Clearly I cannot tell teim (or spell)

According to Facebook, my site is "down for maintenance, and should be available again in a few hours." Facebook is "sorry for any inconvenience this has caused."

That note has been on my Facebook page since last Sunday. It is now Wednesday. According to MY mental math, that is way more than "a few hours." Facebook is also "aware of this problem and our technical team is working hard to correct it."

You would think, since I cannot waste as much time farting around on Facebook like I normally do, that I would be getting tons more stuff done around the house. Which would be a good thing, since I am leaving at 5am for a five-day scrapbooking retreat in Ohio. (Hello, beautiful autumn colors, I cannot wait to see you again .....)

But, no. Instead I am obsessively checking my computer, possibly even more than normal, to see if Facebook is "fixed" yet. Because I cannot bear that the lives of my "friends" are going on as usual and I do not know what they are doing. (Nosy, much? Why yes I am.) Thank goodness I don't play farmtown or mafia wars, because at this point my crops would have withered and died and my mafia gangsters would have .... would have .... well, whatever abandoned mafia gangters do.

Facebook, come back to me. Or at least teach me how you tell time, so I can know when "a few hours" will be.

Still ...

PS. If you have a second, send up a positive thought for Blaine this afternoon. He's going in for a root canal on a tooth ..... in a location that the dentist told him previously "they could never get to, in a million years". He can't open his mouth wide enough due to scar tissue and radiation for them to reach this tooth easily, and short of the doctor using a crow bar and dynomite, we're a little curious how they're going to make it happen. Promises to be a fun day in the dentist's chair for Blaine!

********************************************

Still cutting.

Still pasting.

Still dragging archived links and photos over.

Still working up my nerve to attempt this fancy search and replace script that one of my readers was kind enough to force her computer-savvy husband to write for me .... (I feel pretty special about it, to be honest)

Thanks for not giving up on me ...

In the meantime, if you're just dying for something to read (which I highly doubt, what with, you know, you guys have LIVES and everything ....) here is an old update of mine that will, at the very least, give you something to pass the time for ten minutes ...

Long Lost Art of Letter Writing (at least how it applies to Kendrie on treatment ...)

Sacrifice the limb to save the life

I'm going to be MIA around here for the next week or so.

I received a reminder yesterday that due to my old photo storage site shutting down, the first five year's worth of my journal entries will become the internet equivalent of a boat anchor in about four weeks. That's when the storage site (that I have faithfully paid for, every single month, since November of 2003, not that I'm freaking BITTER or anything) is being shut down and all my photos along with it.

I thought I had dodged this bullet by upgrading my storage site, but I found out this week I had not.

The photos have actually been saved, but they will disappear from my blog forever if I don't manually change the url addresses of almost two thousand photos ... one by one .... by hand .... individually .... manually .... yes, I know you know what the word "manually" means, but I feel the need to drive home the point. Do I really want to spend several hundred hours poring through my archives and changing each address? No, no I do not.

So at this point, I feel my options are threefold:

1) Accept that the blog entries themselves aren't going anywhere and learn to live with almost two thousand little red x's, where the photos for the last five years should be.

2) Accept that this blog has run its course, do nothing, and shut down the site. Then spend the time I normally spend writing here doing other things (Blaine: "Kristie, let me introduce you to the vacuum cleaner!" .... and relieving myself of the anxiety I feel when I have nothing to blog about.

3) Accept that I need to be a little more proactive about transferring my content over to a site of my own before it is all deleted. This is the option I am most seriously considering, but I have to get all my ducks in a row, so to speak, before I can move forward with this plan.

So excuse me while I spend the next few days (FINALLY! This is what I get for procrastinating .....) transferring the remainder of my blog archives over from Caringbridge. And hope that the web design team I'm consulted can really and truly save everything as easily (although not cheap ...) as they say they can.

I don't want to quit blogging. I enjoy doing this. I consider it my personal journal and love the fact my children's childhoods are being documented in this way.

But I have to be realistic about the time and money I'm willing to put into this. This is not a business blog or a blog for money or a blog for ads or a blog that really accomplishes anything besides for my own pleasure .... its just my silly little personal blog. For now, I'm sacrificing the limb (updating for the next week or two) in the hopes I can save the life of the blog.

Please excuse the absence.

You can't teach an old dog (that would be ME) new tricks

I signed up a few weeks ago to take an online course -- Introduction to Photoshop CS4. I bought the Photoshop software several months ago, but shockingly, what I discovered (much to my extreme dismay) was that simply *possessing* the software doesn't magically impart the knowledge of how to *utilize* the software into your brain. Neither does installing the software, or playing with the software. Hmmmm. Who knew?

So a friend (Hi, Katie!) suggested an online course from a company (company?) she had used previously, and I signed up, thinking it would be a snap. I had already used previous versions of Photoshop, and was actually pretty comfortable with them --- I just needed someone to tell me how the new and improved bells and whistles work. I mean, I don't mean to be smug about it, but with the exception of the new features, I could probably TEACH the class, right? How hard could it be?

Wow.

Could I have been more wrong???

Week One, people, and I've already had to ask for message board help twice --- IN WEEK ONE!!!

The other students are all "Hi, good to be back!" and "Hey, thanks for the quick refresher!" and "The homework this week was so fun and easy!!!" OK, you have to imagine the tone of voice and snippy little hand gestures I am seriously using to make fun of these people who I am clearly jealous of ..... Because, um, hello!? They all seem to know what the heck they are doing already, and I suspect a few of them are totally sucking up to the teacher {not really, but I'm being a poor sport about this} and I couldn't be more pathetic if I tattoo'd the word "NEWBIE" across my forehead.

As part of my homework, I was supposed to post a screenshot image, which I had no idea how to do. I was supposed to have this cool title bar above my images, which were not there. And tonight, while desperately trying to get my homework uploaded to share before the deadline, I realized that ............. I do not know how to upload my images so that more than one image at a time shows on a subdirectory on my website. So instead of sending one link, showing my five assignments ...... I had to send five separate links, thereby clearly labeling me The Biggest Doofus To Ever Take This Class In The History Of Doofus --es.

And not only is it the teacher who will immediately recognize my doofus-ness, but all students in the class have access to each other's homework images --- which basically means everyone in the class knows already --- remember, it's WEEK FREAKING ONE --- that I am clearly the class idiot.

Do they actually *make* virtual dunce hats??? Because I have a freakishly big head and will need one in XXL.

You're on notice, Facebook

Because I've been blogging since November of 2003 (I know! You'd think I'd be all talked out by now but nope, I just keep babbling on and on and on and never shut up ...) and already spewing forth my opinions and feelings all over the internet, ready or not, here I come, I never felt the need to jump on the Myspace bandwagon. I technically *have* a Myspace page, but I never visit it or update it or do anything with it. In fact, it might even be deleted now, for all I know. And to be honest, whenever I would visit anyone else's Myspace page, it often looked like a graphics program had thrown up on my computer screen .... so yeah, I pretty much avoided Myspace all together.

I wasn't too enthusiastic about Facebook initially, either, because I assumed it was another version of Myspace. In fact, I can't even remember the impetus that made me sign up for Facebook, but at some point I caved because everyone else I knew was doing it, and so I did it .... and what do you know? I really liked it. I enjoyed connecting with old friends, and having old friends connect with me. Most of all, I appreciated the quick, convenient method of staying connected via status updates.

Unfortunately, just like shoulder pads, the Dorothy Hamill haircut, and the premature cancellation of "Freaks and Geeks", all good things must come to an end. And the Facebook status update page, which I LOVED for staying connected, was ... well... updated.

And it sucks.

First, I lost the page that had the quick, one-line updates for my "friends". It took me an hour to figure out that I had to open my own page, then hit the "home" tab to find the status updates. And it took another hour of me googling all over the internet to figure out that I could set up some kind of core group, and see only their status updates now. So I did that. And it works .... meh.

Because I don't just see their status updates, I also see every comment that every one of *their* friends (most of whom are people I do not know) makes on those updates. And if one of those people updates two or three times in one day, I see ALL of those. And I seriously wonder, who the hell has time to sit around and continually update their Facebook status all day? Then I learned that basically, that's the same thing as Twittering, and so apparently TONS of people have time because isn't Twitter the newest, hottest, most-happening rage of this century? And I put my foot down there and refuse to Twitter because for pete's sake, I can barely keep up with my laundry as it is and do I really need another thing to do on the computer??? Yet everyone else was basically Twittering on Facebook.

But you know what? It was ok.

Then I quickly discovered that not only do I get every status update that every person cares to send, but I also get a notification of every web link or you tube link or personal video or photo or sets of photos that a person puts on their page.

And you know what? It was still ok.

Because these people are my FRIENDS. And shouldn't I be remotely interested in seeing pictures of their families? And their friends? And their pets? Or any other thing they care to share via Facebook? Of course I should. They are my FRIENDS, and I CARE.

But do you want to know what I do NOT care about? What I, in fact, couldn't care LESS about???

Every single stupid fucking quiz and application, and the results of those stupid fucking quizzes and applications, that every single person on the planet has time to take. And then their friends comments about those stupid fucking quizzes and applications.

Saturday, I started keeping track. It's been four days, and I've had to "hide" the following quizzes so they quit showing up:

1. So-and-so sent someone a drink!
2. So-and-so sent someone flowers!
3. So-and-so sent someone a muppet gift! (wtf?)
4. What was so-and-so's profession in a past life? (here's a hint: I don't care)
5. Which Little House character is so-and-so? (still not caring)
6. So-and-so got their fortune told! (are you sensing the not-really-caring pattern here?)
7. Which Hollywood actress is so-and-so?
8. So-and-so took the Sunday School song trivia quiz!
9. So-and-so took the 80's movie quiz!
10. Which kind of mom is so-and-so?
11. What Bible verse fits you best?
12. Are you a true Cincinnatian?
13. So-and-so took the Prayer-in-School poll!
14. What classic photographic emulsion are you?
15. Where in the US should you live?
16. What fruit of the spirit are you?
17. So-and-so took a personality test!
18. How many kids will you have?!
19. What is your old lady name?

and best of all ....

20. So-and-so sent someone Snoopy's Friendly Flowers!!!!!

Are you kidding me?!?!?!?

I DO NOT CARE, AND IT IS NOT OK !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Here's the thing --- taking those tests and quizzes can be fun. I've taken a few, and every now and then, a few minutes of mindless entertainment ... sure, knock yourself out. (Although the "friends" I have who are taking them all day long confuse me, because honestly, you would think people would have something better to do with their time than sit around taking Facebook quizzes all day I don't know maybe work in a soup kitchen or read to the blind or walk dogs at the local animal shelter or ANYTHING for God's sake that is more productive than these stupid fucking tests ......)

But I digress.

My point, Facebook, is that I have no problems with your tests, and other people's choice to take them. I *DO* have a problem with the fact I have to "hide" every single test to keep it from showing up on my status update page again. And that for every test I "hide", five different tests show up.

So to the dear people in charge at Facebook --- If people want to time-suck their life away finding out what their porn star name is, or which My Little Pony gift would make them the happiest, or which Facts of Life character they are, or which fucking SMURF they most resemble ........ fine. More power to them. But for the love of all that is holy, bring back the old status update page so I don't have to look at it, ok?

Until then, Facebook, you're on notice.

Should have at least bought myself dinner first

As anyone familiar with this blog knows, I am not really computer-savvy. I'm not technically "afraid" or "intimidated" by computers and technology, I just want them to work -- properly -- without problem or complication or glitch. Ever. Because I can sail along fine for months on end and as long as things are working, I'm happy. But the minute there's a hint of a trace of a problem with anything tech-related, the minute my computer does not do what it is supposed to (and normally, what it's been doing just fine for years) I flail about and moan and whine and wail like a two-year old in dire need of a nap. It's not pretty, just ask Blaine, the unfortunate soul who usually bears the brunt of my tantrum frustration.

I started Kendrie's Caringbridge site in November of 2003, so about five and a half years ago. I started this Not Quite blog in December of 2006, and have been slowly (v....e....r....y....) slowly trying to get all the old CB entries copied and pasted over, so that everything is in one place -- a process I find tedious and boring and slow and dull as anything and well, you get the picture. Which is probably why I haven't made more progress.

For a brief period, I was all raz-matazz with borders and graphics and music on the site, but over the years, as I've gotten lazy streamlined my style, the only thing I've continued to share are photos. I should probably be more internet safety-conscious about putting so many pictures of my kids online -- isn't this the very thing Oprah preached against recently? And goodness knows I've listed our last name enough that it's way too late to go back now and try and pretend to be all anonymous ... plus, to be honest, I don't have the creativity or energy to think up cutesy little online nicknames for my family members. We are who we are, and I put us out there, names and photos and all.

Anyway, blah blah. What was my point?

Oh, yeah. I share photos because I like to. I like seeing them on other people's sites, and as long as I continue to feel comfortable with it, I plan to continue sharing them here. I love that some of you feel like you're watching my kids grow up and are kind enough to care about my kids, even online.

I've been using a Yahoo Geocities site for the entire five and a half years, primarily problem free, to store my pictures and link them to my blog. I pay a small fee per month for "x" amount of data storage and "x" amount of data transfer usage and for the most part, once I figured out the process, it's been great. First I download my pictures from my camera to my computer, then I have to use my photo editing program to resize them to fit the blog. Then I use the Geocities Easy Upload program to get the photos to my Geocities storage site, then I use an html code-link-whatever-you-call-it to place the photos in my blog. There's no doubt an easier way to accomplish this, but after so many years, I have it pretty streamlined, it doesn't take too long, and I am content with the process.

Or should I say, WAS content.

(yeah, that's right. another long, tedious post where I bitch and moan about computers and computer service technicians and life in general ....humor me, please)

The only problem I have is sometimes I go over my allotted amount of data transfer usage each month, depending on how many hits my site gets, and how many photo-heavy entries I post. When that happens, all my pictures turn to little red x's until the month resets itself. It's annoying, nothing more, but when I got notice last night that I was fixing to exceed my limit -- again -- I thought perhaps it was time to finally do something about it. So I followed the Yahoo prompts to "buy more data transfer" ...... and signed up for their web host program, which provides unlimited data storage and unlimited data transfer. Sweet, huh?

Um, no.

I went into my Geocities account this morning to make sure it had been credited the additional amounts (because Lord knows they charged my credit card immediately for the entire year) and it hadn't. So I called their sales department, which promptly transferred me to the tech support department, where I had an estimated hold time of 34 minutes, and would I like to push "1" for a call back from the next available representative, why yes I would, thank you very much.

And when he called back, the conversation went a little something like this:

Yahoo Customer Service Tech Support Guy (heretofore known as YCSTSG): "Hello, how may I help you?"

Kristie (heretofore known as person who should leave well enough alone when it comes to her computer): "Yes, I have a question about a web hosting upgrade I purchased last night ...."

YCSTSG: "Yes, go ahead ..."

K: "OK, so. I have a Geocities Plus account that works great, but I was exceeding my data transfer usage on a regular basis, so last night I followed the prompts to get unlimited usage by upgrading. But when I checked my Geocities account just now, it's still showing I'm about to exceed my limit. Why wasn't my account credited?"

YCSTSG: "That's because your new upgrade site, with unlimited storage and unlimited transfer -- congratulations, that's awesome! -- is separate from your Geocities account. In fact, we've phased out the free Geocities accounts, so this is definitely the way to go."

K: "But my Geocities account wasn't free, it was a paid service. I don't want to *change* it, I just want to expand it."

YCSTSG: "I'm sorry, that's not an option. You have a new site now and will need to store your photos there."

K: "Ok, so what about the two freaking THOUSAND pictures I have stored at my old Geocities site? What happens to them?"

YCSTSG: "Well, eventually, they'll disappear. So I recommend transferring them all to your new site."

K: "Hmmmm. OK, let me think this through for a minute, since I'm not really as tech-savvy as you ...."

YCSTSG (appreciative chuckle)

K: "If I transfer the photos to a new site, the url for each picture will be different, no?"

YCSTSG: "Yes, but you have UNLIMITED storage so it doesn't matter!"

K: "But! It DOES matter! Because if each of these two thousand photos is coded or embedded or whatever you call it in my personal blog with a url link to the OLD site, won't every photo in my blog disappear when the address changes? Turn into a little red x permanently?"

YCSTSG: "Well, yes, there is a chance that will happen. Or you could just go back and change the addresses in your old blog entries."

K: (starting to feel a bit of panic now) "No, that's not an option. There are two thousand of them --- I can't possibly go back through five YEARS worth of entries, line by line, changing url addresses for two thousand pictures ..... "

YCSTSG: "May I access your Geocities account?"

K: "Of couse."

YCSTSG: "It looks here like there are only 1,756 files, so not quite 2,000 ..... plus there is a chance the old address might still work after you transfer them over, if your new account links to your old account. That seems to happen sometimes."

K: "So technically not 2,000 EXACTLY, thank you Mr. Less Than More Than, but still. I'm not doing it, or taking the chance they won't transfer over. Cancel my upgrade, please, and leave me at my old level of usage. I'll just risk going over sometimes."

YCSTSG: "Weeeeeelllll, here's the problem. Once you've upgraded, if you decide to cancel and go back, you'll only get the Geocities Free version, and your pictures will be gone."

K: "But I didn't have the free version, I had a paid version."

YCSTSG: "Yes, but you'd have to go back to free, then start over with a different upgrade, and none of your photos would be saved."

K (seriously, getting panicked right about now): "But they're right there, I can still see them in my account!"

YCSTSG: "Yes, but if I cancel your web host upgrade, you will lose everything."

K: "So let me make sure I'm understanding this. Because I upgraded and got a new site, none of my old addresses are any good anymore, and *possibly* my photo-links, all 1,756 of them, will no longer work. But if I *cancel* that upgrade, which I ONLY bought in an effort to fix this minor problem, I definitely lose all my photos, am I understanding this right? I will lose FIVE AND A HALF YEARS WORTH OF PHOTOS, ARE YOU KIDDING ME????!!!!"

YCSTSG, finally beginning to see the light: "Yes, I see what you're saying, but that's right."

K (near hysteria): "And so now the only way to fix my NEW problem, which, again, I only have because I was attempting to correct a teeny tiny minor problem, why the hell couldn't I leave well enough alone, is to transfer my photos to my new site and then manually change 2,000 addresses, one at a time???? Is that what you're saying to me???? So basically I just screwed myself, didn't I? I tried to do a simple, good thing, and buy a little more transfer, and it completely backfired and now THERE'S NO WAY ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH TO SIMPLY REWIND AND GO BACK TO THE WAY THINGS WERE?!?!?!?!?!"

YCSTSG: "Um, well, that's correct. But the good news is you have unlimited storage and usage now!"

At which point, I am embarrassed to say, I burst into tears on the phone and the poor man had to wait for me to compose myself, tissues and nose-blowing and all.

He tried to reassure me that because my photos were still showing up yesterday, even after my new site was up and running, that was a good sign that maybe they did actually link over (although he made no promises what might happen come the end of the month when my old account expires ....) Then he tried to walk me through downloading a free file transfer program so I could easily transfer the photos over -- but it didn't work. So while he was on the phone with me, I searched high and low to disable my firewall, hoping that was why it didn't work. And then even after I disabled my firewall the file transfer program STILL wouldn't work --- and at this point I had been on the phone for over half an hour, and I started crying again.

Because, DUDE. I realize this blog, and Kendrie's Caringbridge site, aren't exactly Noble Prize worthy literature. I acknowledge they're not going to set the world on fire, and that starving tree monkeys in the freaking rain forest could care less .... But they're MINE. And I'm conceited enough to be proud of them, and vain enough to acknowledge that throughout the past five and a half years, I have spent a LOT of time uploading, resizing, uploading again, and linking all 1,756 photos, to share with everyone who so kindly comes here to read.

I. CANNOT. BEAR. THE. THOUGHT. OF. LOSING. THEM. PERMANENTLY.

Of course I wouldn't lose the photos themselves, I have everything backed up on CD. But anyone clicking ANY previous journal entry, beginning from day one in November, 2003, until yesterday, including ME, will not see a single picture, unless his "maybe, hopefully they'll link over" prediction comes true. I feel as if one of the most important aspects of the blog (or at least one of the parts that is the most special to me) the photo-journey of Kendrie through her leukemia treatment, and the photos chronicling of the past five years of my children's childhood, will be ..... gone, just gone. The entire blog will be ruined, in my eyes, with those photos gone.

So then I started crying a little more.

First it was that quiet, frustrated, suffering in silence kind of crying so the person on the other end of the phone doesn't know. But he was asking me questions, about did I have another firewall, and had I considered just starting over with a new blog, and how really, the unlimited storage and transfer was great, and maybe it wouldn't be as bad as I thought .... Honestly, I couldn't even answer him I was so upset. So then he thought I must have hung up (or perhaps laid the phone down in order to go somewhere and slit my damn wrists) and he was all, "Hello, hello? Are you there?!?!"

Ultimately, he felt sorry for my sniveling self, because I could NOT get the transfer program to work, no matter how many different things he told me to try, so he offered to do the entire thing for me remotely, right then and there. So I let him, even though it took another half an hour on the phone. Also, knowing full well that although having the photos on the new site is a step in the right direction, it's still not going to alleviate the problem when the old site is shut down and none of the addresses work anymore.

And I'm sorry this is so technical and boring to anyone who doesn't understand what I'm talking about, although really, those people probably quit reading thirty minutes ago because seriously, nobody gives a shit except me, so if you're still reading this AT ALL, thank you for indulging my techno freak out temper tantrum.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go look at those pictures of Brayden some more. Because I have a sinking feeling they will vanish when my month is over, along with every other picture I've ever put on this blog.

Then I'm going to go pout about it some more.

Computers suck.

The end.

Let's blame Yahoo, shall we?

I was all set to update a fascinating, scintillating, high-energy masterpiece** tonight, complete with photos, as I am sure so many of you are waiting with baited breath to hear about the latest exciting escapades of our family. Or not.

But when I tried to upload my photos to my server, I got a notice that Geocities, the Yahoo server where I store my photos, is "down" for some site maintenance and won't be back up for several hours.

So I figure I have a few options:

1. Post the blog entry without the photos. Really, not a good idea because the entire post consists of two pictures and two sentences, so if you take away the pictures you only have the sentences which wouldn't even make any sense without the photos, because then people would just be wondering why did I have these two random sentences and what do they even mean and is Kristie going insane or just not making sense like she always/never does much like this explanation doesn't make sense either but don't blame me I ate too many Milk Duds tonight and am suffering from sugar poisoning.

2. Wait up a few hours, eating more Milk Duds all the while, for the site maintenance to finish, and then go ahead and start typi ......... zzzzzzz .zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzng. (snore)

3. Blather on in this nonsensical manner and hope it counts as a post. Or as a blog fart, to quote one of my newest favorite bloggers.

In the end, my fluffy pillow and comfy bed won out.

Good night!!

**You know I'm kidding right? Unless you count photos of my daughter's orthodontic headgear as fascinating, or stories about me puking green beer on St. Patricks day scintillating.

Wait. Is "scintillating" a dirty word???

Seriously urgently massively important

OK, so basically it's a computer question, but I had to get your attention somehow, didn't I?

I've got an e-mail in to Shawn, "my computer guy" (basically, I just like to say "my computer guy" a lot for my own sense of self-importance ....) but maybe one of you Peoples of the Internet can help me and then I can quit bugging him which Lord knows he will be happy about ....

My new computer came with Windows Vista. My old computer ran Windows XP. Everything is fine, I love how its running, yadda yadda .... but the Autoplay feature for importing photos in Vista is a disaster. With XP, you could select which pictures to import, then label them and put them in a specific folder ... then press the back prompt and do another set of pictures. This worked GREAT for when you've taken pictures of more than one event on the same card before importing. I label my photos with the date and event name -- for example, "March 2009 Amusement Park". Then, I always know where to find photos on my computer, and this information prints on the back of the pictures, which is helpful as well. Lets say you've got several events on one card, ie, pictures of a birthday party, then pictures of a soccer game, then pictures of an afternoon at the zoo --- all these different events could be saved and labeled separately. It was super-easy to get them all sorted out and saved appropriately, life was good, God save the Queen, whatever.

With Windows Vista, however, the import default is "Import ALL photos", regardless of what they are. There is no way to sort or view before saving. They all get lumped into one folder. So then after they are all imported to the same folder, you have to go in and cut and paste them all into different folders, AND you have to re-name every photo (if you are as anal as I am, anyway.)

Seriously, I despise this feature with the intensity of a thousand burning suns. I spent close to three hours online yesterday looking for a solution. I found PLENTY of other Vista users complaining in chat boards about the same thing, but no solutions. I entered a live chat with a customer service rep who kept calling me "Kritine" and repeatedly assuring me that this "new and improved" way was actually an improvement and that I would grow to love it. Um, no. I won't. It is a pain in my ass and I hate it as much as I hate people who can't spell my name .... I'm looking at you, mr. live chat ...

So!! Does anyone out there know what I'm talking about? Anyone else gone from XP to Vista and discovered how much this stinks? Or better yet, discovered a way around it? Is it even feasible to consider downgrading my new computer from Vista back to XP? (Heck, I don't even know if that's possible, but it is TOTALLY the kind of cut-my-nose-off-to-spite-my-face mentality that I have .....)

And please, no suggestions in the comments about how I should have bought a Mac. Considering I have a brand-new pc sitting on my desk, that's actually not a helpful suggestion.

Ps. Oh, by the way. Blaine starts radiation today. Is it wrong that I'm more upset about the photo feature than that???

SPT Challenge March 17

Self-Portrait Challenge for March as per Lelly's Musings is to follow a "Crazy Eight" theme --- the only rule is the self-portrait must have the number eight in it. Otherwise, no rules.

You'd be surprised how difficult this is. Thank goodness the month is three-fifths over, is all I'm saying.

My photo for today:



You'll notice that my new computer has "8" something-or-nother of memory. Or hard-drive space. (Is that the same thing???)



And the reason for the new computer?

This:


Yep, I am the proud new owner of a full-blown version of Photoshop CS4. Which means this is TOTALLY turning into a photo blog, and I'm going to force you guys to look at tweaked and edited and manipulated photos of my children from now until eternity.

Well, I would, if I could figure out how to work the damn program. I *might* have a little too much horse-power under my belt, if you know what I mean. And I think you do.

See, its just like I was telling Shawn, my computer guy. (How fun is that? To be able to say you have a computer guy of your very own?) Thank goodness I moved here and made friends with someone whose husband is totally computer savvy and literate and allows himself to be hired out for computer work. Because I can barely find my computer CHAIR half the time, let alone figure out how to do all this other stuff like actually make things WORK as they should. Any repair beyond pushing the on/off button is pretty much beyond me.

So what was I telling Shawn? Oh, yeah. I was telling him that I think people my age got the short stick with regard to computers. We didn't learn anything about them in school because they weren't commonplace yet. For goodness sake, I didn't even take "keyboarding" ... let alone any kind of basic computer course. I took freaking TYPING, for heaven's sake, with white out and typewriter ribbons that had to be replaced and CARBON PAPER FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. Does anyone under the age of 35 even know what carbon paper IS?!?!?!?! I remember the one, single, solitary boy in my high school graduating class who enjoyed computers and drove around with an Apple bumper sticker on his car. he spoke in computer-ese and tried telling us computers were the wave of the future and how they would revolutionize our lives. We all totally made fun of him.

Who's laughing now???

So computers, or anything about them, wasn't taught when I was in school because I'm too old. But I'm still young enough that people assume I know how to do things on them. I mean my mom, yeah, she's in her 60's, so she gets a free pass when it comes to computers. She's allowed to call me and ask me to come over and help her set up her e-mail account or change her password or hook up a printer .... because I'm expected to know all that, and more. People my age are still expected to know the tricky stuff --- Like how to set up a new hard drive and transfer all my e-mail accounts and programs and favorites and documents over and download new drivers for the accessories and blahblahblah my ears are bleeding. Because I don't know how to do ANY of that.

In the first twelve hours after Shawn set up my new hard drive and connected my new keyboard (best money I ever spent, except maybe for Lasik, but I digress ...) the following happened:

1. The printer software took forever to load. Then there was a fatal error. Not a serious error. Not a grave error. A FATAL error. What the hell does that even mean??? I managed to fix it by starting over with the software that came with the printer.

2. The monitor wouldn't come on the next day. As in, it was working fine when I went to bed, and was a black screen of death the next morning. Blaine (prompted by a virulent stream of cursing from me .... so bad, in fact, that it even required an apology from me to my children) managed to fix it by using the highly-skilled technical maneuver of "jiggling the wires." He might not be as tech-savvy as Shawn, but at least he can jiggle the damn wires.

3. Half of my installed desktop short cuts didn't work, half the time. Shawn steered me towards the Google search that led me to do something, some kind of reset or something ..... I have no idea. Whatever it was, I did it and now they all work.

4. My screen saver no longer worked. I managed to google the answer to this myself, and discovered the screen saver in Windows Vista is not compatible with a wireless device (my mouse) unless you download and install an *optional* update from the Windows site. What-the-hell-ever, all I care about is that I did it and now it works.

5. I totally cannot figure out the new way Windows is importing my photos and have double folders showing up everywhere, so it's probably just as good I have 8 gig/bytes/ram/whatever of memory because at the rate I'm going, it will be full of photos in a few weeks anyway.

Seriously.

I was born in the wrong era. I should have been an adult in the 1950's. Because I could ROCK THE SHIT out of white out and carbon paper.

Basic Math

New hard drive + trying to get everything set up just the way I like it + having to reinstall programs + did you really think, given my total and complete lack of technical prowess, that it would all go smoothly for me? = not a lot of time to blog this week.

Thanks for being patient.

Facebook

I struggle to find time to update this blog. I haven't scrapbooked in months. My house is in disarray, I haven't put up the Halloween decorations yet, my library books are overdue and not yet read, and the laundry piles are about to overtake the family.

So what's a smart time-management strategy?

Why, join Facebook, of course.

And spend hours looking for old military friends, old co-workers, and people I haven't talked to since elementary school.

What a time-suck.

(sigh)

But guess what? I found the boy everyone had a crush on at 7th grade church camp!! (and no, I did *not* send him a friends request.)

Pass the Kerosene Lantern, Please

Yesterday, when the Cox guy came to set up my computer (can you hear the angels singing?) we discovered there was no phone jack in the office. I hate technology.

He said he could install one, but it would cost us an extra $55.00. I hate expensive technology.

Late last night after everyone else was in bed, I unpacked all the computer components and did my best to hook everything back up (bearing in mind I was NOT the person who unhooked the stuff in Georgia and had no idea which wires went to which thing.) I hate technological work.

Naturally, both the keyboard and the mouse did not work. I hate technology even more.

Then I realized the instruction manual to the computer was packed in a separate box, but good guess as to which one, piled up all the way to the ceiling ..... so I gave up and went to bed, having technological nightmares all night, with visions of ten days worth of unopened e-mail taunting me.

I got up this morning, and discovered both the keyboard and the mouse, which weren't working last night, and to which I had done NOTHING in between, were now working fine. Have I mentioned I hate technology?

Got ready to try and access my e-mail, only to lose power in the entire house. Called the electric company, who didn't technically confess they had turned power off instead of transferring the account, but I have my suspicions. They agreed to send someone out to turn it back on, and we commenced unpacking in the dark. At this point, I told Blaine life would be easier a hundred years ago, without all this electronic, high-powered, high-speed, high-voltage, breaker box stuff to worry about.

Thirty minutes later, with the temperature in the house falling rapidly, I confessed that I wouldn't like to live in the Dark Ages after all, and was very grateful when the electric guy showed up.

AT LONG LAST, computer was up, connected, working, and ready for me to change my e-mail server to the OKC Cox center from the Middle GA Cox Center.

This was the point where I discovered that despite what I was told in Georgia about having 30 days to keep my account and e-mail, despite the fact it is Cox Communications in both states, despite the fact we can PUT A MAN ON THE FUCKING MOON, that it is NOT POSSIBLE for them to transfer e-mail, or for me to receive any of the e-mails that have been sent to me the past ten days.

That in order to turn ON my Oklahoma e-mail account, they have to turn OFF the Georgia account, and when that happens, all e-mails on the server, approximately 1200 by my estimate, will be automatically deleted.

That was the point where my head spun around and monkeys flew out of my ass, because it was only 10 am and it was the second time TODAY that a customer service person had said to me, in so many words, "Too bad, so sad."

SO!

If you have e-mailed me in the past ten days, I did not, and will not, receive it. Please read the following instructions:

1. If you are a friend and e-mailed me personally, please send it again.
1 1/2. If you are a stranger and e-mailed me personally, please send it again.
2. If you are one of my online bills, I promise, the check is in the mail. Er, the internet.
3. If you are any of the occasional spam mail I get, which thankfully isn't too often, take a hike anyway.
4. If you are any of the online retailers who e-mail me, I'm hoping I've been deleted from your address book because you people reproduce like bacteria on wet bread.
5. Someone from my leukemia parents list, please bring me up to speed on how everyone is doing.
6. Someone from my surrogacy list, please bring me up to speed on how everyone is doing.
7. Someone from my scrapbooking list, please bring me up to speed on how everyone is doing.
8. Logan from the OKC Cox technical support team, thank you for explaining it to me and have a very nice day. You were efficient and helpful and kind, and I appreciate that you agreed with me that the entire situation blew.
9. Tanya from the Middle GA technical support team, you need a serious in-service on customer support. When I told you not to talk to me like I was stupid, I meant it. You almost ruined my morning with your snippy little attitude. You will get coal in your stocking.

I hate technology. But I liked Logan.

Clone. Because really, there should be two of me, so I'll have two mouths to stick my feet in.

As per Websters: Clone -- “a thing that duplicates another in purpose” meaning when I paid for the computer guy to clone my old hard drive to my new hard drive, I just assumed it would *be* the same, and work the same. How silly of me.

Somewhat embarrassing: Having to return to the computer store and ask for a replacement power cord since I left mine lying there on a table when I dropped the hard drive off. In an attempt to cover my moron-ness as they handed me a new cord, smiling cheerfully and saying, “The clone is working great! I mean, ummm, I’m sure it will once I can plug the thing in! Thanks!” and then slinking out the door because hmmm, should I have offered to pay for this cord?

Somewhat more embarrassing: Trying to use my disc-burning software for the first time today since getting the machine back and discovering it doesn’t work ---- and having to call the store and confess that I have no earthly idea why it’s not working and that I thought “cloning” meant exactly the same and if the software worked last week shouldn’t it work now? If it is, indeed, exactly the same? Still, smiling cheerfully over the phone.

Somewhat even more embarrassing: Having to call back -- again -- and tell the tech support guy that his first suggestion didn’t take care of the problem, can he recommend anything else? Anything at all? Because seriously, this cloned version does not appear to be the same. Maybe I do not understand the meaning of the word “clone”. Smiling weakly through the phone line, wonder if it’s not perhaps time for some kind of adult ed computer class.

More embarrassing, still: OK, you know what? This phone crap isn’t cutting it. So getting in your car to drive to the store to talk to these people in person, and explaining to them that YES, you downloaded the most recent update of the software, exactly like they suggested, but you still don’t understand why that matters because the old version worked last week, and this is supposed to be a clone, why do you people not understand that??? Clone means the same!! At which point the tech support guy asks you if you’re positive you actually installed the update after you downloaded it. Hmmmm. Is that step important? This time, as you walk out the store, there is no cheerful waving or smiling, although you are pretty sure you heard smirking behind your back, at your expense. Consider stealing another power cord just to get even.

Most embarrassing of all: Loading up the computer and dragging it back to the store, flouncing in a bit of a huff, because you have done everything, EVERYTHING, you can think of to do, and if those people are so damn smart they can just fix it themselves. Only to have the tech support lady hook up the hard drive and start messing around with the software herself, and discover that yes, it really is dinked up and doesn’t work for her, either, no matter what she does. Feel somewhat vindicated, then begin to worry and wonder what ELSE about this clone is not exactly clone-ish. I mean, you paid a lot of money for the cloning and it should be EXACTLY THE SAME and it obviously is not, so what else is wrong?

That’s about when you notice her scrolling through your C drive, and there are all kinds of folders you have never seen before on there ….. folders with the names of musical artists on them, some artists you know and some you don’t, and you are hit with the realization that somehow, someone, some way, loaded a bunch of stuff to your computer and obviously -- duh! -- that is why it is not working in a clone-like manner. So in an attempt to point out that NONE of this is your fault, you launch the following comment: “See? What’s all that there? All those folders on my hard drive? Those aren’t mine -- I don’t listen to that crap --- I don’t even LIKE 50 Cent! You sure as heck didn’t clone THAT off my hard drive! I mean, that is NOT mine and I’m not taking the blame for this!” At which point the tech turns to you and says out loud …. “That music is mine. I have my thumb drive hooked up to your computer and those are my files.”

Oh, yes. Well, of course it is.

Sooooo, extra power cord, anyone?

MAYBE CHANGING, MAYBE NOT

He said: You were up awfully late last night.
I heard: What the hell were you doing on the computer until all wee hours of the morning?

He said: Really? A new web site? That sounds exciting.
I heard: Oh, great. Another freakin’ techno-geek project that she’s not going to be able to figure out and then I’ll have to listen to her bitch and moan about how it’s not working and how she despises technology but can’t live without it and I’ll have to pretend to be all sympathetic and act like I really care when really I'd rather puncture my own ear drums with dull butter knives.

He said: Well, if you like Caringbridge, why not just stay there?
I heard: Oh, for Pete’s sake, if it’s not broken, don’t fix it!

He said: Well, I can understand why you might feel that way, now that Kendrie is done with her treatment.
I heard: What? *MY* cancer experience isn’t worthy of Caringbridge to you?

He said: No, actually, I can’t think of anyone in the tech support department at work who might know about setting up a personal blog.
I heard: Blogger? WordPress? Typepad? You have not a single clue what you’re doing, woman, and don’t even try to drag my innocent, technologically-superior co-workers into the mess you are about to make.

He said: Do you think people would read a new blog?
I heard: What on earth makes you think anyone gives a flying rats ass about what you have to say?

He said: Well, I’m sure you’ll get it all figured out.
I heard: This conversation is boring me. Move on.

***This is why you should never attempt a logical conversation with your husband when you are already annoyed at him for some reason you totally can’t remember, but which you know was COMPLETELY his fault.

"A YEAR OF UPS AND DOWNS, THAT’S FOR SURE!"

(or) The one-year anniversary of the beginning of the suckfest (It’s not a roller coaster; it’s more like a see-saw. On the playground in Hades.)

ONE YEAR AGO TODAY:

This date, one year ago, found us on day #3 in the Macon Children’s Hospital; diagnosis: anemia (question mark?). Kendrie, despite having several transfusions on Saturday and Sunday, wasn’t bouncing back the way the doctors thought she should. So, although it was Columbus Day, a holiday, they were scheduling her for a bone marrow aspiration (is it ever really a holiday in a hospital?) The specialist had been called in and was the one requesting the aspiration ….. “to find out what is going on with her bone marrow.”

I feel like such an idiot, when I think back and realize how clueless we were. Although in my heart I was worried it might be something serious, the word “cancer” had not been mentioned aloud, so I wasn’t letting it infiltrate my head, either. What was it, exactly, that I thought they would find out???? The days in PICU had passed in a sort of surreal denial, as we sat back and waited for the magical, easy diagnosis. Surely they would send us home with some band-aids and a bottle of multi-vitamins. My child was loved, immunized, breastfed, and well taken care of. How could there be anything wrong with her?

In hindsight, I assume the doctor must have known what was going on, or at the very least suspected it, but he never said it in front of us. Is that better, or worse? Who knows, maybe he was hoping to protect us. They took her for the bone marrow aspiration, and were in the room much, much longer than they told us they would be. When he finally came out, he sat down and explained that her marrow was packed so tightly that despite sticking her in three separate locations, they simply couldn’t draw out enough marrow to test, so they had to resort to a bone biopsy … a test where they actually shave off a piece of her hip bone to test it.

I remember thinking “oh, well, that’s ok, right?”

Knowing what I know now, I believe that sometimes, ignorance is bliss. Otherwise, I would have been terrified, realizing that packed bone marrow is an indication of a serious problem. I would have been upset that she was stuck so many times, and livid that she had a biopsy done without general anesthesia. Instead, when the doctor told me he would have the results in a couple of hours, I cheerfully said ok, and tag-teamed with Blaine, leaving him with her in the hospital, while I headed home for a shower. Good heavens, I was naïve. How could I have been that naïve?

Blaine called later and told me the doctor wanted me there, so he could discuss the results with us in person. Uh oh, red flag number one. I think deep down I was starting to suspect at this point. I remember driving back to the hospital, but not rushing. Delaying the inevitable, perhaps? When I arrived, the nurse called the doctor and he asked us both to step into a private room. We had all three kids there, so Blaine stayed with them in Kendrie’s room while I followed the doctor next door. The nurse followed me and shut the door behind us. Oh God, this must be serious.

He was kind; he was gentle. Put his heavy hand on my shoulder and said, “I’m so sorry. It’s leukemia.” I had a sort of slow-motion crumbling on the inside. “I knew you were going to say that” came from my lips, although I didn’t know. I guess deep down, I did. I cried, I pulled myself together, and cried again when Blaine came in the room. The doctor kept saying, “She’ll be ok; she’ll be ok” and patting my shoulder. It wasn’t until several days later, frantically reading a copy of Nancy Keene’s book “Childhood Leukemia” that I would discover the statistics -- that 80 to 85 percent of kids with this type of leukemia survive. I appreciated the doctor’s kindness; I just wish he had told me that at the beginning. I spent three mind-numbing, terrifying days, believing my daughter was dying.

And so began our journey. A frantic call to my mother, who dropped everything to fly to Georgia and take care of Brayden and Kellen so Blaine and I could both go with Kendrie to the hospital. Another ambulance ride, this one up to Atlanta to get Kendrie settled in at Scottish Rite. Walking through the doors marked “AFLAC Cancer Center” and thinking, “Wait, we don’t belong here!”. Seeing a bald child for the first time and feeling like I’d been punched in the stomach. The dread I felt every time a nurse or technician came through the door to draw blood. Trying to absorb as much medical information as possible, as quickly as possible. How can you ask intelligent questions if you don’t know what to ask?

Learning protocols, what counts meant, what kinds of chemo and medications were to be taken when … and how … and with what expected side effects. Sleeping, sort of, on a fold out sofa-bed (which was better than the chair I had slept in the first few nights) but only sleeping with one eye closed -- the other eye watching the monitors, listening for the beeps and bells and alarms, and desperately alert for the four-year old in the bed next to me who could no longer walk to the bathroom and had to be carried, dragging the iv pole behind us, five and six times a night. Surgery, shots, battles of will over oral medications. Dealing with a child who withdrew completely in a matter of days.

Two weeks in the hospital, and then the combination of happiness and sheer terror when we realized they were letting us go home --- and expecting us to take on the responsibility of her care. I likened it to taking home a newborn, only without the excitement and happy anticipation. We were petrified we would mess up her medications (there were about seventy, at that point, is what it felt like!) or not catch a fever in time, or know what to do if something went wrong, or be able to protect her from the millions of germs that were hovering, waiting to pounce. Please, we want to go home to our other children. Please, can’t we just stay here and let the nurses take care of her a little longer?

But we did it. And she survived. And so did we. In fact, things even got better as time progressed (a concept we had doubted at the beginning!) Sure, we still had that early morning, first-thing-when-you-open-your-eyes-that-still-burn-from-crying-at-night rush of nausea-inducing emotion --- “What’s wrong? What isn’t normal?” and then, “Oh, yeah. Kendrie has cancer.” In fact, even a year later, I still wake up like that sometimes. But for the most part, we’ve accepted our “new normal” and moved on.

Kendrie has hair. In fact, she told me tonight she wants to shave it off so I don’t have to start brushing it.

We’ve had a few low-points; the nausea, aches and pains, steroid tantrums, low counts and a couple of transfusions. People that we thought we could rely on, and who would come through for us, who haven't. But we’ve had lots of high-points as well; she’s done remarkably well on treatment, hasn’t been admitted to the hospital since diagnosis, has maintained her weight and her energy level, the majority of the time. People we never imagined, who have come out of the woodwork to help us. The outpouring of love and support we have received from the majority of our friends, family, and even total strangers we have met on this journey (all of which we will be forever thankful for.) Our military insurance has been a Godsend. I love our doctors and nurses in Atlanta; I hate driving to Atlanta. We only have fourteen months of chemotherapy left! Good grief, we still have fourteen months of chemotherapy left.

Yes, it’s been a year of ups and downs. Much like the see-saw that is childhood cancer. Thank you for letting me share it with you.



TODAY:

OK, how stinkin’ cool is this???? On today, the one-year anniversary of Kendrie’s diagnosis, we officially received our 100,000th hit on her Caringbridge site!! I have to say …. Absolutely perfect timing! And the 100,000th visitor to the site today, was (drum roll, please) Tracey from Bears Who Care in Calgary!! You need to go back through the guestbook yesterday and today to read her funny messages --- she was pretty determined to hit the magic number and she did it! Tracey has been a regular visitor to our site for quite some time, and is a co-founder of BEARS WHO CARE -- "a group of Canadian folks who care about sick children. We offer support, encouragement and smiles to critically ill children all over Canada, through our guestbook support and 'happy mail'. For those of us with healthy children, this is our way of 'giving back', for those of us with sick children, this is a way to show support to our fellow parents and to be a part of a caring community." Tracey, and all the Bears Who Care, make the time to visit lots of other CB sites as well, spreading a little sunshine and cheer to many, many kids, so I am happy to make a donation to Caringbridge in her honor. Tracey, thank you for being a supporter of our site!

The reason the timing of the 100,000th visitor and all the nice messages was so perfect, well, I’ll be honest with you guys and admit (even to myself, I suppose) that I was a little more whacked out by today than I thought I would be. I mean, just what significance does a one-year anniversary date hold for a leukemia patient? And why should today make me any crazier than normal?

Another mom on my ALL-Support Group List, Nicky’s mom Kim, recently posted these words of wisdom when another child on the list hit their one-year anniversary:

“What do you say, ‘Congrats on the one-year anniversary of being diagnosed with leukemia?’ How about, instead, ‘Congrats for making the best out of a difficult time, for learning what unconditional love truly means, for doing things that would probably get you past a couple of classes in nursing school, heck, even medical school, and for making a difference with your family’s pro-active involvement in TNT and other causes.’ “

I thought today would be another normal day, another step towards the finish line; a milestone of sorts, but certainly not an emotional one. I was wrong. I woke up today, glad that Kendrie felt good enough to go to school after coming home yesterday, feeling crummy from the steroids. I woke up feeling blessed and giving thanks that she is still in remission. I woke up thinking how much better our situation is at this exact time this year as opposed to last.

I’ll spare you the boring details, but an in-home computer service technician has, for the most part, turned my computer into a boat anchor. I won’t even go into the incompetence (on his part) or the frustration (on mine) but today, when I realized nothing he said he had fixed was working ……………………. and a Caringbridge update, on today of all days, wasn’t going to happen ………….. I sat in my van in the parking lot at my hairdressers and cried for five solid minutes.

Now, if you know me, you’ll know that I’m not a crier, so that was a pretty unusual event, all in itself. And the fact that I was scaring away potential clients, who must have assumed I was really, REALLY unhappy with my new highlights, over something as unimportant as a computer glitch (although if I ever catch that Bill-Gates-wannabe in a dark alley I swear I will strangle him with a USB cord for all the havoc he has unnecessarily wreaked on my system!) --- suddenly it occurred to me that maybe I was a little more emotional about this day than I thought I was. Who did I think I was kidding? I’ve sat back for the past two weeks, focusing on this day, and telling myself (apparently unconvincingly) that it was no big deal.

But it IS a big deal. 365 days ago, we were told our daughter had cancer. At that time, looking ahead seemed impossible. We were worried about getting through each day, each hour, let alone where we would be in a year. Now, we’re here. Fifty-two weeks of chemotherapy down, fifty weeks of remission. Sixty weeks of chemotherapy to go. We are ecstatic; we are terrified. Do you understand why I’m a certified head case???

So thanks for all the messages the past few days, as we edged our way towards the 100,000 mark and the anniversary date. Your notes of encouragement, all of them, from the very beginning through the past few days, have done much to sustain us through the past year. I’ve said all along that this journal is the only thing keeping me “off the couch” and I really, truly, sincerely appreciate so many of you taking the time to check in and offer your support.

(Thanks also to my girlfriend Kelly for talking me down off the computer ledge today, and to my girlfriend Andrea’s husband, Wonder-Bob, so named for his computer genius, who talked me through the stupid re-installation(s) to make this update possible.)

Love, Kristie