Posts Tagged With: documents

What IS the appropriate idiom in this situation?

Yesterday my computer bought the farm.
Is that idiom even appropriate in this situation? I think not.
Honestly, I’d be better off saying my computer committed suicide.
Just up and died. Couldn’t even be bothered to leave a note.

The Pythons in my brain did an entire sketch about it.

“‘E’s not pinin’! ‘E’s passed on! This computer is no more! He has ceased to be! ‘E’s expired and gone to meet ‘is maker! ‘E’s a stiff! Bereft of life, ‘e rests in peace! If you hadn’t nailed ‘im to the perch ‘e’d be pushing up the daisies! ‘Is metabolic processes are now ‘istory! ‘E’s off the twig! ‘E’s kicked the bucket, ‘e’s shuffled off ‘is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin’ choir invisible!! THIS IS AN EX-COMPUTER!!”

(Now that’s a load of idioms!)

To say I was frustrated would be an understatement. Have y’all heard the expression “I’m about as frustrated as a crackhead without a lighter.”? Yeah…that was me.

Everything was lost. Every. Single. Thing.
All the words I’ve written in the last how-ever-many years.
All the music I’ve spent my lifetime accumulating.
All the photos I’ve taken in the last six years.

I was actually planning to back up all my stuff but my external hard drive is still filled with music for Thing 2 and I thought I had time…
A Willow quote comes to mind. “Irony’s kind of ironic that way.”
Even though this isn’t really irony.

I felt like Carrie Bradshaw.

My precious husband immediately stopped what he was doing and devoted his entire day to trying to suss out what he could salvage. Seriously y’all, that sweet man spent the whole damn day trying to rescue my photos, writing, and music.
I got after researching new computers on my ipad (mini).
A couple hours later, he was feeling pretty confident that he’d been able to get my documents and music, and was seeing what he could do to recover my photos.
HOORAY!
The day was saved…thanks to…the Powerpuff Girls!

No no no!
The day was saved…thanks to…YBW!

I then presented him with a couple laptops I thought I’d like. With a little ‘computer guru’ advice and some tweaking of what I thought I wanted, we narrowed it down to a choice of three. Braving the frigid temperatures, we went to Micro Center. Turns out after typing on all three, the one I thought I most wanted was the I liked least. (Y’all hear Willow’s voice again too, right?)

Today, I have a brand spanking new laptop upon which I will load and edit pics. And write. And listen to tunage. And read. And learn. And create. And shop. And all the other very Robynbird stuff.

YBW decided it wasn’t worth trying to see if he could reboot the old one.
Whole lotta “Bye Felicia.” going on there.
RIP Toshiba.

Dell, I think this is the beginning…well, y’all know the rest…

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adventures in our governmental system

I went to the local Social Security Administration office this afternoon to have my name change processed.
I went to the office because it’s only about ten minutes from home and I could use the necessary documents without having to give them up for any length of time.
I had absolutely no idea what to expect when I got there…but what I found made the “great unwashed” who frequent the local DMV office seem as pristine as angels.
I was hit with the stench of rank body odor and urine as I walked through the door. Babies were screaming (and I mean SCREAMING!), people were near-shouting in at least four different languages. And the security guard asked the same six people to “keep this area clear” five different times before they chose to move.
After checking in at the computer to get my service number, I sat between a woman and her mother, by best guess is they were Indian (from India, not American Indians) and two little Spanish speaking girls who played a quiet “chopsticks” like hand game to entertain themselves. They smelled of pee pants, but were quiet. (One out of two ain’t bad.) The Indian ladies were each reading a book. The babies never stopped screaming.

There I sat with my little folder containing my passport, current SS card, birth certificate, and the shiny new marriage certificate feeling increasingly anti”great American melting pot”. (Thank you Schoolhouse Rock.)
I’m not a racist. I’m not anti-immigration. I mean, we all have ancestors from somewhere outside the borders of the US…but as I listened to the questions about medicare and medicaid benefits from individuals who, at that very moment, were applying for social security cards…my hackles went up a little.

I’m not going to soapbox about this.
We all know it’s not my hot-button issue.
Immigration is what it is.
I’m lucky enough to be born American for all the good it does.

When the man finally called D494 I leapt from the seat and followed him through the door as quickly as I could without trampling any of the screaming babies.
I presented him with all my documents and he stapled my old card to my application handed me a receipt and thanked me for having everything I needed before sending me on my way.
A Social Security card with my new name should arrive in my mailbox in seven to ten days and I only sacrificed two and a half hours of my life in that waiting room.
I’ll consider it an adventure!
I did come home and take a shower though…I felt like the smell clung to me and I just couldn’t abide that.

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