you know, i'm not really sad to see the first week of the new year come to an end.

i don't know about you, but i was discombobulated all week long. i couldn't remember what day it was, what my work schedule was, or what day it was. wait, did i say that already?

shizzle.

i fell short this week of the copy goal, but i'm confident (i know, famous last words, but i really mean it) i can make it, possibly even exceeding it, this coming week.

i can knock one off in about an hour, which is a two hour improvement. my goal is two per hour.

onward.

****

in a Major Geek-Move (similar to that one-legged jumpy thingy karate peeps do) i fixed the major inventory boo-boo we had on the eighteenth of february. for some reason we were overbooked by ninety-two rooms.

yes, i was messing with the group block function that doesn't work worth a flat fiddler's f*ck since the Almighty Update (gods rot your eyeballs, Bill G!) but the procedure i performed (ooooo, sounds KINKY!) was nothing different than what i'd done a hundred times before. only now, since the Almighty Update, our OS gets her panties all in a bunch and it throws the whole inventory off.

re-sync. just like an iPod. from the server.

i won't remember tomorrow how to do it, but today, i did it.

****

thank you, Customer Support. thank you for speaking english, thank you for being patient, thank you for laughing at my lame attempts at humor. thank you for walking me through it and letting me do it from my end, finding my own rhythm, instead of wresting control, clicking my mouse, and opening and fondling my folders for your own fulfilment. thank you for watching me achieve total gratification from manipulating my own data and reaching a most satisfying conclusion, while providing a safe, warm haven in which to collapse in a post-g33k glow.

****

*phew*.

it got hawt in here.

srsly.

****

you know, sue has a great post about the historical values of keeping a journal, and this also ties in with the current work i'm doing about spiritual and ethical wills.

i try to imagine what my heirs of the future might think of this blog and what is found here. if any of this will make sense, or if it will all appear alien, or worse, unhip. 'cuz peeps, we gotsta be cool, y'all.

heh.

sorry. i become distracted easily by shiny things.

i would love to read a blog or journal by my mother, grandmother, great-grandmother. or father, for that matter. (i bet more women than men journal or blog.) i think that would be totally fascinating. how they washed their clothes, or cooked, how they felt about being a woman in a man's world, what they did for fun. who they gossiped about, who their heroines were, what dark fantasies lurked under modest bosoms?

how they shaped their time or how they were shaped by it.

it's hard to imagine my grandmother as a young girl. from what i've been able to piece together from talks over the years with momma, my grandmother was the eldest of several children (may have been as many as seven, i don't remember.) when her mother died, she was thirteen, i believe, and went to work as a servant girl in a wealthy businessman's home. she tried to keep the family together, but her father took to drinking and the children were placed in either foster care or an orphanage. this cause no small amount of resentment from the children so placed over the years. all except for the youngest. my grandmother still had dealings of an amicable nature with him, as did my mom. i met him a few times.

anyway, at sixteen my grandmother became pregnant, presumably by the businessman. (this is all a little murky, as you must imagine. my momma told me she got the bulk of the story from my great-aunt, whom i adored.)enter my grandfather -- a cocky italian boy. he and my grandmother got married, although i do not know the story behind that. my grandfather was handsome and young, my grandmother pregnant and in disgrace. had she slept with my grandfather before marriage? did he think the baby was his? did he not care? (that seems unlikely, given the italian culture and the times.)did my grandmother have that much of a siren quality? (she was VERY catholic -- *Polish* catholic, can you dig it.)

was she forced? she LOVED my uncle, he was her favorite and no bones were made about it, so that seems unlikely. and he definitely was NOT my grandfather's son.

it's a mystery.

****

my grandparents had two more children, a boy and a girl about a year apart. my momma and hers did not have a good relationship until toward the end of my grandmother's life. i think they were able to heal some of the hurts they inflicted upon each other, and that is a Very Good Thing.

my grandparents divorced when my mother graduated high school. he remarried; she never did.

****

my grandmother was a very closed and cold woman, and given the circumstances of her life, i can understand a little better. i wish i knew more about her...how she felt, what she thought, why she acted the way she did. in a way, i think it would help me to understand myself better, and it might take away some of the guilt of thinking some of it was my fault. see, the little one inside thinks everything is her fault.

****

now where the hell did all THAT come from?

sheesh.

****

this reminds me of my other grandparents, and i'll write about them, too. it might be interesting to my kidlets to read what i know. not tonight; this blog is long and boring enough.

maybe i'll stick to copy.

****

and since it's friday night:

watch for the Harry Potter Happy Dance, and i swear to god that's Lo with the cows and Scout on the beach.

*gigglesnort*

watch it all and don't smile. i dare you.




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