Sunday, November 11, 2007

not ha ha funny

So, a few weeks ago I bought a new computer. Well, my employer paid for it but I get to have it at home. So very nice. So, we went to the Apple store the day after the new operating system came out, which was not the best plan but after a hectic hour with a really flaky sales dude and the kids, etc, we got out of there with my new imac computer. It is the first desktop computer I’ve had in many years but since my traveling days are over I was happy to realize that I could get a big monitor and actually save some money over a laptop. It is yet to be seen how this is going to work out when I am back in the office more but, whatever. Jason spent hours getting my files moved over and the new system installed. I put the kids to bed and came into the office to find him tinkering. He said, this is really nice but I want the 24”. And I said, duh, this is the 24”. And he said, no it’s not, as I frantically looked at the box to realize that it was actually the 20”, which was not what I asked for, multiple times I might add. Remember the flaky sales dude? Well, yeah, he sold me the wrong computer and there were at least 4 valid but totally boring reasons why I didn’t notice until hours later. The Apple store was very accommodating and Jason was my super hero and I had the new, huge computer on my desk that night. He, again, spent a bunch of time getting it set up.

So, I used it for a couple of weeks and on one hand was thrilled at it’s beauty and functionality and on the other hand was bleary-eyed and nauseated. The fucking thing was making me crazy. I couldn’t look at it for more than 10 minutes without averting my eyes and rubbing my head and moaning. Not so productive after all. So, this weekend I sucked it up on the last day possible (14 days after purchase) and paid a hefty restocking fee to return the 24” imac and get the 20” imac. Again. Perhaps the flaky sales guy knew something I didn’t and I should have left well enough alone that first day. I think I would have felt like I settled though and this way I know that I have as much monitor as I can take. What a colossal pain in the ass. For what it’s worth, which is not much, I am not alone. I did some googling and found a number of other people with the same complaint about that computer. Perhaps it’s the glare (super glossy) or the resolution (very high, making the text really small) or the radiation (?) or god knows what else. Here it is in all it’s glory on my messy desk. The new one is identical but so much more petite. My eyes are already thanking me and I’m pretty sure Jason is too since he won’t have to listen to so much bitching anymore. At least about that anyway.

sleepless and rambling

Given that Mia is hardly rolling over, let alone crawling, I am have not been thinking about baby proofing. Except for the odd moment when I realize that it is going to be a little insane to keep all of Henry’s million small toys that are constantly littering the floor out of her mouth. Other than that, not so much. Henry on the other hand, when confronted with a stash of rubber bands, decided to take matters into his own hands. As you may be able to tell, he was actually quite thorough.

He may be onto something though. This child does have access to tools and when she figures out that the hammer is good for something beyond putting in her mouth we may all be in trouble.

In a tangential way, this reminded me of a conversation years ago when Nonlinear Girl was very pregnant. A number of our friends were chatting and the topic landed on childproofing. No doubt, one of us was complaining about something our small child had gotten into. I think I remember it so well because Nonlinear Girl is one of the most polite, chatty people I know. Seriously, she can make small talk like nobody’s business, a skill I often wish I possessed a bit more of. In any case, a childless friend asked her if she was thinking about baby proofing and planning how to fix up her home for a mobile baby. The answer was a clear, simple “no” and then conversation moved on. I remember feeling like smirking and then feeling like a bit of a jerk for that impulse. It's easy to feel like part of a club once you have a child but I do understand that the minute details that become the focus of our lives with children are likely beyond comprehensible to those who aren’t living them.

It is so easy to get caught up in the stage/phase/age of the moment and forget what came before and what comes next in our children’s lives. At the moment I am trying to figure out feeding Mia something other than what comes out of my breasts. Granted, I am trying a different approach than I did with Henry but it was only a couple years ago that we were starting to feed him. It’s simply amazing how few details I remember and feel like I have to learn it all over again. For me, I think the second child is easier because I am less worried about timeframes and milestones and such. I know it will all happen in due time and that stressing and researching isn’t going to help. On the other hand, I really don’t feel like it is much easier because I already know how to do the thing in question. Perhaps it was that year-and-a-half that Henry hardly slept but I can seriously hardly remember a thing. Thankfully we have photos.

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Thursday, November 08, 2007

defying the rational, or, i really need a babysitter

Conducting a conference call for a project you are managing that is unfamiliar to begin with can be hectic. Conducting said call with three long-winded middle-aged dudes with big egos (veteran journalist, architect and video producer) can be stressful. Conducing said call (did I mention it was a kick-off call and my boss (the architect) and the other two hadn’t yet spoken and he sort of got into it with the journalist-turned-video-production-executive and told him that he tended to talk to much? Well, yes, it was.) with said people and mediating their bullshit while pacing around with a grumpy, tired baby is, in a word or two, fucking ridiculous. I wonder sometimes, well, at times like these, what in the hell I think I am doing. Clearly, whatever it is, it is not sane.

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