Ideas, please?

I'm hoping that someone out there can give me some ideas about what might be going on with my home network so that I will know which tech support to call and won't look like a total goofus when I do. 

First, you must promise not to laugh at my lack of tech-savvy. Yeah, I have a blog. That means nothing thanks to the Blogger wizards. And I use a Mac, which means I really don't have a "need to know."

I have a DSL/broadband modem, courtesy of Verizon and use an Airport Extreme base station for wireless. 

My computer shows that I am connected with a lovely signal.  All the lights shine correctly on both modem and router.  

But I can't connect to the 'net.  Random sessions of restarting, fidgeting, unplugging/replugging everything will reestablish connection for a few hours, then nothing.

I've been crouching in the corner of the upstairs guest room swiping my neighbor's signal for weeks now. Tonight I finally dug out the Sprint USB modem I use in Oregon and installed it on the new Miss Mac so I can roam freely 'round the abode.

So, my technical superiors, do you think the problem lies in the modem or the router? Do I call Verizon or Apple? Do I disconnect with Verizon altogether and  just use the USB modem since I'm paying through the wazoo for it, anyway? But if I do that, then I can't buy the groovy new Time Machine I have my eye on.

I'm hoping for a veritable storm of comments.

I Don't Sleep, I Dream

As promised, here’s a meme to tide you over during my paralytic hiatus. I resist memes, because I worry that readers will consider me the bloggic version of an email chain letter about angels or something. I stole this one from Molly, though, because her version was so damned entertaining; mine isn't, so much.

I’ve tried to complete it about five times, most recently a week ago. It was oh so hard not to cheat and move things around and redo it five or six times like a monkey in a room with a typewriter trying to replicate Faulkner's novels. Nothing like a procrastinating writer.   Yesterday, I forced myself to work with the most recent version, painstakingly looking up lyrics and excerpting the most poignant snippets. Then I thought, "What a barf-worthy load of crap."

F*uck it, it’s a meme, what?

I have happy music on my iPod, too! I am not suicidal, nor am I on the brink of divorce (that I know of). But it was kind of a glum day when I created that list. And the songs reinforced my moody blues, although none of them were by that band. Who needs that?

So I switched from my iPod to “Party Shuffle” in iTunes and decided to leave the analysis up to you. You’ll find some odd stuff here, at least one song I haven’t ever heard, covers by odd singers, and more Elvis Costello than you might expect. And returning readers know that I am married and have a child, rendering those questions ambiguous, at best.

Wanna play? Here are the rules... Please let me know if you decide to participate. I am tagging Lori, What I Saw Today, and Old Roman Symbol. You’re It! Or should it be “You All Are Them”?

1. Put your music player on shuffle. 

2. Press forward with each question. 

3. Use the song title as the answer to the question - EVEN if it doesn't make any sense whatsoever - NO CHEATING!!!

For each question, I’ve included the song title and artist that iTunes belched up as a "response." Make of this what you will.

HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY? 
 “Burned” Neil Young

WHAT'S YOUR OUTLOOK ON LIFE?
 “Fallen” k.d. lang

WHAT DOES YOUR FAMILY THINK OF YOU? “Atomic” Blondie

WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU “Goin’ Nowhere” Chris Isaak

WHAT DO STRANGERS THINK OF YOU?
 “Your Smilin’ Face” James Taylor

WHAT DO YOUR EXES THINK OF YOU?
 “Like an Angel Passing Through” Anne Sofie von Otter and Elvis Costello

HOW IS YOUR LOVE LIFE? “The Sire of Sorrow (Job’s Sad Song)” Joni Mitchell

HOW WILL YOUR LOVE LIFE BE IN THE FUTURE?
 “Shower the People” James Taylor

WILL YOU GET MARRIED? “Coming Back to You” Jennifer Warnes

WILL YOU HAVE KIDS?
”Lonely Girls” Lucinda Williams

ARE YOU GOOD AT SCHOOL? “I Wanna Be Loved” Elvis Costello and the Attractions

WILL YOU BE SUCCESSFUL IN LIFE? “On Your Shore” Charlotte Martin

WHAT SONGS SHOULD THEY PLAY ON YOUR BIRTHDAY? 
 “Whatever It Is” Drew Phelps

WHAT SONG SHOULD THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL? “Joy to the World” Three Dog Night

THE SOUNDTRACK OF YOUR LIFE? “All I Want is You” U2

YOU AND YOUR BEST FRIEND ARE ...? “Heart Full of Holes” Mark Knopfler

HAPPY TIMES?
”She” Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians

SAD TIMES? “Compensation” Nina Simone

EVERYDAY? “Mommy Daddy You and I” Talking Heads

FOR TOMORROW? “Flutter and Wow” Elvis Costello

FOR YOU? “Getting to Know You” James Taylor

WHAT DOES NEXT YEAR HAVE IN STORE FOR ME?  “So Long Marianne” Leonard Cohen

WHAT DO I SAY WHEN LIFE GETS HARD? “L.A. Freeway” Jerry Jeff Walker

WHAT SONG WILL I DANCE TO AT MY WEDDING? “Red Dirt Girl” Emmylou Harris

WHAT DO YOU WANT AS A CAREER?
 “Tragedy” Emmylou Harris

YOUR FAVORITE SAYING?
 “Peace in Our Time” Elvis Costello and the Attractions

THE SONG YOU WILL PUT AS YOUR SUBJECT? “I Don’t Sleep, I Dream” R.E.M. (Full disclosure: this is the only place I cheated. “Pieces of April” by Three Dog Night came up, but who would read a post with that title?)

Paralytic Hiatus

Stick with me, pals.

I've been smacked upside the head with the moody blues. Glum, foggy-headed funk.  Hot, humid, lethargic word-cement.

Inspired by Christy of Juvenescence and Lithia Writers' Collective, I'm going to attack the block from a different direction and attempt to put together a room of my own, physically and emotionally. One with a door I can close.  Click here for some excellent examples.

I may post a meme or two in the next few days, just to keep my fingers busy.  If you need things to read, do check out my blog links, as I've added a couple. Her Other Evil Twin is a true mystery woman. While I've never met the author of RedMolly Picayune-Democrat face-to-face, I figure -  in the blogosphere - one degree of separation qualifies. I attended public school with Old Roman Symbol from second through twelfth grade, but haven't seen him since 1977 (same with  What I Saw Today....maybe a reunion would shake things up?).

I think this is probably Texas' version of Seasonal Affective Disorder.  I once read an article about summer sufferers, including one woman who went to bed each night with two-liter Pepsi-bottles full of water she'd frozen to keep the night sweats at bay.  Not a bad plan at all.

Removing my Rose Colored Glasses Glasses

A year or so ago, Nora Ephron published a book of essays titled I Feel Bad About My Neck. Mildly intrigued and acutely aware of my own advancing age, I ordered it and began to read. After the first few pieces I put it aside, as I'd grown tired of what I perceived as an obsessive self-focus.

"I am glad I'm not so concerned about my appearance. No, maybe it's that I'm glad I seem to be holding up fairly well. Good genes. Luck. Sunscreen. Anyway, enough with the 'woe over wrinkles' stuff!" I semi-gloated as I poured a glass of red wine and settled in with some other reading material.

Things have changed. I feel bad about my eyes.

Understand. My eyes are my one vanity, the single feature on my entire body I, without reservation, know are beautiful. I realize this sounds flippant, but I would be kickass hot in a chador. 

For several years, I've been using clics when I read. They are the greatest thing since sliced bread. But over the last 18 months or so I've noticed problems with ever-larger print and a need for help in the middle distance.

Yesterday, I endured a long postponed eye exam. Some folks dread the dentist's chair. Me? The optometrist's dim room. For a perfectionist, the simple question, "Which is clearer? This or this?" induces crippling anxiety.  I tend to answer, "Well, in the first one, the two letters on the far right are clearer, but in the second one, those two letters suck but the one in the center is much better and the two on the left are about 25% clearer."  It's a damned good thing this guy has known me for a long time.

Frame selection was its own fresh hell.

I purchased up a pair of prescription readers and the first thing I saw was not the crisp features of type on a page but the truly aged appearance of the skin on my forearm. Gasp. I will be using these over contact lenses, which I hope I will tolerate better than I did the last time I tried them a few years ago. Back then I could just give the lenses up. Now I'm not so sure.

It gets worse. If the contacts don't work, or during those periods when I choose not to wear them, I must sport that signal indicator of advancing age: bifocals.  I'm picking them up this afternoon, after I wake up from the depressed nap I'm about to take.

I feel bad about my eyes, Nora Ephron. Maybe now I'll feel better about your book.

Gift Night

I just returned from walking Large Dog. A line of thunderstorms moved through this afternoon and left things freakishly cool.  It's 63 degrees outside. 

Thank you, universe, for sending me a little bit of what I'm missing so much.

The Dark. The Wall.

The trip is off. I will be blogging from the hell that is Texas summer.  More about this when I cool off from the news.

The Light. The Tunnel.

I am now officially able to plot my departure for Oregon. At the oncologist's today, my mother received the bad news/good news talk that we've heard before. The tumors are growing again, and her tumor marker continues to rise. But two drugs remain in the arsenal, and she started one today. I was assured that the disease would make no radical downturns in the next two months, even if she did not respond to the first drug. 

As I told Mother today, "Don't forget: you had ten times this much cancer in you before you even knew you were sick."

The house is in high gear, what with route planning, Small Child's summer camp/activities selection (this all had to wait until we knew which state we'd be in), gear collection (where is my bike helmet?), and wardrobe organization. I'm paring down this year as there's a chance I'll be driving home in something less bulky than the Silver Minivan. If so, my cries of joy will ring from the redwood forests to the Gulf stream waters.

My big decision? Dare I drive with Large Dog and Small Child? Or do I repeat last year's plan and find someone to fly out with her? Fuel prices are, alas, impacting the decision. I've been waiting all year long for those five or six days of solitary road bliss, with my dog's sweet sleeping head on my lap and the westbound road ahead.  Am I selfish because I don't want to spoil it with whining, even from the lips of one so dear?