends with an exclamation point like we do, but also because we were curious about how smart you really are. Bet you're feelin' like Hal from "2001: Space Odyssey" or "The Terminator" right now.  Look at you, all high and mighty and well, dull to look at, not to mention, listen to.

Here's one of the things that bugged us about you.  Those "Jeopardy!" episodes were really three long commercials for IBM disguised as "Jeopardy!"  How many times did we have to hear about how you were created and how forward-thinking IBM was?  Once was enough.  In fact, once was too many.  But you know what?  You aren't as smart as you think you are because we believe there are COUNTLESS questions you could never answer. For example:

• What is the meaning of life?
• Why is the sky blue?
• How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?

We believe the sassosphere can come up with a bajillion questions such as these that you could NEVER answer. So there, Mr. Smarty-Pants.  Wait, you ain't got no pants.  There's another question for ya -- where in the hell are your pants?

Sincerely yours, The Sassistas!

P.S. Black is not a good color on you.

Hard Drive

Driving home the Mac technician last night was hard.  

With Brian in the back of Flannista's car was Flann's MacPro tower -- Mac's largest computer (it looks like a small silver refrigerator) that has been by Flannista's right side since June of 2007. Flann walked into her home office this morning and was greeted by what you see above.

The good news is that Brian was able to confirm that my external back-up hard drive had saved all of my most important documents and media.  Further that the "Media Pool" hard drive in the computer (which stores more film footage and photos) seemed to be okay.  The bad news is that the Macintosh hard drive appears to have failed, but this can only be confirmed by installing a new hard drive (which I ordered last night when I got home) in a couple of days. The absolute worst news would be that my computer problem is not the hard drive at all, but rather the mother board which will essentially mean trashing a $3,000 system. 

If you had been there when I purchased this system three and a half years ago, you would have a better appreciation for why the blood drains from my face when I think about losing it altogether.  Computers and me have never been a good fit.  It entailed a huge leap of faith to make the investment and to attempt to learn all the software.  

I'm kind of in a state of shock; certainly a state of limbo. My routine has been to wake up, go to the bathroom, rinse off my mouthguard and turn on the computer. Now I seem unmoored.  I am forced to spend time in other parts of my home, like the reading chair in my living room (where I sit now) or my small writing room.

When I asked Matissta why this happened she said, "To teach you patience." 

Patience is something Brian has in abundance, by the way.  Determining the cause of a malfunctioning computer is a painstaking process of elimination.  At one point, Brian totally reconfigured the computer to its original condition, meaning installing the original mouse and removing the 8 additional gigs of memory Matiss and I had installed this summer.  When I asked him why such and such wasn't working, he replied, "There really isn't any reason or cause.  Like people, computers have personalities.  Some are fussy and difficult."

"You mean my computer could have taken on MY personality?" I asked.

I'm trying to be patient until the new hard drive arrives, and Brian determines if that was indeed the problem all along.  I should know by the end of the week. Until then, I need some encouragement.  This computer was purchased as a means to harness and transform much of my creativity. I feel quiet and defeated. Like a dark monitor screen. Empty canvas. Blank piece of paper.

This might not be a bad thing.  

What do you think?

 

Empty

Last week, Matissta noticed that my computer was processing email, applications, commands, etc., rather slowly and suggested I "clean up" some of my programs.  I knew immediately that my first task would be to purge my "Sent" email box of more than 7,500 messages I had compiled since July 2007 when I first began sending email on my MacPro. While I had often purged my "In" box, I had never purged my "Out" box.

What a time-consuming, embarrassing, and ultimately, revelatory task!  I learned several things about myself and several of my beloveds:

• I hate the medium of email.  Always have.  Always will.  Yes, it's convenient, blah, blah, blah, but I cannot BELIEVE how awful much of my writing is.  Lame. Perfunctory.  Downright boring.
• TRM's executive assistant loves email.  For any one project including writing a simple thank-you note for TRM, she sent out, at a minimum, 5-7 email requests . . . until I responded. Then 5-7 more emails letting me know that TRM was running late for a phone conference, blah, blah, blah.
• Aging parents seem to cling to life. A couple of my beloveds have been waiting several years for a parent to die, a parent who keeps clinging to life.
• I am completely unoriginal when it comes to making excuses. Dear gawd, why can't I just come right out and say I am not interested in something?  Why do I resort to "I'm not feeling well" or "I'm too tired" or "must sit with a sick neighbor/neighbor's pet"?
• Email is NOT the medium to express disappointment or to resolve conflict. Being the high-strung, needy, self-absorbed broad I am, I've butted heads with several beloveds.  I will try to NEVER AGAIN attempt to resolve these disappointments/conflicts online.  Pick up the phone, Flannista!  Or meet face to face, if possible.

Many more lessons abound, but Flannista is too embarrassed to reveal them all.  In fact, she purposely made the image of her "Sent" email box at the time of this writing (see image left) quite small so you wouldn't be able to see how many messages she saved from the original 7,500+.

Okay, if you must know, about 600.

'Fess up, sassosphere.  What do you really think of email as a medium for intimate communication?