2014 Can Go to H E Double Hockey Sticks

Please tell me this year is almost over. I don’t think I can handle much more of this BS.

In the middle of designing a show, the computer died. Like, dead. Not turning on kind of dead. Mac Store Genius Bar please save us kind of dead. The show opens Friday, it would be kinda nice if they had sound to go along with it. Especially since it is income we have already budgeted for.

It started as a few gray bars across the screen. Then a few times the computer would crash and need to be restarted, but it would always restart. Until…

Luckily, we learned from a previous mistake and backed up the cues onto a USB drive. Unluckily, that apparently means absolutely nothing if the sounds that the cues are pulled from are not on the recipients computer. Which is easily fixable by drop-boxing the cue list to another computer. That somehow takes all the sounds over with it. (I clearly have very limited technical understanding of cyberspace.) Which we could easily do if the freakin computer would just turn on one more time!

So, as a stand-by, we have a friends computer to use to hopefully salvage some of the design or build from new in about a day. We have another appointment with the Genius Bar in the hopes that they can get the thing on at least once. And then we have a new external hard-drive (cuz oh yeah, did I mention, the old one decided to stop working for no reason) to back-up the whole computer so the GB can dig further to see if the computer is fixable with a new part, or if a new computer is required. They are reluctant to do that now because it will mean an automatic wipe of the computer, and if it is not backed up, their opinion is that we would be better served just buying a new one.

I mean seriously. I’ve had the TV for over 3 years now, so I’m expecting that to be next month’s pain in my butt. But it could be the water heater again, cuz my hot shower lasts for about 2 minutes before it gets lukewarm, a consistent problem since before the explosion. Perchance we will just convert to Amish and eliminate all modern conveniences from our lives before they get the pleasure of doing it themselves.

Shaky fist at sky!


Best Trip Ever

I have never been pregnant, so I do not speak from experience. However, I have spoken to enough people, seen enough videos, and heard enough “water cooler” chatter to feel that I am speaking with some level of knowledge.

If there was not some magical, mystical “other experience”, some indescribable euphoria or sense of accomplishment, ownership, love, whatever, very few families would extend beyond one child. 9 months of back pain, mood swings, barfing, anxiety and sheer panic, heartbreak, and a multitude of other horrific changes that come and go with no consistency are reason enough. But when one considers that this experience is a seemingly endless march toward horrific pain and fundamental shifts in the human body, sometimes surgical scars and missing pieces, to consider replicating this event could be nothing short of insanity. But that “something else” deletes those experiences from recollection. Perhaps the memory of having felt pain is there, but the actual feeling cannot be recalled. The stories of misery and crying are retold, but the happiness, glow, and joy are all that can be re-experienced. This sensory and emotional amnesia is what tricks many one-time mothers into two, three, four or more time mothers.

And that is how I feel about my vacation.

I went to visit my sister and her family. 3 boys ranging in age from 4 months to 6 years and a dog. In recalling the trip to my husband and co-workers, I am not surprised that the totality of the experience is an overwhelming sense of joy, love, uplifted emotional sensibility, and just a really fun time. The 6:00 am wake-up call every morning and the rug burned knees and the sunburned aching back and the sore throat and the bug bites and the bouts of pouting and tears that can shatter your soul are completely outstripped by the laughter and dancing and fun. Remembering how those kids giggled and acted silly and said “I love you” or “I wuv you” just melts my heart. My brain sees those baby blue eyes and that wide open mouth curling into a smile and a nose wrinkle and a head shake and completely deletes the fact that two seconds prior he just emptied the contents of his stomach onto my shirt. (That baby is so chill, totally willing to just hang out and watch with no commentary necessary. Unless he’s starving. And he hasn’t seemed to figure out hungry yet, just perfectly happy and full to holy crap I haven’t eaten in forever I need food so five minutes ago FEED ME!)

I am hopeful that my visit resonates on the fun and happy side of the meter for them too, and I assume that it does. I am confident in the knowledge that the older boys find me incredibly silly and am delighted that they are willing to be silly with me, even if they can’t always remember whether I am Aunt Amanda or Aunt Caki. And I take the 4 month old rolling over for the first time while I was there as his personal stamp of approval on another new aunt.

Of course, we carved out adult time for ourselves as well, and I enjoyed getting to relax and take advantage of the vacation part of my vacation doing grown-up things. Spa treatment with cocktails, fancy dinner in an open air courtyard, TV that did not include animation.

I think the best compliment to this vacation is that I am still high from it, even after coming back to the office and beginning the long trek through 200+ emails and needy supervisors and the same old co-workers. If I feel like slipping into a rotten place, I just remember the sandball fight on the beach or roasting cotton balls over a paper fire and I’m back up on cloud nine.