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Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Just another day

It’ll come as no surprise that I boycott companies that piss me off for one reason or another. Walgreen’s bought up the land that Tonelli’s was on and put up YET ANOTHER store less than a mile from an older one? See ya Walgreen’s. BP reneged on its promise to keep the Amoco logo and name? Screw you BP. And Dell, ah, Dell. Where to begin? The conversation I had with “Joe” after my computer completely crashed, wouldn’t boot up, nada, I think kind of says it all (and as an aside, is anyone fooled by Sameer in Mumbai using an “Americanized” name as he tries to imitate the concept of customer service?):

Me: My computer crashed, I need to know if it can be fixed.
“Joe” from Mumbai: Did it fall down?
Me, after a moment of silence: Excuse me??
“Joe”: You said it crashed. Did it fall down? Did you knock it over?
Me, incredulous: “......….”

After being told I’d have to pay some exorbitant fee for them to even talk to me to tell me IF the computer could be fixed, I vowed to never buy a computer again from such idiots. Enter the Mac. You know, the Mac – the computer that no one ever has any problems with. Plug and Play all the way. Nirvana. Blah blah blah.

Except for me, of course. Yes, I’m the lone person who can buy a Mac and have problems from the beginning. Minor stuff to be sure, but no paved road to bliss for Miss Tasha. What a surprise.

Anyway, I’ve had more serious problems for many months now, the chief one being that the computer would get SO slow that eventually I’d have to just restart the damn thing to get anywhere. Didn’t matter if I was online or using Office – same insane slowness. Then programs started shutting down abruptly, for no apparent reason. Then I discovered that my camera wouldn’t download its pictures via the USB port. Then the printer wouldn’t work. Month after month of this, one annoyance after another, but I didn’t want to bring it in because I couldn’t be computer-less. So I dealt with it. But then…..THEN came the day….my iPod wouldn’t sync up. I had been buying songs in an attempt to foil my evil iPod, which hates me and insists on playing Dancing Queen all too frequently, particularly when I'm in serious training mode, but now I couldn’t download them?? What ho??

(I picture long ride after long ride, with nothing but the tinny voices of ABBA playing over......and over......and over....)

The next day I was at the Genius Bar at the Mac store, talking to “Paul” – though maybe that really was his name, who can say – explaining the problems. He looks skeptical.

Mac guy Paul, condescendingly: It could just be slow because you have too many programs open.
Me: No, you don’t understand – I can have ONE program open and it gets ridiculously slow.
MgP: I’m sure it’s fine, but let’s run this diagnostic test anyway….oh.

You see, our little diagnostic test told us in BIG BOLD RED LETTERS that there was a hard drive failure. In a 2-year old Mac. Which would need repair. I tried to impress upon Paul the gravity of the situation:

Me: You have to understand, I’m a triathlete. A triathlon goddess. I need my iTunes.
MgP: We can back everything up for a fee. That way you’ll have all your important document….
Me, impatiently: Yes, yes. But the music, will you save my music?
MgP: Yes, but don’t you care abou…
Me, firmly: That’s all that matters. Oh, and my pictures too of course. The Kone is equally important.
MgP: Bu….fine. Yes, that’ll all be saved. You got it.

I wonder why it is that so many people these days seem to be getting those nervous tics in their eyes. How odd. Must be stress over the economy or something – I can’t imagine what else it would be.

So the Mac is in the shop, and if I owe anyone an email, that’s why. And on a totally separate note, a message to the asshats who stole my credit card number, slapped it on another card, and were charging up a storm in California: I hope you all suffer a slow, painful death that involves fire ants and honey and many torturous hours of Yanni. Yes, Yanni. It’s what you losers deserve.

And finally, the other day a friend asked me a question: “Are you really following a diet or is that just for the blog?”

Now, I take this kind of question in stride, though I confess to being a bit surprised that anyone would think that I ever, ever MSU with anything I write. I note once again that I am merely a scribe, writing things down exactly as they occur. But I do understand the impetus for these types of questions, as people marvel at the superhuman feats and trials I subject myself to, all in the name of triathlon glory and prowess. It stands to reason that people would wonder if anyone would actually suffer through these rigors.

The answer, of course, is yes. In fact, Tasha’s House of Stupid has been open for some time now, so come on by. As for the diet, things have been going just splendidly. Let’s see – I’ve averaged about 600 calories a day for some weeks now, and in that time I’ve managed to gain and lose the SAME TWO FUCKING POUNDS over and over again. Yes, I write down what I’m eating – actually, I enter it into Fitday so I know the exact number of calories. For a while there I was on a chicken-snap pea-broccoli kick, even weighing out the peas on a little kitchen scale to make sure I didn’t go over my daily allotment. These days I stick to yogurt and salmon, keeping things simple. And my reward for my efforts was to gain half a pound this week. Note to self: cut back on the extra tbs. of cottage cheese every few days.

So yes, I’m truly on this crazy diet, and as you’d imagine, I pretty much feel like crap all the time, and my training is subpar, so I don’t really recommend this methodology to anyone out there in ReaderLand. And I’ve said it before but it bears repeating – anyone who EVER says anything to me about how “it’s all about calories in, calories out” – you will face Instant. Death. You have all been warned.

2 comments:

D said...

Wait... someone wouldn't believe that you're going to rely solely on Timbits for your IronSpud race nutrition? Blasphemy.

Unknown said...

Tasha,

have a blast in Europe.
I will miss your jokes and horrible temper for the next two weeks.

And... here's to you finding a steamy Italian (short-term) lover while there!

Ellen