Creampuff Revolution

Creampuff's Goofy Grin

As some of you may recall, I lost my engagement ring some time ago.

The debate rages on over whether is was lost or stolen - RAGES! - but there is no debate that it was kind of giving me a rash. So hey - if you stole my engagement ring, I hope it's giving YOU A RASH TOO.

Katr sweetly offered to get me a new ring, but I was having none of it. It's expensive. Plus, I still have my wedding ring, so I have something to flash in her face when she's annoyed by my antics and I taunt her with "Well, you married me!" I was resigned to coveting her engagement ring until a suitable "new ring" anniversary, like 28 years from now.

For my birthday this year, we were going to go to a movie, take a "surprise field trip" and get an ice cream cake from Dairy Queen. I spent a lot of my birthday holding a bucket and trying not to woof, so Katr's original plans were foiled. But a few days after my actual birthday, she took me on the surprise field trip - to see our jeweler Rosemary at Era Design!! Because over the previous few weeks, they had been conspiring to recreate my ring!! I know!! Sniff.

Rosemary had found some pretty new garnets for me to look at and we discussed how I wanted a smaller ring this time and also, what's with the effing ring rash? And then she told us about the gold.

Hey - gold is expensive. Three years ago, when we got the rings, gold was cheap like borscht. Now, it's pricey, like borscht with a perogie floating in it. My original ring cost about 1/3 of a month's rent. For a ring that's 1/3 of the size, it would cost a whole month's rent. HA ha! Fucktastic!

I have to tell you - I was torn. The thought of spending so much on a ring I potentially lost made me a little queasy. Do I say "fuck it!" and go for it? Do I hold off? We decided to sleep on it - and then the next day my computer died and settled the question for me! Yeah!

We did end up buying the stones, to have them on hand for when gold gets cheaper or we get richer. But I left the garnets with Rosemary. Because I can't have nice things. But I can and DO have the BEST WIFE EVER. Thanks, Katr. You make me want to marry you all over again. And not just to get that new ring.

Creampuff Blurt

Alright. I give up. I was totally waiting to blog again until I had downloaded the pictures of my eventual birthday cake from my camera onto the 12 year old PC I'm still using because my laptop's still in the shop. But I've tried and 12 year old PC has declined to receive my photos, so here I am, on a Sunday evening, verging on hysteria, full of Cadbury Caramilk mini-eggs, freaking out about a series of VERY FIRST WORLD PROBLEMS and now totally upset that I can't show you how my ice cream cake from Dairy Queen had "Happy Birthday, Dingus" on it.

Scene.

Go to Hell, Dell (and Other Angry Rhymes)

It was a real shock yesterday when my laptop ended.

It's just a computer. I had most of the important stuff backed up. No one actually died. But it was like losing the key to your bedroom - while also suspecting your bedroom might be on fire. Sure, most of your clothes were in the laundry anyway but there were some good books there! And your bed.

As I said yesterday, as soon as it happened, Katr was all over it, finding help sites and tweeting the fine folks at Dell who are all over the Twitter. I know those folks are busy and I'm sure they tried their best - but after three Twitter handoffs and a couple of emails spread over the better part of the business day, Katr and the Dellers weren't able to come to any sort of resolution vis a vis what the hell to actually do.

In other frustrating news, the basic message we got from the Dell website was:

"We can't help you because your one year warranty has expired. You'll have to pay a fee up front to talk to Dell Support."

To that I say:

Really? Really, Dell? The laptop I bought directly from you 14 months ago goes kablooey through no fault of my own and I can't even ask you what to do about it without paying you first??

I don't feel I'm asking for much, Dell. I don't expect you to fix it for free. All I wanted to know was:

a) Given the information at hand, it seems that the motherboard blew. Do you concur?

b) Where do I take it or send it to be fixed where they won't steal my very important "the time I cracked one off in the elevator"-type data?

When Dell, the people I bought the laptop from, was unable to give me this basic info for free, I moved from the "shock" stage of grief to the "anger".

Hey Dell - did you know that you can chat online with a live geek at Geek Squad without paying a dime? After business hours? A live geek who listens to your problem, asks good questions, tries to help you for free over the chat and then gives you some options for next steps? Well, you can! And now Best Buy is fixing my computer, Dell. Not you. Will it be more expensive than I want and will I end up feeling ripped off? Probably. But at least they told me that for FREE.

(A special note to independent computer repair shops in Vancouver - I really would have preferred to take my sad computer business to you rather than to some behemoth like Best Buy. I WANT to support local business. But your "websites" - when you have your own website - do not inspire confidence. 12 year old girls have MySpace pages that look more professional than your website.)

Anyway, Dell - I really enjoyed my souped up Inspiron 1520 while it lasted. I hope it comes back to me more than a shadow of its former self. Regardless of the outcome of my Geek Squad adventure, however, I just want to confirm that, just as you ceased to be a service provider when my warranty expired, I ceased to be a future Dell customer. Good day.

Sidenote - I don't want to hear any smugness from you Macheads. Katr has a Mac, I like the PC and we need one in the house anyway for testing purposes. So zip it.

In totally unrelated news, did anyone else catch Castle last night? I'm a little alarmed by how charming I found it. I watched, of course, because I will watch anything with hometown stud Nathan Fillion on it. But where I expected to be a little underwhelmed by the predictable premise, tired procedural structure and "unlikely partnership", I totally fucking SWOONED.

I usually dislike the mischevious man-child/straight-laced career woman match up - I always want to knee the guy in the misters for being a jag-off and then berate the woman for being so humourless. But Stana Katic is utterly fucking delightful and I knew Nathan Fillion had scored when Katr said in wondering tones "Who is that guy? Why have we not seen more of him?" EXACTLY.

Sure, there's plenty to complain about - like how all the people of colour are relegated to the 'sassy co-worker' roles as usual and also how Sue Grafton didn't have any lines - but oh, the funny. I ... just forgive so much when it's funny.

Anyway, Fillion fans - fear not the Castle! I myself have accorded it the greatest honour I can bestow - setting it as a series recording on our PVR. That's love.

Huh

My 14-month-old laptop died this morning. No goodbye, no parting words, just...phssst.

Katr, with the help of many key Twitterati, has been trying to track down solutions to the determined offness of my laptop. Thank you all for your kind assistance in this matter. You are the wind beneath my chubby wings.

In the meantime, we have called an ancient PC out of retirement to serve as emergency backup. I have to say, I appreciate having this machine to fall back on, even if it does shut off without wa

Creampuff's Inappropriate Behaviour

I participated in a delightful Northern Voice 09  weekend before last and I have it say, it was effing great. Huzzah!

Like last year, I met lots of really interesting, smart, talented people. But I remember last year, my main conference takeaway was that I met Meg Tilly. This year, I think I actually got it. There were some really great talks and panels on stuff I was very interested in. Plus, I seem to have caught everyone's disgusting plague! My suggestion for next year's conference slogan is: Northern Voice 2010 - It's Viral.

The Northern Voice organizers didn't take me up on my offer to speak about how many hot Dawn French pictures you can post on your blog before being sued. But Katr and I were on a panel this year: Social Media Mores for the Modern Couple. HA ha!

The panel was comprised of us, as well as eloquent, talented bloggers Derek Miller and Airdrie Miller. It was moderated brilliantly by Julie Szabo, who asked fantastic questions (ooo, and expertly live-blogged by Raul - thanks, Raul!) and the audience asked awesome questions as well. It was relaxed, fun times. Thanks, awesome people!

As one might expect, Julie, Katr, Derek and Airdrie spent the panel being alternately articulate, witty, honest, thoughtful, heartwarming and heartbreaking...and I sat on the end cracking jokes. In the end, while I had a great time, I don't know that I contributed anything of substance. In view of the giant brains and life experiences of my co-panelists, this was certainly no great loss. But it did get me thinking about how I generally choose hilarity over keeping it real and about the price I may pay for coming off like a frivolous douche. It's a hard life.

So I was thinking about inappropriate behaviour later this week and how it has the potential to hold one back. I know that I am not the only person who struggles to choose between what is appropriate and what is funny. So in an attempt to both monitor my childish impulses and offer some useful tips, I thought I would put together a list of professional "don'ts" for those of you who share my inclination to crack wise when perhaps you should keep your crack to yourself.

My behavioural experiment was helped along by fate - Katr and I were working onsite for a client all last week and it proved an excellent opportunity to quell my instincts!

I'm not saying it wasn't a challenge, but for a whole week, I did not:

• Follow a co-worker to the one-seater bathroom, then say loudly through the door "Whatcha doin' in there?"


• Walk around the office pretending that TimBits were my nipples.


• Click the link when the #2 search result for "abbreviations for measurements" was a site called "Penis Enlargement Gym".


• Yell "I backwashed!!" as my boss took a sip of her coffee.


• Suggest a co-worker set his new password as "H0neybEarb0ng"


• Perform my "I'm Batman!" shadow puppet routine in front of the LCD projector.


• Get Katr up to demonstrate our mastery of the Single Ladies dance routine from the Beyoncé video. Oh, wait...no, we did do that at the office.


• Answer dissenting opinions with "Homo says what?"


• Ask the security guard "Is that a concealed weapon? Or did you just pop a woody?"


• Make tuna melt in the kitchen microwave. No office can come back from hot fish.

All in all, it was a pretty grown-up week - and just in time for my birthday! Which I plan to spend pantsless, face first in an ice cream cake with "Eat Me Bob" written on it. More ice cream - more ice cream, monkeys!