So many questions...

OK, remember when I was updating my blog and I lost everything?  Remember how I ranted?  Remember how I cried?  Remember how I thought I'd never see my photos again?  Remember how long it took to get things back up and running?  Remember when I uploaded the cute new header with the bees buzzing around?  When did that header disappear?  How long has it been gone?  Where did it go?  How do I get it back?  Just wondering...

Maggot Mouse

I know, doesn't that title just scream for your atention?!

I think I've mentioned our family cat in the past...  You know, the one who doesn't have a name, doesn't know how to purr, and apparently doesn't know how to say, "No" to the neighborhood Tom.  (Yes, we're expecting kittens any day...)  That cat, currently being called Floozie, is good at her job.  Her job being, of course, keeping the mouse population under control.  She's a hard worker, probably underpaid, but exceptionally skilled.  My only complaint is that she loves to leave proof of her good work for my inspection.  I know, ick...  Anyway, we have encountered a new problem...

Enter, Lola...

Lola is not such a dedicated worker.  She loves to chew on expensive shoes, steal toothbrushes, and nom on decorative pillows.  She is definitely not pulling her weight within the family, and aside from the Cute Factor, she has relatively little to offer.

To counter her lack of contribution to the household, she had taken a new tack.  Instead of actually doing anything helpful, like fetching me a Diet Coke, she is trying to steal the cat's thunder.  The cat leaves a mouse for my inspection (acceptably discarded in a remote region of the yard)...  Lola discovers the mouse...  Lola brings the mouse to my very doorstep...  Lola tries to bring the mouse into my house.  I do not appreciate this new direction that Lola has taken.  Lola must drop Maggot Mouse immediately!  No, Lola!  Not in the house!  No!  NO!!!  Lola is FIRED!

Can someone come get rid of Maggot Mouse?  Mister???  Please???

If it isn't one thing...

Well, the fun just keeps rolling...  It would appear that while iMac was off getting his innards replaced (again) the tech fairy was having a little fun at my expense.  I can't seem to find the cables that connect my camera to my computer... hmmm...

I think I took some great photos today and (although I'm hesitant to trust my not-so-trusty iMac to store and protect them) I would still like to upload and preview them.  But maybe it's better this way.  I won't embarrass myself by advertising my lacking photography skills...  And the afore mentioned photos will stay safely in my camera--where they are unlikely to suddenly and inexplicable disappear.

So, imagine that this post is accompanied by really incredible photos.  The gray clouds breaking apart.  Just enough early morning sunlight spilling through to illuminate the glittering beads of rain clinging to the tender limbs of my blossoming trees and bushes...  The luscious, verdant quality of my lawn.  The graphic twisting and contorting of the darkly wet branches of the scrub oak...  The crisp white mountain peaks in the background...  Because I'm sure that is exactly what I caught with my camera lens...  yeah...  I'm sure...  It was awesome!

I'm moving on.

I've attempted everything in my power--I've even attempted some things that turned out to be outside of my power...  But I still cannot recover any more of my photos.  It looks like I've lost everything since sometime before Christmas.  That means no Christmas, New Years, or The Buddies' Birthday.  No Nutcracker,  no Hansel, no Gretel, no forest friends...  No Easter, nor birthday for The Boy.  Sadly, those photos are no longer with us.

Can we have a moments of silence, please?

Ok--now I'll move on.

But tell me, how does everyone else back up their data?  Carbonite claims to have found additions photos (they claim 999) that were corrupt and unrecoverable.  What's the use of that?  Is there a better way to safely save duplications of the photos I take?  We have an external hard drive, but those don't always seem reliable either.  Suggestions?

It's a sad, sad day...

Well, after nearly a week, our iMac file recovery is complete...  Or, more accurately, it's finished, but the files are incomplete.  I've lost thousands of photos.  And who knows what else...?

Words cannot adequately describe how I feel at this moment.  I'm sick, sad, frustrated, annoyed, incensed, angry, and generally despondent.  Although I'm stymied as to why Carbonite didn't seem to back up everything, mostly I'm just highly irritated that this happened at all.  Apple has the worst customer service around, and their warranty is pathetic, too.  I can't believe that I find myself in this situation for the second time in less than a year!  And they offer no help or assistance.

I know the iPad just came out...  And the iPhone will keep vying for attention...  But don't talk to me about Apple products right now.  I'm NOT a happy camper!

Still Waiting...

I've had my fingers crossed for nearly a week now...  I sincerely hope that the pretzelification of my hands is reversible.  I guess we'll know once I get a peek at the restored files on iMac.  If the restore wasn't successful, it will be devastating.

We are at 91.1% restored and (so far) not a hint of any digital images has reappeared.  I have to admit that I'm getting a little nervous!  But The Mister keeps insisting that they were the last to reappear last time, too. How unfortunate is it that we even had a last time to compare it with!  I've got to do some serious thinking about why we've had such bad luck with the iMac.  Apple likes to continue to insist that it's just my bad luck.  Ironic, since I've always considered myself to be lucky.  I have to believe that there is an inherent problem with the design somewhere...

School is coming to an end for the year, and HRH has been a little frustrated with the unavailability of iMac.  It's hard to do your homework without reliable technology.  I feel her pain...  I'm frustrated by not being able to upload and edit photos, download my BodyBugg data, or keep on top of the blog...  I'm sure you're all frustrated by my lack of consistent blogging--don't despair, it will get better. (lol)

For the past week, we've been placing bets on how long the restore will take.  The Mister's guess expired yesterday at 1pm.  My prediction is for later today...  Maybe early evening...  Although my initial guess was the first one to lapse, so what do I know?

Wish us luck!  I hope Monday brings happy news, along with the rain!

Yay!

Well--I hope it's a "yay."  We got iMac back yesterday afternoon and began to recover the lost data.  We're only half way through the restore process, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed that we will recover everything.

In the meantime, life is just rolling along.  I've had a very frustrating week, and I don't see it getting better anytime soon.  It's amazing how easy it is to let other people affect your mood.

But enough about that--fingers crossed that the recovery works.  Hopefully I'll be back online tomorrow!

And again... Arg!

Just a quick update to tell you that I'm not running from my obligations as a blogger...  Quite the opposite!  I have some beautiful photos of HRH dancing in the Hansel and Gretel Ballet that I'd love to share...  BUT, my Mac crashed (again!) taking photos, email, and everything else with it.

Two years ago we were talked into moving everything from PC to Mac.  We were convinced it was more stable, more reliable, more everything...  That has not been our experience.  This is the second hard drive we've crashed.  I just hope that Carbonite had everything backed up!

Temporary Tragedy

Have you ever noticed that tragedy strikes when you least expect it?  I had one of those heart-stopping moments just this evening.  I was plucking along, making improvements to my life, my blog, my online presence...  And the unthinkable happened.

Now, not to get all shallow on you again, but tonight I made a serious mistake while updating my blog.  I accidentally deleted the whole template.  I mean the whole template.  That includes formatting, photos, links, you name it...  I just sat here and stared at the computer screen...  I didn't utter a four-letter word, because there were no words to adequately describe how I felt.  I have to be honest, I was a little sick to my stomach.  Does that make me spectacularly shallow, or what?

Anyway, as dumb luck would have it.  I actually did find a backup of my original template.  Of course, I didn't find it until after I tried (unsuccessfully) to replace it with myriad other templates.  So, for those of you who logged in earlier today (mom?), I hope you weren't caused any lasting distress by the unreadable and generally disjointed content of my blog.  I know how you look forward to my blogging (lol) and I assure you that I'll be more careful in all future attempts to beautify my blog.

I know we will all rest a little easier knowing that I've learned my lesson: Always backup your incredibly important files. 

Thank you for your support.  :)

In the Unlikely Event...

On the evening news, I listened as the newscaster re-capped the story about the disappearance of a local woman.  I watched as images of her flashed across the screen.  This slide show of photos made me think...  Would she have chosen those specific photos to share with the public?

It's weird isn't it?  Sometimes I look at photos of people who have been lost and are later found.  I wonder, would I have recognized that person if I had passed him or her on the street?  Are the photos shared with the public good representations of how these people really appear?  I'm not sure I would have recognized Elizabeth Smart from her photos...  It's hard enough for me to recognize family resemblances...  Could I really pick out the features of a stranger just from a photo?  Could I recognize a stranger whose photo I had only briefly seen?  What about seeing that person out of context--would they even seem familiar?

All I really know is this...  There are many photos of me that I hope never see the light of day.  I certainly don't want them broadcast across the local or national airwaves.  In fact, I think I'd rather not be recognized at all, rather than be recognized by some of those photos.

You hear about celebrities whose obituaries are written years in advance.  These seemingly-posthumously written tributes are continually updated.  I'm going to work with that idea.  On my computer, I am going to create an in case photo file.  This file will not include the bikini era.  It will exclude the post-triplet baby-fat era.  It will bypass the what was I thinking hair-style era.  I think it will focus strongly on the thanks for Photoshopping that era.  The photos in this file with be resplendent in rich color (no gray hair, please), expert airbrush techniques, and digital enhancements (can you slim that thigh a little?).  The wind-blown hair, pouty-lipped look will be optional, used only as required. 

If I ever go missing, due to head-trauma induced amnesia or anything else, will someone please remind The Mister not to use any photos unless they come from this pre-approved file?  If not, I might find myself in Arkansas or somewhere, too humiliated to return home. 

Thank you in advance for your assistance in this matter.


   

Strange Catch

Strange is what we found in the garage yesterday.  It's not a mouse, it's not a vole, it's not a rat, it isn't even a gopher, but what is it?  The kitty-with-no-name is certainly proud of her conquest.  But I just wish she'd take it away and not leave it out as a trophy for me to step on...  ick!

I'd post a photo so you could submit your guesses, but that's a double ick on the Ickiness Scale. *shudder*

Lucky Me!

I've said it before, I'm a bit of a techno-nerd, still shocking, isn't it?  I like the new gadgets, the upgrades, the latest and greatest.  But my current run-of-luck regarding technology has been a bit of a challenge.  

I don't think I've ever mentioned the high-tech aspects of our home.  To turn on the music, TV, DVD player, or digital photo frames, we are obligated to use a specially formatted remote control.  This specially formatted remote control cost us a fortune ($250 give or take a little) and it runs nearly everything...  At least it's supposed to run everything.  The problem is, our remote should look like this:

But instead, it looks like this...

Why is that a problem?  Because there is a very complex menu system that should be visible on the LCD screen of the remote...  Note the cracked screen--our menu is not so visible with that cracked screen.  And that's the problem.  Actually, it wouldn't be a problem if we hadn't lost the additional (and equally expensive) remote.  But seemingly, we have--or at least had.

Sometime during the holidays we lost our remote.  We tore apart the house, the couches, the beds, the closets, and everything else in an effort to locate that expensive remote...  All this searching seemed to be fruitless, as we remained the owners of only one (very sad looking) remote.  A common refrain has become,

Who has the remote?  And where do you have it?

That remote had become a bit of a nomad...  Being hauled from room to room to perform channel surfing on one TV after another...  It's been a busy piece of technology.

I'd come to the conclusion that we must have inadvertently thrown out our remote with the holiday trash.  It's been an annoying few months...

Thankfully, I think I'm arriving at the end of my techno-tragic streak.  I have officially located all the ringing phones.  If you call, I will answer (assuming I'm home).

I have adapted to talking to both the GPS unit and the hands-free feature of my car.  We are all getting along (with only a limited number of outbursts).

And the best news of all.  I found the remote!  Oh, Happy Day!

He Thinks This Is A Good Idea

The Mister has the benefit (nuisance) of working with doctors all day.  This association means that he is often subjected to the "expert" opinions of those aforementioned physicians.

The Mister has been trying to get in better shape.  He's watching what he eats (most of the time), and he is getting up early to work out.  I'm supportive of this effort, well, not the weight loss efforts, but the getting-in-shape efforts.  For those who don't know him, The Mister is of a rather slight build.  As a woman of a more average build, it is to my extreme disadvantage to have The Mister lose weight.  That having been said, you must understand that weight is something of an issue in this house.  I'd like to see The Mister gain a little weight (in all the right places, of course).  At the same time, I'd like nothing more than to shed a few of my extra pounds.  I prefer there to be a distinct difference in our sizes...  And obviously, I'd like him to outweigh me at any given time.

The Mister made an announcement at large today.  He wants a body fat measuring scale...  He related that after speaking with a doctor about the changes (or lack thereof) on the scale display, he needed a better way of measuring his progress.  He's convinced that he isn't losing weight, despite his workouts, because he is gaining muscle mass.  Yippee!  I hope that's the truth.  But now he wants the body fat scale to confirm that he is correct in this supposition.   

Truthfully, I have been experiencing some success on the weight-loss front myself.  But even considering that, every morning our bathroom scale yells at me to "get off!"  I really don't think I need another device in my life that's sole purpose is to tell me just how fat I am.  (Not matter how much padding I may or may not be carrying!)  Really, do you think that's necessary?

And BTW--if anyone gets him one of these monsterous devices for Christmas, that person will be crossed off my gifting list for the rest of his or her natural life.

Stupid Things

I am a master at doing stupid things that make me want to kick myself.  Often, those regrettable actions come in the form of dumb comments.  Or the misplacing of some rather important item.  Losing my temper and failing to keep my cool under pressure.  Volunteering for assignments that I honestly have no time or energy to accomplish.  But the thing that rankles me more than almost anything else is when I throw out the garbage, including some vitally important (or expensive) item that really can't be classified as refuse.

I did that last week...  Again...

Remember how handsome The Boy looked on his Graduation Day?  I remember it.  In fact, I hope I will long remember it.  Because the memory of how grown up he looked in his newly tailored pants, crisp dress shirt, and silk tie are all that I have left.  The unfortunate truth of what I'm confessing is that I threw away his new dress pants...  The pants that I bought at Nordstrom...  The pants that he wore twice...  Those custom-tailored pants, in charcoal grey, with the subtle pin striping...  Those pants...

You might be wondering how I could do something so stupid.  The truth is, I have lots of practice doing stupid things.  This one just happens to be a little more painful than others.  And the reason that it's a little more painful is twofold.  First, I hate paying good money only to dispose of such items so uncerimoniously.  But the more important reason is that I don't know that I'll ever convince The Boy to get another pair of dress pants.  And without him there to try them on, I'll never be able to buy him another pair that fit him as well as these did.

So, how did it happen?  Well, soon after graduation The Boy went on a Pioneer Trek.  On Trek the girls are required to wear pioneer dresses and the boys are asked to wear non-denim pants (preferably with suspenders)--it's supposed to add to the experience.  The Boy took it upon himself to purchase some wool dress pants at DI (our local Goodwill-type store).  After Trek The Boy threw his Trek clothing in the laundry along with his new dress pants.  I told him that we would need to take his dress pants to the dry cleaners if they really needed cleaning.  I asked him to put them in his room rather than leaving them in the laundry basket.  Unfortunately, I assumed he had actually done as I asked...  Why would I assume that?  Really, why?

Anyway, I decided that I was not going to pay for his wool Trek trousers to be dry cleaned.  And since all DI donations are supposed to be clean, I just decided to chuck them in the garbage.  You see where this is going, right?  I gathered up all the trousers in the basket and hauled them to the garbage.  The garbage went to the curb...  The garbage truck picked them up...  It makes me a little sick just thinking about it.

Anyhow...  While packing The Boy's belongings for his move to college, we discovered that the dress pants were missing...  Through deductive reasoning we have determined their whereabouts...  It isn't happy...

I hate chenopods

Chenopods--I can't help but pronounce that with disdain! I hate those sneeze-inducing perpetrators. And really, what's to like about them? Do they have any redeeming qualities? With names like pig weed, scale, and Russian thistle, what do you expect! As far as I'm concerned, these weeds deserve their bad reputation. As for being utterly despised, they asked for it with their annoying, allergic-reaction causing pollen.

Chenopods--I curse you! You deserve a hard freeze. And I don't even feel guilty for condemning you to that fate. I just hope it happens before I lose too many brain cells from all the sneezing. (Because I'm sure that sneezing this hard and this often can't possibly be good for my brain cells...)

The End.

Farewell to the Volvo

This is the damage. Glad nobody was hurt!

Goodbye. Hope to see you soon!

Isn't it just the way...

After arriving home yesterday, I removed my media storage cards from my camera and uploaded all the photos. I wanted to make sure I had taken care of that before sending my camera off to the repair shop. Afterward, on a whim, I decided to try it out again to see if a little down time and a day of rest had convinced it to work again.

You know the answer--right?

While my camera is not in perfect working order, it is performing significantly better. Isn't that the way it always goes? And by tomorrow, when I take it in for repairs, I'm sure it will work flawlessly. I just hate that!

I'm sorry ma'am, but I don't see the problem. It seems to be working just fine...

Aarg! And so I'll take it home, and pack it up again for my trip to NYC. But we all know what will happen when I get there... And so the cycle begins...

Where did those stitches go?

I have five kids. Five kids equals many trips to the ER. We've called 911 more than our fair share of times. I'm not sure if the worst part of these emergency visits is the wait time, or the culminating medical bill.

My new pet peeve is this: Waiting forever for treatment and/or waiting hours before figuring out that the medical attention provided was non-helpful.

A couple of years ago, I took JJ to a local ER when I was sure he had appendicitis. We waited for HOURS before even being shown to a gurney. After waiting for yet several more hours, we were told that they weren't sure what was wrong with JJ. They proceeded to tell me that if I was correct, and it was in fact appendicitis, there was nothing they could do for him. They told me that I should take him to Primary Children's Hospital where they were better equipped to deal with pediatric cases. Why on earth would they let me waste an entire night waiting for help before sending me out the door to another hospital? We arrived at Primary's at 4:30 am where JJ was whisked into surgery for an emergency appendectomy. His abdomen was full of infection.

JJ spent a few days in the hospital, but now he's fine... No thanks to the efforts (or lack thereof) of the staff at hospital Numero Uno.

Last night we had another trying experience. Max fell and cut his face open. It was immediately apparent that he needed stitches. The Mister took him to Primary Children's Hospital (per my request) where they arrived around 8pm. They waited until after 2 am before being seen by a physician. I understand that the ER was busy, and I have no argument there. The problem is this... After waiting for 6 hours with a gaping wound, he got stitches, but the doctor decided to use dissolvable stitches. The stitches were supposed to take 5 days to dissolve, and if they hadn't completely dissolved by then, we were to take Max in to have them removed. Here's the problem... The stitches dissolved completely by dinnertime tonight. They didn't even make it 18 hours! Now what am I supposed to do? I know they won't restitch him at this point. But now I'm concerned it's going to pull open again. What good are dissolving stitches if they dissolve before the wound is healed? Seriously!

Dance Sucks

The dance world is a fickle place in which to live.

Some judges may have their impartiality tainted by the interference of others.

If studio policies exist, they should be shared with those they involve. Those policies should apply equally to everyone, without exception.

No dancer should be given preferential treatment. Not because she is a favorite. Not because her mom complained.

Preferential treatment is not to be confused with earned opportunities.

Dancers should earn special opportunities through dedication and hard work. No single dancer should be "given" an opportunity that she did not earn. Especially at the expense of another dancer who actually did earn the opportunity.

All dancers should be encouraged to compete for any scholarship or opportunity for which they are qualified. Dancers should not be asked to step aside and give up an opportunity for another dancer's sake.

Dance directors and studio owners should never do anything to handicap any of their own dancers to benefit someone else, even if that someone else is another one of their own dancers.

Dancers and parents put their faith and trust in studio directors and owners and expect that their dancers will be promoted and encouraged.

Studio directors and owners should never intimidate their dancers into submission.

Studio directors and owners should never do anything to thwart the advancement or opportunities of one of their dancers.

Studio directors and owners should remember that without tuition-paying parents they would be out of business.

And now I'm done.

It's a Love/Hate Thing

The adage goes something like this: The qualities that you initially find endearing in your spouse will eventually become the things that drive you nuts. Similarly, those things about which you complain become the things without which you cannot live.

This post is not about how The Mister drives me crazy (although it could be!). Instead, this post is about how the much lamented Groundhog Days of recent are now a thing of wishful thinking.

Last week (and for seemingly unending weeks prior to that), I was bored by the ongoing sameness and predictable nature of my life. Today, my world was thrown into a tailspin of a technological nature. There is not much which can produce the same amount of havoc as an electronically induced meltdown. And that is exactly what I am enduring today.

Where did The Days of The Predictable iMac go? As is typical, this morning I logged onto my iMac--or rather I tried to log onto my iMac... After much tapping, typing, button holding, ejecting, unplugging, and tech support calling, I was informed that it appeared that my hard drive had gone bad. Hmmm. Then Tech Support Guy helpfully informs me that I am no longer under warranty. Yikes!

Tech Support Guy and I continue to tinker with my once beloved iMac, which is now literally a shell of its former self... Tech Support Guy informs me that I may have lost all data on my hard drive.

Was there anything really important on here?

Hmmm, anything important? Gee--why would there be? It's not like I use it to store all my digital photos, oh, that's right, I do! Drat! And it would be stupid for all my iTunes music and movies to be stored on my iMac without a backup anywhere in sight... Yep, I'm that stupid... And nobody would be dumb enough to keep documents and contacts on their iMac without keeping hard copy, right? Wrong... ARG!

So, today I'm wishing for a Groundhog Day. Something predictable, reliable, and not at risk of costing me great amounts of money and undue stress. Boy, the grass certainly is greener, isn't it?