Welcome to 1996

Why hello! I'm writing this little missive courtesy of a dial-up Internet connection. How late 20th century, no?

After an hour on the phone with Earthlink this morning, it was determined that the newly installed DSL at my new apartment is not working. I told the Earthlink technician that at the beginning of the call, but I do appreciate his troubleshooting efforts. Even if those efforts cut into my exercise time. Another technician called me tonight and asked me to do the exact same things I'd done this morning because, apparently, he needed his own confirmation that the line isn't working. I got a bit of an attitude at that point, given all the time I'd already spent testing my motem, but I did what he asked. And then he never called me back, even though he said he would.

I certainly hope this gets resolved sometime soon.

Aside from chatting with the lovely gentlemen at Earthlink, I split my time this weekend between lounging, socializing and running errands. The errands mostly involved buying more things for the new pad. Things like a flashlight, batteries, bug spray (I have a backyard, and sometimes the insects forget that they are outdoor pets), copies of my house keys and a P.O. box, which I am renting to keep the exact location of my new domicile off the Internet.

My lounging time saw me watching lots of MSNBC and DVD's. It also lead me to the mystery of why my new DVD player has decided repeatedly to tell me "Display Connected -non HDCP Compliant," even though it hasn't said that the other times I've used it. I even read the owners manual and still can't figure out how to stop the machine from flashing that reminder.

Then there was the socializing. On Friday I made a quick appearance at Sens for happy hour with Andrey, Carla, Olena, Lorena and several others. Then I met Carolyn at an art show in the Mission, after which we collected Dima and went to the Attic. I drank far too much on Friday night; so I stayed in Saturday night and then met Carla for brunch and, more importantly, mimosas this afternoon. Now it's Sunday evening, which means back to work tomorrow. Too bad weekends aren't five or six days long.

One more thing. Do me a favor and think good thoughts for Father Sassy. My dear old daddy is going through some rough times, and I don't think they are going to get smoother any time soon. Or at all.