I've just learned from reading another blog that Blogger has been eating comments. I thought they just liked mine. I noticed that a comment I left on another blog said it had been published after I pressed the "publish" button only to disappear.
Blogger has also given me trouble with font sizes in my entries. One paragraph may have a smaller font size than the next one and nothing I do seems to fix it.
Also spacing between paragraphs seems to double once I publish an entry. I have to go back and fix the problem manually and hope it doesn't happen again. Sometimes that works. Sometimes it doesn't.
These things are so irritating I'm looking into Wordpress.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
How Does Comcast Stay In Business?
This entry may seem to start out in left field, okay, it does start in out left field. BUT it finally gets to the question of the day: Comcast -- WTF?
[FYI: If this type looks smaller than the rest of the type in this entry, it is. Nothing I did would fix it. Blogger is getting kind of sucky, lately.]
But first, before Comcast, let's talk about ME.
Last week, after taking a half day off work, I drove forty-five miles to my hip doc's medical center for the three month check up that follows the six week check up. Most people who get hips are retired. They spend their days following hip surgery counting the moments until they can return to their doctors to talk and talk about how they're doing.
I'm not retired. My lotto ticket hasn't come in yet. After my second surgery, I recovered quickly enough to drive myself home from rehab and go back to work. In fact I was doing assignments during re-hab. No lying around eating bon-bons for me. Since time flies when you're having that much fun, I lost track of the weeks, so this was actually a four month check up, but who's counting?
When I signed in at the medical center, I discovered that, like most of my life lately, there was a problem. The appointment wasn't at the medical center where my doctor's stable of good-looking third year residents provide an interesting diversion. No, it was scheduled at his suburban office, twenty miles in a completely different direction. Rats. Gotta reschedule another forty-five mile trip for another day. The good news [?] -- I got back to work earlier.
Naturally, being over fifty, I am programmed to assume I made a mental mistake about the appointment, until I checked my email and the officious, sorry, well meaning young nurse who does the schedule had made her own farking mistake. Boy that felt good. Wait till you're sixty-six. You'll live to catch screw ups by patronizing young twits. "I bet you just had a senior moment, Mrs. Linklater." You can take your senior moment, Missy, and stick it in your ear.
The next day, Friday, I took off another half day for my car. I had made an appointment on Tuesday, three days ahead of time, for a new back window windshield wiper motor. Say that ten times. I wanted the alarm system disconnected, too. Lately, after it rains, the alarm has a bad habit of going off for no apparent reason. When I open the door, for instance. Then I have to stand there until I press the exact right spot on the button attached to my keys, while pointing it simultaneously at the sensor in the car, to halt the honking. So just disconnect the damn thing. Anyone who wants a 17 year old Jeep and several empty bottles of Nestea on the passenger seat can have it.
The mechanic had my car from 9:00 AM, only to call around 4:00 PM and say that the replacement motor sent out was the wrong one. And, when he disconnected the alarm system, the car wouldn't start. He doesn't know this already? The guy owns three Jeeps himself. One of them is identical to mine. After nine hours, nothing had been done.
Today, I took yet another day off work to take in the car again. I only live a mile from this mechanic, so I also scheduled Comcast and the electrician to come by the house. Comcast -- to hook up the cable and wireless internet. The electrician -- to replace a light fixture and fix the doorbell. Here's me, multi-tasking.
Comcast actually came out a little early!!! to set up the wireless internet, replace the old cable wires with new ones, and install the black box that makes HBO work.
Before getting started, the pleasant cable guy announced that OOOPS he didn't have an order to set up wireless internet, only the regular internet. We were off to a good start. The good news was that he had a wireless router on the truck. Oh, there was also a one time set up charge of $175. And there would also be a $5.00 monthly fee for a wireless router, plus $2 for something else. I told him I had been quoted $75 for the installation. And nothing was mentioned about an extra $5.00 per month [which turns out to be $5.99] for the router. Or the other two bucks.
He called the dispatcher about the $175. But the dispatcher could only lower the price to $150 since he didn't have access to the promotion codes. So I called the sales guy to tell him my problem. He talked to the installer and then made several more calls. He got me the $75 price, which I will believe when I see the bill.
This is on top of the sales people telling me I could have cable and wireless for $59.95 on the day, a week earlier, when I talked to them, as they were going door to door in my neighborhood drumming up business.
Only it turns out the real price was suddenly $79.95, plus an extra $5.00 for the second cable box when they came back so I could sign the order. That's because $59.95 was only for internet and phone [voice], not for internet and cable. Somewhere in there they tried to work out a $69.95 deal, but that internet speed would be a whole lot slower than the $79.95 speed. Oh wait, that offer is only for six months. Except maybe that's not true either. What's true is that there is NO internet/cable only deal.
Can you say BAIT AND SWITCH? Except that Comcast's promotions are so convoluted and confusing that anybody could screw them up. Not to mention I heard that Comcast just fired a bunch of well-trained people who were making too much money, hired newbies and threw them out there with very little training. These folks don't know what they're offering when they're making the offer. Apparently Comcast has spent all their money paying Shaq and Ben Stein.
So what I thought was a great monthly price at $59.95 for cable and wireless with two tvs and two computers and a one time installation charge of $75, is almost twice that much, what with "neglecting" to inform me of five bucks here, five bucks there and oh, we made a mistake, that should have been. . .
Here's the best part. This "deal" is only good for twelve months. Then you can add $20 per month for a second year. After that I think the cost almost doubles. I smell a plug being pulled.
Meanwhile, the electrician came by and left because he couldn't fix what needed fixing without another electrician along. But the mechanic got the new windshield wiper motor installed. Only without a windshield wiper because he lost it somewhere. And then he broke the wiper on his Jeep, trying to take it off and use it on my car.
Plus, I still can't lock the car unless I want to set off the alarm when I open the door.
[FYI: If this type looks smaller than the rest of the type in this entry, it is. Nothing I did would fix it. Blogger is getting kind of sucky, lately.]
But first, before Comcast, let's talk about ME.
Last week, after taking a half day off work, I drove forty-five miles to my hip doc's medical center for the three month check up that follows the six week check up. Most people who get hips are retired. They spend their days following hip surgery counting the moments until they can return to their doctors to talk and talk about how they're doing.
I'm not retired. My lotto ticket hasn't come in yet. After my second surgery, I recovered quickly enough to drive myself home from rehab and go back to work. In fact I was doing assignments during re-hab. No lying around eating bon-bons for me. Since time flies when you're having that much fun, I lost track of the weeks, so this was actually a four month check up, but who's counting?
When I signed in at the medical center, I discovered that, like most of my life lately, there was a problem. The appointment wasn't at the medical center where my doctor's stable of good-looking third year residents provide an interesting diversion. No, it was scheduled at his suburban office, twenty miles in a completely different direction. Rats. Gotta reschedule another forty-five mile trip for another day. The good news [?] -- I got back to work earlier.
Naturally, being over fifty, I am programmed to assume I made a mental mistake about the appointment, until I checked my email and the officious, sorry, well meaning young nurse who does the schedule had made her own farking mistake. Boy that felt good. Wait till you're sixty-six. You'll live to catch screw ups by patronizing young twits. "I bet you just had a senior moment, Mrs. Linklater." You can take your senior moment, Missy, and stick it in your ear.
The next day, Friday, I took off another half day for my car. I had made an appointment on Tuesday, three days ahead of time, for a new back window windshield wiper motor. Say that ten times. I wanted the alarm system disconnected, too. Lately, after it rains, the alarm has a bad habit of going off for no apparent reason. When I open the door, for instance. Then I have to stand there until I press the exact right spot on the button attached to my keys, while pointing it simultaneously at the sensor in the car, to halt the honking. So just disconnect the damn thing. Anyone who wants a 17 year old Jeep and several empty bottles of Nestea on the passenger seat can have it.
The mechanic had my car from 9:00 AM, only to call around 4:00 PM and say that the replacement motor sent out was the wrong one. And, when he disconnected the alarm system, the car wouldn't start. He doesn't know this already? The guy owns three Jeeps himself. One of them is identical to mine. After nine hours, nothing had been done.
Today, I took yet another day off work to take in the car again. I only live a mile from this mechanic, so I also scheduled Comcast and the electrician to come by the house. Comcast -- to hook up the cable and wireless internet. The electrician -- to replace a light fixture and fix the doorbell. Here's me, multi-tasking.
Comcast actually came out a little early!!! to set up the wireless internet, replace the old cable wires with new ones, and install the black box that makes HBO work.
Before getting started, the pleasant cable guy announced that OOOPS he didn't have an order to set up wireless internet, only the regular internet. We were off to a good start. The good news was that he had a wireless router on the truck. Oh, there was also a one time set up charge of $175. And there would also be a $5.00 monthly fee for a wireless router, plus $2 for something else. I told him I had been quoted $75 for the installation. And nothing was mentioned about an extra $5.00 per month [which turns out to be $5.99] for the router. Or the other two bucks.
He called the dispatcher about the $175. But the dispatcher could only lower the price to $150 since he didn't have access to the promotion codes. So I called the sales guy to tell him my problem. He talked to the installer and then made several more calls. He got me the $75 price, which I will believe when I see the bill.
This is on top of the sales people telling me I could have cable and wireless for $59.95 on the day, a week earlier, when I talked to them, as they were going door to door in my neighborhood drumming up business.
Only it turns out the real price was suddenly $79.95, plus an extra $5.00 for the second cable box when they came back so I could sign the order. That's because $59.95 was only for internet and phone [voice], not for internet and cable. Somewhere in there they tried to work out a $69.95 deal, but that internet speed would be a whole lot slower than the $79.95 speed. Oh wait, that offer is only for six months. Except maybe that's not true either. What's true is that there is NO internet/cable only deal.
Can you say BAIT AND SWITCH? Except that Comcast's promotions are so convoluted and confusing that anybody could screw them up. Not to mention I heard that Comcast just fired a bunch of well-trained people who were making too much money, hired newbies and threw them out there with very little training. These folks don't know what they're offering when they're making the offer. Apparently Comcast has spent all their money paying Shaq and Ben Stein.
So what I thought was a great monthly price at $59.95 for cable and wireless with two tvs and two computers and a one time installation charge of $75, is almost twice that much, what with "neglecting" to inform me of five bucks here, five bucks there and oh, we made a mistake, that should have been. . .
Here's the best part. This "deal" is only good for twelve months. Then you can add $20 per month for a second year. After that I think the cost almost doubles. I smell a plug being pulled.
Meanwhile, the electrician came by and left because he couldn't fix what needed fixing without another electrician along. But the mechanic got the new windshield wiper motor installed. Only without a windshield wiper because he lost it somewhere. And then he broke the wiper on his Jeep, trying to take it off and use it on my car.
Plus, I still can't lock the car unless I want to set off the alarm when I open the door.
The Parade of Turkeys
Every year millions of families across America sit for hours like zombies in front of their television sets, mesmerized by the giant balloons that float above the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. I like to watch in case the wind whips up and a balloon escapes from its handlers like a giant rabid dog, causing untold damage to the people and property below. But that's just me.
This year, parade officials announced that three new balloons will join the long list of iconic helium filled floaters along the route. In the past they have included Bill Clinton's cigar, Cher's tattooed butt, Pam Anderson's siliconed breasts, and any number of Oprah's hairdos. Oh, I kid.
According to Holidash News, which lists the actual parade line-up, both live and latex, the new balloons in town will be: Ronald McDonald, Spiderman, Sailor Mickey and the Pillsbury Doughboy.
Call me crazy, but that's four, not three, right? Maybe having Mickey Mouse in a sailor suit doesn't exactly count as "new," since some form of Mickey or Minnie Mouse is required to appear in every parade in the country as part of Walt Disney's grand plan to control the universe from the grave.
Personally, I think that Ronald McDonald, Spiderman, et al., lack a certain amount of imagination. I'm a Family Guy gal myself. At least I would hope for something in the Sponge Bob Square Pants genre. Regardless, the creative powers that be could have come up with something more exciting to capture our attention.
For instance, I'd fly out to Manhattan and save myself a seat on a curb if I knew that Larry the Cable Guy was one of this year's new balloons. They wouldn't even have to waste a puff of helium to get him flying. He looks like he's been sucking from the tank of gas for years. Speaking of gas tanks, how about a huge Rosie O'Donnell floating overhead? Or is calling Rosie O'Donnell huge just redundant?
Naturally, all this talk about people full of themselves leads me to wonder what a 100 foot long replica of Glenn Beck or Bill O'Reilly would look like. But those gasbags are nothing compared with the thought of having biggest airhead of them all floating overhead. [You knew this was coming.] The infamous Sarah Palin herself.
Talk about the damage that rogue balloon could cause. . .
This year, parade officials announced that three new balloons will join the long list of iconic helium filled floaters along the route. In the past they have included Bill Clinton's cigar, Cher's tattooed butt, Pam Anderson's siliconed breasts, and any number of Oprah's hairdos. Oh, I kid.
According to Holidash News, which lists the actual parade line-up, both live and latex, the new balloons in town will be: Ronald McDonald, Spiderman, Sailor Mickey and the Pillsbury Doughboy.
Call me crazy, but that's four, not three, right? Maybe having Mickey Mouse in a sailor suit doesn't exactly count as "new," since some form of Mickey or Minnie Mouse is required to appear in every parade in the country as part of Walt Disney's grand plan to control the universe from the grave.
Personally, I think that Ronald McDonald, Spiderman, et al., lack a certain amount of imagination. I'm a Family Guy gal myself. At least I would hope for something in the Sponge Bob Square Pants genre. Regardless, the creative powers that be could have come up with something more exciting to capture our attention.
For instance, I'd fly out to Manhattan and save myself a seat on a curb if I knew that Larry the Cable Guy was one of this year's new balloons. They wouldn't even have to waste a puff of helium to get him flying. He looks like he's been sucking from the tank of gas for years. Speaking of gas tanks, how about a huge Rosie O'Donnell floating overhead? Or is calling Rosie O'Donnell huge just redundant?
Naturally, all this talk about people full of themselves leads me to wonder what a 100 foot long replica of Glenn Beck or Bill O'Reilly would look like. But those gasbags are nothing compared with the thought of having biggest airhead of them all floating overhead. [You knew this was coming.] The infamous Sarah Palin herself.
Talk about the damage that rogue balloon could cause. . .
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Auntie Grandma's Bragging Rights
Have I mentioned that I have a five year old niece? Well, let me do it again. I have a five year old niece. She is brilliant, of course, but also very sweet, thoughtful, considerate, and gracious, a number of attributes not often seen in her Auntie Grandma [Mrs. Linklater, in case you were drawing a blank.] But I figure there's still time to toughen her up.
Meanwhile, her proud father [and by extension, his equally proud half-sister] sent these recent photos of the world's most wonderful little girl and her latest accomplishments. I mention that he's my half-bro because we have the same father, but different mothers, so you know whose DNA we point the fickle finger of fate at for our everlasting cynicism.
I offer the top photo as proof of this precious child's mastery of those annoying puzzles that always seem to be missing a piece. She put the damn thing together by herself, so she has already surpassed the abilities of one of her older relatives, who shall remain nameless.
You'll notice from the illustration on the face of the puzzle that she likes princesses. Especially for Halloween. And, I'm happy to report, this year her doting dad made sure she had the best princess costume ever for Trick or Treat night. [Third world seamstresses were working on the embroidery night and day -- I am not kidding.] I don't think her tiara was from Tiffany's, but one never knows.
He learned his lesson after he thought she would look so cute in a Northwestern University cheerleader's outfit the year before. And insisted that she would like wearing it. Look it's purple!! Your dad and Auntie Grandma both went to NU, isn't that great? "NO!" Needless to say, he made her wear it. To let him know what she thought of his cockamammy idea, she refused to march in the Happy Halloween parade at school. "I want to be a PRINCESS!" Yeah. C'mon, Dad!! But he redeemed himself this time around.
Besides the clear evidence of her remarkable skills at spatial recognition [a future architect? engineer? the next Matisse?] I offer two eyewitness water photos as proof of her superior aquatic skills. Brag brag brag brag brag. Not only can she navigate the length of the pool on her front, doing the crawl, but on her back, as well, although I can't tell which one of the regulation strokes she has chosen for this demonstration. I can't wait to be on TV when she competes in the 6 and under Olympics. You'll see me blubbering in the stands, during the national anthem, wearing one of my elastic waistband outfits from Chico's, just like Michael Phelps' mother.
Hey, Annie, you're the best!!! Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!! *KISS* *KISS* Let's do lunch!
Love 'n' hugs,
Auntie Grandma
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Beware of Men with Hairy Faces
Mrs. Linklater has a theory about men who choose to wear beards and mustaches -- they have something to hide.
Unless he's Amish, or he has been requested to grow a beard or a mustache by his significant other, or shaving causes problems with his skin, a guy who chooses to wear hair on his face is keeping a secret.
It could be a personal secret, like something emotionally devastating that happened to him. Those guys tend to wear full beards and have long hair -- like say, ZZ TOP. [I wonder what's going on there?]
Or it could be an evil secret, one that could get him arrested, like addiction, pedophilia, murder, you get the idea.
Which brings me to the police photos above. These men are all members of the same family. Here's what they've been charged with:
. . . the Mohler family were charged. . . with several felonies, including forcible sodomy, rape with a child younger than 12 and use of a child in a sexual performance.
All but one of these All-Americans has a hairy face. Four of them have almost identical beards. One has a goofy mustache [goofy is always a red flag for guys who are bent, particularly a pedophile, in Mrs. Linklater's opinion]. For all we know, the sixth, hair-free guy may have just shaved his beard off as a disguise. Kidding. Just because a guy doesn't have a beard doesn't mean he doesn't have secrets.
But, you have to admit, five out of six beards is a very high percentage, relative to their proclivities.
This isn't Mrs. L's first foray into the world of wonder about men with hairy faces. She has always had questions about Dr. Phil's mustache. As much as she likes what he does on his show, she often contemplated what his secret could be. She even left a note at his website asking what he was hiding. She also asked him to shave it off, since he actually looks better without it, based on photos he has shown on his program. Turns out his father was an alcoholic, something he revealed later rather than earlier in his career. And he was married to someone else before he hooked up with Robin. The ex-Mrs. Phil outed him a few years ago.
So, that's Mrs. Linklater's opinion of the moment. Brought to you as a public service.
You're welcome.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Dear Blogger Editors -- You've Got To Be Kidding
Mrs. Linklater took the time to go deep into her Next Blog links, just to show how STUPID the Blogger people are.
As a reminder, here's what has happened to the Next Blog links:
We've made the Next Blog link more useful, by taking you to a blog that you might like. The new and improved Next Blog link will now take you to a blog with similar content, in a language that you understand. If you are reading a Spanish blog about food, the Next Blog link will likely take you to another blog about food. In Spanish!
Like I said, apparently Blogger thinks my blog is about cancer and rare diseases, death and dying. Here is a list of the types of blogs that came up when I clicked on Next Blog:
Cancer
A baby with a bad heart who died
Somebody with Lyme disease
A premie's blog
A doctor's blog
A nurse's blog
A kid allergic to peanuts
Some woman on an orthognathic adventure
A doc
A beauty queen with arthritis
Breast cancer
Ovarian cancer
Cancer
Died of cancer
Neuroblastoma
Lung Cancer
Cancer
Colon cancer
Guy who died of cancer
Cancer
Cancer
Diabetes
A photography blog -- how did that get in there?
Flu
Disease research and information
Casts
A family blog -- no one dying or dead or anything, just a family blog, obviously a mistake
Rosacea
Polish photography blog -- a really good one with butterflies, flowers and no mention of cancer
Photo blog, not as good as the Polish blog
A repeat of one of the earlier cancer blogs
Doctor's cancer blog
Lymphoma
Cancer
Leukemia kid
Another repeat of a cancer blog
Lymphoma. . .
Seriously, this sucks.
As a reminder, here's what has happened to the Next Blog links:
We've made the Next Blog link more useful, by taking you to a blog that you might like. The new and improved Next Blog link will now take you to a blog with similar content, in a language that you understand. If you are reading a Spanish blog about food, the Next Blog link will likely take you to another blog about food. In Spanish!
Like I said, apparently Blogger thinks my blog is about cancer and rare diseases, death and dying. Here is a list of the types of blogs that came up when I clicked on Next Blog:
Cancer
A baby with a bad heart who died
Somebody with Lyme disease
A premie's blog
A doctor's blog
A nurse's blog
A kid allergic to peanuts
Some woman on an orthognathic adventure
A doc
A beauty queen with arthritis
Breast cancer
Ovarian cancer
Cancer
Died of cancer
Neuroblastoma
Lung Cancer
Cancer
Colon cancer
Guy who died of cancer
Cancer
Cancer
Diabetes
A photography blog -- how did that get in there?
Flu
Disease research and information
Casts
A family blog -- no one dying or dead or anything, just a family blog, obviously a mistake
Rosacea
Polish photography blog -- a really good one with butterflies, flowers and no mention of cancer
Photo blog, not as good as the Polish blog
A repeat of one of the earlier cancer blogs
Doctor's cancer blog
Lymphoma
Cancer
Leukemia kid
Another repeat of a cancer blog
Lymphoma. . .
Seriously, this sucks.
An Open Letter To The Editors of Blogger Whoever and Wherever You Are
Please crawl back into your holes and stop thinking you know what I like.
The people who run Blogger have a couple of tabs for those of us who blog on Blogspot. They're located on our "dashboard," and show up after we check into our blogs with our usernames and secret passwords.
One tab is called Blogs of Note. The other is called Blogger Buzz. I began checking out Blogs of Note when my favorite AOL blogs stopped posting after moving over here. Or they posted so infrequently they might as well have stopped.
Blogs of Note changes quite often and I think that some of the chosen ones are rather entertaining. I'll even pimp a few with links some day. But not now, I'm too pissed off. However, so you can compare and contrast what I'm bitching about, Blogs of Note recently included one about owl tattoos, with the disclaimer that they are tattoos "of" owls, not tattoos "on" them. I am not into tattoos, but I found that interesting.
Another one called Nymphont was all about the fonts that some blogger creates, which anybody can use for free. I'm in the creative end of advertising so that was very interesting.
And there was a notable blog about table settings. That blog would have exactly one entry, if it were mine. But the author actually put together an entry with plates, glasses, and knives, forks and spoons from 1961, so you could have a Mad Men party. With a picture, no less. It got my attention.
So it's not Blogs of Note that I don't like. It's the Blogger Buzz that I have a major beef with. That's the blog written by Blogger geeks who use it to keep us informed about how they fix the messes they make.
Here's a recent mess they've made, written in their own words:
We've made the Next Blog link more useful, by taking you to a blog that you might like. The new and improved Next Blog link will now take you to a blog with similar content, in a language that you understand. If you are reading a Spanish blog about food, the Next Blog link will likely take you to another blog about food. In Spanish!
You might discover a cool blogger who has hobbies similar to yours, has similar taste in electronic gadgets, likes sports that you're into, or has similar curiosities and interests. We will finish rolling out the new and improved Next Blog link over the next week and hope that you will enjoy discovering blogs that are likely to interest you.
Oh please. You don't know me. I LIKED the randomness of the Next Blog. Sure, the strange languages that popped up were somewhat problematic. But for the most part it was fun to see what the rest of the world was up to. Even if I couldn't always read what they were talking about.
Not any more. The powers that be have taken my freedom away. THEY have decided that THEY know what I am interested in.
F**k.
In my case, that means EVERY SINGLE BLOG I click on in my Next Blog link is about weird illnesses and the people who die from them. The "editors" must have stopped by during my hip surgery phase and assumed that I like nothing better than reading about people with medical problems. Okay, I do have an interest in medical stuff. But not 24/7/365.
Then, for some reason, THEY decided I would not only like to read about medical stuff, I would like to read ONLY about weird orphan diseases. One after another after another. Orphan diseases are the rare diseases that nobody funds. Whose victims are usually babies or small children. The blogs are about kids who are dying or already dead, I might add. Wonderful.
Even worse -- no sports. No humor. No cops. No cowboys. No artists. No authors. No Gerard Butler. Just blog after blog about helpless, dying children. Is there a reason THEY couldn't choose something more relevant to a 66 year old woman with new hips and a history of wellness checks? At least something more orthopedic?
So, Blogger editors, wherever you are, stop trying to figure me out. Because you haven't got a clue. DID IT EVERY OCCUR TO YOU THAT I LIKE RANDOMNESS? Leave my Next Blog links alone PUH-LEASE. [I realize this is not an option, since once they make decisions like this they are FOR-FARKING-EVER.]
I have no use for control freak geeks who think they they know what I like based on some key words in my blog.
You people are idiots.
Uh-oh, now I'm going to start getting links about Sarah Palin.
The people who run Blogger have a couple of tabs for those of us who blog on Blogspot. They're located on our "dashboard," and show up after we check into our blogs with our usernames and secret passwords.
One tab is called Blogs of Note. The other is called Blogger Buzz. I began checking out Blogs of Note when my favorite AOL blogs stopped posting after moving over here. Or they posted so infrequently they might as well have stopped.
Blogs of Note changes quite often and I think that some of the chosen ones are rather entertaining. I'll even pimp a few with links some day. But not now, I'm too pissed off. However, so you can compare and contrast what I'm bitching about, Blogs of Note recently included one about owl tattoos, with the disclaimer that they are tattoos "of" owls, not tattoos "on" them. I am not into tattoos, but I found that interesting.
Another one called Nymphont was all about the fonts that some blogger creates, which anybody can use for free. I'm in the creative end of advertising so that was very interesting.
And there was a notable blog about table settings. That blog would have exactly one entry, if it were mine. But the author actually put together an entry with plates, glasses, and knives, forks and spoons from 1961, so you could have a Mad Men party. With a picture, no less. It got my attention.
So it's not Blogs of Note that I don't like. It's the Blogger Buzz that I have a major beef with. That's the blog written by Blogger geeks who use it to keep us informed about how they fix the messes they make.
Here's a recent mess they've made, written in their own words:
We've made the Next Blog link more useful, by taking you to a blog that you might like. The new and improved Next Blog link will now take you to a blog with similar content, in a language that you understand. If you are reading a Spanish blog about food, the Next Blog link will likely take you to another blog about food. In Spanish!
You might discover a cool blogger who has hobbies similar to yours, has similar taste in electronic gadgets, likes sports that you're into, or has similar curiosities and interests. We will finish rolling out the new and improved Next Blog link over the next week and hope that you will enjoy discovering blogs that are likely to interest you.
Oh please. You don't know me. I LIKED the randomness of the Next Blog. Sure, the strange languages that popped up were somewhat problematic. But for the most part it was fun to see what the rest of the world was up to. Even if I couldn't always read what they were talking about.
Not any more. The powers that be have taken my freedom away. THEY have decided that THEY know what I am interested in.
F**k.
In my case, that means EVERY SINGLE BLOG I click on in my Next Blog link is about weird illnesses and the people who die from them. The "editors" must have stopped by during my hip surgery phase and assumed that I like nothing better than reading about people with medical problems. Okay, I do have an interest in medical stuff. But not 24/7/365.
Then, for some reason, THEY decided I would not only like to read about medical stuff, I would like to read ONLY about weird orphan diseases. One after another after another. Orphan diseases are the rare diseases that nobody funds. Whose victims are usually babies or small children. The blogs are about kids who are dying or already dead, I might add. Wonderful.
Even worse -- no sports. No humor. No cops. No cowboys. No artists. No authors. No Gerard Butler. Just blog after blog about helpless, dying children. Is there a reason THEY couldn't choose something more relevant to a 66 year old woman with new hips and a history of wellness checks? At least something more orthopedic?
So, Blogger editors, wherever you are, stop trying to figure me out. Because you haven't got a clue. DID IT EVERY OCCUR TO YOU THAT I LIKE RANDOMNESS? Leave my Next Blog links alone PUH-LEASE. [I realize this is not an option, since once they make decisions like this they are FOR-FARKING-EVER.]
I have no use for control freak geeks who think they they know what I like based on some key words in my blog.
You people are idiots.
Uh-oh, now I'm going to start getting links about Sarah Palin.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Fa la la la la la la la la
The Great Lakes Dredge and Philharmonic Society Goes Caroling
Tomorrow night I have been invited to attend the 75th anniversary celebration dinner for "The Dredge," a group of Chicago men, all of whom seem to bear a striking resemblance to Ebenezer Scrooge. They generally gather together during the Christmas Season to wear top hats, wrap their necks in old school scarves, and sing Christmas carols about town. This 75th anniversary event is such an auspicious occasion that members, former members, friends, and families are coming from all over the country to meet at an esteemed private club on Chicago's near north side.
Most in the group have educational pedigrees of the prep school and Ivy League type, which means they tend to be of the caucasion persuasion, which also means that the odds of them not being Episcopalian are astronomical. So you can be sure there will be no modern versions of the tried and true carols they plan to sing. No hip hop renditions of Silent Night, Babe or Deck the Halls, Sucka. Not that I wouldn't pay money to hear them pull something like that off.
I received a surprise invitation to attend the event from an old boyfriend and former member of The Dredge, who now lives in Dallas. He's is probably the most socially acceptable person I have ever known, with the manners of an Edwardian prince, the charming repartee of a politician, the education of a college professor, and a family genealogy that makes him only 20,594th in line for the throne. Which is why this invitation is so unexpected, given Mrs. Linklater's mouth busy schedule. But, I think he just wants to see if I really can walk like everybody says, since I got my new hips. And what better place to try me out than in public at a party where good behavior is expected.
Has he thought this through? Taking me may be like asking Roseanne to sing the National Anthem. And we all know what happened with that.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Sometimes You Just Gotta Vent
Yesterday I was at a Big Ten game. To stay in the playoff hunt, team A would have to beat team B. I was rooting for team A. However, team A had been having problems on special teams all season, with fumbles and missed tackles.
The game began with team A fumbling on the first handoff and giving team B a touchdown after only seven seconds of play. Nice start. However Team A came right back to tie it, 7-7. In fact, they were up by eleven points with eleven minutes to go in the fourth quarter, 34-23.
Once again, team A's special teams forgot how to tackle and team B scored 14 unanswered points after long kick off/punt returns.
Team B was now up 37-34. Team A managed to get a field goal. Game tied, 37-37.
Instead of trying an onside kick, Team A kicked off to team B. Team B rolled over team A's special team players again and almost returned the kickoff for a touchdown. Now it was first and goal for team B. Team A's defense managed to hold team B to a field goal. Score 40-37. The clock was ticking down.
With little over a minute to go, team A still had a chance to tie the game, maybe win it. Their kicker had made a record setting 59-yard field goal a few weeks earlier. Their quarterback was hitting his receivers with regularity. Even though the kick off and punt return teams were not carrying their weight, anything was possible.
Oops. Nevermind. Game over. Team A loses. All hopes of a bowl go down the tubes.
In the locker room, after the game, one of the starting players, a senior, went up to the Special Teams coach and screamed in his face, "You should be fired!!!" A player who was standing nearby told me about the outburst.
I think his frustration spoke not only for the team, but for a stadium full of fans. And not just for this one game, but for the whole season.
The game began with team A fumbling on the first handoff and giving team B a touchdown after only seven seconds of play. Nice start. However Team A came right back to tie it, 7-7. In fact, they were up by eleven points with eleven minutes to go in the fourth quarter, 34-23.
Once again, team A's special teams forgot how to tackle and team B scored 14 unanswered points after long kick off/punt returns.
Team B was now up 37-34. Team A managed to get a field goal. Game tied, 37-37.
Instead of trying an onside kick, Team A kicked off to team B. Team B rolled over team A's special team players again and almost returned the kickoff for a touchdown. Now it was first and goal for team B. Team A's defense managed to hold team B to a field goal. Score 40-37. The clock was ticking down.
With little over a minute to go, team A still had a chance to tie the game, maybe win it. Their kicker had made a record setting 59-yard field goal a few weeks earlier. Their quarterback was hitting his receivers with regularity. Even though the kick off and punt return teams were not carrying their weight, anything was possible.
Oops. Nevermind. Game over. Team A loses. All hopes of a bowl go down the tubes.
In the locker room, after the game, one of the starting players, a senior, went up to the Special Teams coach and screamed in his face, "You should be fired!!!" A player who was standing nearby told me about the outburst.
I think his frustration spoke not only for the team, but for a stadium full of fans. And not just for this one game, but for the whole season.
A Hunnert an' Fiddy-two Smackaroos
$152 bucks. Yep, that's what it cost me to have the furnace guy come out and light my brand new furnace and hot water heater. Apparently this task was "too dangerous" [i.e. too much potential liability] for the gas company to attempt.
Plus I had to fork out another twenty something bucks for a furnace filter, which I had to go out and purchase myself.
The skills required for lighting the fires included bleeding the air out of the gas pipes and flipping a couple of switches. Apparently I don't even have a pilot light on my furnace. What? No discount?
For this I paid a $92 trip fee. I noticed that the trip to my house took fifteen minutes. The other $60 was for fifteen minutes of labor. It took him longer to fill out the paper work afterward.
On a happier note, I got home later to discover that the pile of dirt left by the gas company during their dig was gone, replaced by a lovely, well-planted, bright green patch of sod. Apparently the gas company will clean up after itself. Who knew? Seeing my new lawn as I turned into the driveway was such a surprise -- like having a secret Santa. Now if only I could come home and discover that the living room was freshly painted. And the floors re-finished. Did I mention I'd love roast beef for dinner tonight?
Plus I had to fork out another twenty something bucks for a furnace filter, which I had to go out and purchase myself.
The skills required for lighting the fires included bleeding the air out of the gas pipes and flipping a couple of switches. Apparently I don't even have a pilot light on my furnace. What? No discount?
For this I paid a $92 trip fee. I noticed that the trip to my house took fifteen minutes. The other $60 was for fifteen minutes of labor. It took him longer to fill out the paper work afterward.
On a happier note, I got home later to discover that the pile of dirt left by the gas company during their dig was gone, replaced by a lovely, well-planted, bright green patch of sod. Apparently the gas company will clean up after itself. Who knew? Seeing my new lawn as I turned into the driveway was such a surprise -- like having a secret Santa. Now if only I could come home and discover that the living room was freshly painted. And the floors re-finished. Did I mention I'd love roast beef for dinner tonight?
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Come On Baby, Light My Fire
Mrs. Linklater's New Gas Meter
On Wednesday I stayed home in the morning so the gas company could install a new valve at the main and, most importantly, light my new hot water heater and furnace.
A crew of three showed up at nine AM-ish with two trucks. One of trucks was carrying a backhoe. Before the first hour was up, a member of the crew started using it to dig up the dirt pile left by the last crew. He was on a mission to locate the main. Again. It turns out he was the digger last time, too. What fun for him to come back and do it a second time.
The other two were inside the house. They were going to disconnect my indoor meter and install a brand new one outside. I wouldn't have to do my own meter readings ever again.
This was new information, not unwelcome, but unexpected. The old meter had just had a major part replaced, at the gas company's request, but now they were coming back to undo the redo so they could do even more -- completely remove and replace it.
"As long you'll turn on the hot water heater and furnace when you're done," I reminded them. No problem.
The guy in the hole dug for two hours, first with the backhoe, then with a shovel. There was a five foot pile of dirt in the front yard when he finally reached the main.
Then I learned the crew wasn't going to put in a valve; they were going to replace all the old pipe that led from the parkway to the house with new yellow plastic pipe that is more weather and people proof. That required help from two more people in another truck. They would be arriving with a special drill that makes pipe-sized holes from the main to the house. That way, the yard wouldn't look like rodents or a backhoe had chewed it all up.
Did I mention more trucks?
"So, is this an all day gig?" I asked the guy deep down in the hole, when the crew count was up to five or so and there were now four monster trucks lining the street. I was inappropriately happy that certain neighbors might be inconvenienced, perhaps even pissed off by all the utility do-dah.
"Could you guys turn on your engines and blow exhaust into my neighbors' houses for me? You know, really annoy them?"
At first I thought the work would be done by noon. I didn't think it would take all day to put in a valve and light my fires. So I made plans to be downtown for a work thing at 2:15. Are we doing to be here all day? Yep, pretty much, the guy in the hole told me.
"But you'll turn on the furnace and hot water heater before you go, right?" Right.
Back at the house, holes had to be drilled through the brick to accommodate the gas pipe going into the house from the new outside meter. To attach the meter to the pipe, yet another person had to come out to weld them together. More people. More trucks.
The good news was that the house crew finished threading the pipe from inside the house through the hole in the brick to the outside. That meant I could lock up and go downtown by noon. The crew could continue work outside, installing the meter and threading the new pipe from the main, until I came back around 4:00 PM.
"Then you'll go inside and light the furnace and the hot water heater?" Yes, they would, when I got back.
I got back around 4:15. The smiling crew proudly showed me the new gas meter on the side of the house. It was HUGE. "That thing is huge." That's how they look now, I was told.
I have the smallest house in the neighborhood. It is the only house that is still the same size it was on the day it was built. All the rest have additions or they've been torn down for McMansions. This new meter looks like truck tires on a VW.
But the good news is that I was about to get about a thousand dollars of new equipment for free. With fresh paint to hide the weld marks on the meter pipes and make everything all matchy matchy.
They finished up around 6:00 in the dark. Big, bright work lights lit up the yard and the street as they filled the five foot hole in the parkway again.
"So. Time to light the heat and furnace?" I was going to have heat and hot water any minute now.
Oh that. We called and our supervisor told us we can't light new appliances that haven't ever been used. We can only re-light old ones. You'll have to have the installers light them up, make sure everything's working properly.
"You just found this out now? Wait a minute, the installers told me you could light them when the gas was turned on."
Sorry for the misinformation.
Now after all that, I have to wait some more.
This just gets better and better.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
My Gas Company is Full of Hot Air
Mrs. Linklater's front yard
I have to write this down or I'll forget the details.
- Unlike newer homes, my gas meter is inside the house. And there is no easy-to-reach on/off access valve to the gas main located outside the house on the parkway.
- Because of the broken pipe in the basement ceiling last January, I had the gas company [NICOR GAS, in case they read this] come out and turn off the gas from inside the house. The water and electric were also off. Since it was winter, I moved out of the house for the time being, because I was also about to have two surgeries/rehab.
- In May the gas company was going through the neighborhood replacing meter parts that had been deemed dangerous because of mercury. I told them I wouldn't be around until the fall to let them in. "Well we'll have to turn off your gas until we can get in there," they said. "But it's already been turned off from the inside," I said.
- They didn't care. Or believe me. In June they came back to shut off the gas to the house for a second time. This time from the parkway. They would turn it back on after they could get into the house and swap out the mercury. Shutting off the gas from the outside entailed digging a hole in the grass on the parkway to locate the main, because, like I said, there is no convenient on/off valve.
- In September a technician came out to replace the evil mercury part from the meter inside the house. And turn on the gas. The tech informed me that she poked around in the pile of dirt on the parkway to see if they had put in a valve when they turned off the gas in May. They hadn't. That would have been too easy. Naturally, without something big to dig with, she couldn't find the gas main. So the gas couldn't be turned on.
- She said that I had to call again, so a crew with the proper equipment could come out to install a valve and turn the gas on. They would also make sure that all the gas pipes inside the house for the new hot water heater and furnace were installed and working properly.
- On Thursday, two days ago, the gas company was scheduled to come by and turn on the gas inside and outside the house. The day before, I reminded them on the phone not to forget to send a crew to locate the main and install an on/off valve on the parkway in the dirt pile where they had dug before. I had another contractor coming between 5 and 7. So I was happy to hear that the gas company could come out between 4 and 8.
- At 7:00 or so, after the contractor came and went, I called the gas company to ask where the crew was. I was told that they had been out and I wasn't there.
- "But I've been here the entire time. When did they come?"
- "Noon."
- So we set up another appointment for the next day, also between 4 and 8.
- In the morning I called the gas company to remind them that they needed to send a crew to dig down for the gas main on the parkway and install a valve before they could turn on the gas in the house. Is there an echo in here?
- At six, a lone tech showed up. In the dark. I told her she wouldn't be able to find the gas line in the parkway because there wasn't a valve. Did I mention it was dark? She tried poking around for a valve in the middle of my lawn. I pointed out the area on the parkway where the crew had dug before. And told her that the other tech had already confirmed the lack of a valve. Oh. She still tried to find one.
- "You need a crew out here."
- "I know."
- And the "crew" that had come out the day before? At noon for a 4 to 8 appointment? One tech. All alone.
- Now that the dispatcher finally figured out that I wasn't kidding about needing a crew to come, it turns out they can't send them until this Wednesday. Why? Because first, a different crew has to come out to confirm that the pile of dirt that they dug up previously to locate the main is, in fact, the same pile of dirt that they have to dig up again.
- I can't wait.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Quick, Edna, Get the Gun!!
[actual size]
This is what my friends in LA saw today when they were in the kitchen preparing organic tofu sandwiches for lunch and happened to look out the window. Looks like a killer deer to me.
My Desk Where I'm Working
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
What I'm Doing When I Should Be Working
From time to time Mrs. Linklater notices similarities between people that she feels compelled to point out. Today, for instance, she noticed that Craig Ferguson, the much later night host who follows Letterman, and Michael Weatherly, who plays DiNozzo on NCIS may have been separated at birth.
And now back to your regularly scheduled life.
Mrs. Linklater's Movie Exclusive...Sorta Kinda
Since most of Mrs. Linklater's readers have the attention span of a gnat, let's cut to the chase -- here's a link to Yahoo's exclusive low res look at the brand new, fresh out of the box trailer for HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON, a powerful, urban docudrama starring Bruce Willis as a rogue cop who adopts an abandoned Komodo dragon, left to fend for itself on the. . . kidding.
Bruce Willis isn't in it.
But Gerard Butler from "300" is. Seriously. Okay, his voice.
You can see the Yahoo trailer for HTTYD here:
BUT WAIT!! Before you go mindlessly clicking on Yahoo's link, don't forget Mrs. Linklater has yet to reveal her own exclusive -- see, up there, mentioned in the title of this entry?
Now you have a choice. You can choose to go watch the trailer right this minute, over at Yahoo, like little kids who can't wait to play with a new toy.
Or you can be mature and wait to view the exact same trailer, only in high res, at Mrs. Linklater's EXCLUSIVE LINK [exclusive for at least ten more minutes] to the HTTYD web site, which will go LIVE sometime today.
http://www.howtotrainyourdragon.com/
Of course, even though she can't say exactly WHEN the site will go live, she has it on good authority that TODAY IS THE DAY. And if you have a choice between watching a trailer on Yahoo or the movie site, always take the movie site, not that Mrs. Linklater is biased or anything.
So what's it gonna be -- low res Yahoo or Mrs. Linklater's exclusive high res link to the movie site? Well, duh. Ah, but in the interest of fairness, before you decide, read what Mrs. Linklater has to say about the HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON trailer:
It's two minutes and thirty seconds long. You want more?
All right. The 2:30 trailer is absolute proof that HTTYD is just the latest, and dare we suggest "greatest" from those wild and crazy computer animation guys at DreamWorks, the ones who brought you SHREKS 1 through 3 and soon, 4, as well as KUNG FU PANDA.
Think about it, those animated films single-handedly proved that Mike Myers and Jack Black aren't just a couple of pretty faces, they can do major voice schtick, too. Well, Mike Myers can. Jack Black sounded like, um, Jack Black.
At first HTTYD may seem like the heartwarming story of a boy and his dragon, with undertones of rebellion against parental authority, and a side order of boy meets girl, plus a whole political subtext.
But on second viewing, Mrs. L said, "Oh I get it, a charming movie the whole family will enjoy, with a gentle lesson in humanity for the kiddies, and some clever inside jokes to keep Mom and Dad from nodding off."
However, regardless of what Mrs. Linklater thinks, shouldn't the mere mention of HTTYD in the same breath as the wildly successful Panda movie, and the unbridled popularity of the Shrek franchise be reason enough to make your plans for the March 2010 opening NOW?
But first, another reminder to watch the trailer at Mrs. Linklater's exclusive [for now] link:
http://www.howtotrainyourdragon.com/
Bruce Willis isn't in it.
But Gerard Butler from "300" is. Seriously. Okay, his voice.
You can see the Yahoo trailer for HTTYD here:
BUT WAIT!! Before you go mindlessly clicking on Yahoo's link, don't forget Mrs. Linklater has yet to reveal her own exclusive -- see, up there, mentioned in the title of this entry?
Now you have a choice. You can choose to go watch the trailer right this minute, over at Yahoo, like little kids who can't wait to play with a new toy.
Or you can be mature and wait to view the exact same trailer, only in high res, at Mrs. Linklater's EXCLUSIVE LINK [exclusive for at least ten more minutes] to the HTTYD web site, which will go LIVE sometime today.
http://www.howtotrainyourdragon.com/
Of course, even though she can't say exactly WHEN the site will go live, she has it on good authority that TODAY IS THE DAY. And if you have a choice between watching a trailer on Yahoo or the movie site, always take the movie site, not that Mrs. Linklater is biased or anything.
So what's it gonna be -- low res Yahoo or Mrs. Linklater's exclusive high res link to the movie site? Well, duh. Ah, but in the interest of fairness, before you decide, read what Mrs. Linklater has to say about the HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON trailer:
It's two minutes and thirty seconds long. You want more?
All right. The 2:30 trailer is absolute proof that HTTYD is just the latest, and dare we suggest "greatest" from those wild and crazy computer animation guys at DreamWorks, the ones who brought you SHREKS 1 through 3 and soon, 4, as well as KUNG FU PANDA.
Think about it, those animated films single-handedly proved that Mike Myers and Jack Black aren't just a couple of pretty faces, they can do major voice schtick, too. Well, Mike Myers can. Jack Black sounded like, um, Jack Black.
At first HTTYD may seem like the heartwarming story of a boy and his dragon, with undertones of rebellion against parental authority, and a side order of boy meets girl, plus a whole political subtext.
But on second viewing, Mrs. L said, "Oh I get it, a charming movie the whole family will enjoy, with a gentle lesson in humanity for the kiddies, and some clever inside jokes to keep Mom and Dad from nodding off."
However, regardless of what Mrs. Linklater thinks, shouldn't the mere mention of HTTYD in the same breath as the wildly successful Panda movie, and the unbridled popularity of the Shrek franchise be reason enough to make your plans for the March 2010 opening NOW?
But first, another reminder to watch the trailer at Mrs. Linklater's exclusive [for now] link:
http://www.howtotrainyourdragon.com/
Monday, November 2, 2009
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