May 21, 2005
My Beautiful Internets
Finally, FINALLY, the Cable Guy came to my house today to fix the Internets. I have had to reschedule this appointment with happiness twice -- once for a wedding in which I spent a whole day crying and mumbling about the perilous nature of evil and marriage, and another day in which I had to stay late at work because there was a graphic design emergency. Who knew. "Gimme a logo... THIS VERY MINUTE! Or else the world will stop spinning on its axis and we will DIE!!!"
Art is hard.
So, yes, happiness. Working Internets. No more phone cord strung around the house that I have to try to hide with throw rugs, towels and laundry because someone tries to attack it (Bob, Frankie, Roy, Soba) (and my clumsy feet).
Today I also got to try out one of my new Life Lessons. Because if you've been reading any part of this website for 14 seconds you have discovered that me? I attract the crazies. My forehead, which is quite large, must have some pheremone-ish billboard of nuttiness displayed that attracts crazy people like ants to sugar. And I have grown to love it. It makes my normally boring, mundane life full of funny. It also makes getting the Internets fixed a real pleasure.
Back in December when I moved to Chez Spinster, the Cable Guy came and installed the Internets and gave me the hookup to my best friend, Teevee. Apparently he had quite a job on his hands, because before the afternoon was out he had shimmied up a tree and run a wire to the house and drilled holes in my floor and got underneath the house in the crawl space and naturally I was impressed with his dedication to cable. I can admire a thing like that. So I was pleasant and nice to him, as is The Southern Way.
But ya'll let me share something with you. Cable guys in Los Angeles named Javier? They do not know The Southern Way. They think some girl with boobs and a pack of cats and no man in sight is being nice because she is so hot for his body she can barely contain herself, and at any moment she may cue the bad synthesizer music and the Cable Guy porn movie will start for real. And if he's lucky the pizza guy will mysteriously appear, if you know what I mean. And I think you do.
But I did not at that time know jackshit about cable guys named Javier and the misinterpretation of The Southern Way. I did not know that being nice and friendly and offering someone a diet coke once they've been under your house is the same as flinging off your bra and yelling "MAMA IS READY!!"
This is but one of the many life lessons I have learned in my post-married months. And I feel that I must share these life lessons with you because it is simply not covered in any addition of "Don't Sweat The Small Stuff" (which, coincidentally, did not address sweating of any nature which is why I bought the friggin' book to begin with, but I digress.)
The exact moment I became aware Something Was Amiss was when Javier the cable guy tried to hug me. We were standing at the door after the completion of two hours of cable guy excellence, and I had to sign some papers and then ... he leaned in. And I leaned waaaay the fuck out. I gaped at him with this look on my face that must have said, WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE YOU PONYTAILED FREAK? And Javier said, "I would like to hug you now." And me, oh-so-cool-Laurie said, "Um, no, thank you."
Yes, in those early days of singleness I was just so incredibly suave. My big brush off? NO THANK YOU. Because nothing makes a strange man with slicked back hair and pliers respect your word more than a nervously muttered pleasantry. But in my defense, I was in shock. And also, I was just a little unsure if I was maybe hallucinating. No one had hugged me in six months out of any other reason that I was CRYING, nonstop, and bemoaning my personal meltdown. I cried a lot back then. Ok, still do, but WHATEVER. Not part of the story.
So fast forward to today. Me, brokedown internets. Happy happy! the cable guy is coming to service me. And when he arrived I stayed far away and offered nary a cold beverage (even though it was 394 degrees outside) and I made noncommittal responses and ya'll, this goes against the very fabric of my being. But I did it, with much success because he did not try to hug me even once.
And now that I have the Internets all I want to do is email and post and blogstalk everyone and I can't because I must MUST clean my house, because I am having a barbecue tomorrow! With actual people attending who will expect food and a relatively cat-hair-free place to rest their heiney. So it is 11 p.m. right now and I have dishes to do and vaccuuming to do and beer to drink and all the while the Internets will be calling to me. It wants to hug me.
And I hug it back.
Posted by laurie at May 21, 2005 11:12 PM