August 22nd, 2001

running, bomb tech

transpired:

Had a morning that required a few friends-only entries. Summary: something from my past came back to haunt me in the form of a debate over a cellphone. It's all good now.

Knowledge is truly ephemeral on the web. The source I was printing vast volumes of knowledge from had said knowledge removed over the night due to a lawsuit. Undaunted, I searched again, and will print the entire Work so that I will have a relatively predictable point of reference, a scrap of a map, from which to look at the world. How differs his astigmatism from mine?

Sis and Darkside and I all stood together and talked for quite some time. Though the topic of discussion was rather dark, a spirit of general happiness prevailed. We have returned.
  • Current Mood
    loved loved
running, bomb tech

the silly name game

Viking: Azure the Berserk

Rave: love sunshine

Weird: Poopsie Toilet

Pirate: Captain Anne Kidd

Thank you, I guess, Erin
running, bomb tech

Thank you for your fucking help

Trying to look for a new power cable for my laptop. Dell's website is distinctly unhelpful. On the phone, on hold, having a fucking merry old time of it.

To add to the joy, the service barcode ... this is a laptop that gets a lot of use. The barcode was on non-durable surfacing on the bottom. It's over a year old.

Guess how the bar-code has gone bye-bye. Fucking service code.
running, bomb tech

Honing My Rage

You know what I hate? The little messages that tell you to please stay on the line, your call is very important to us, about every fifteen to thirty seconds. Generally, on a well-designed call hold system, the messages come every minute or so, and the music fades out and the message comes on, then the music fades back in. With Dell's hold system, the music cuts out and you get your hopes up that it's really a real person...

grr.
Grrr.

Fuck 'em.

And I'm calling them willingly, mind you.

Of course, it's not like I really have a choice. I need a power cable, and I can't get one from the website, not even by using the part number I need.
running, bomb tech

Contact!

I am speaking with the older brother of the archetypical pimply-faced youth. This one is named, i believe, steve or steven, and we are wasting each other's time quite well.

I am honing his rage by attempting to pay by check.

after honing his rage by sending him off to check what thing it is that I needed for my laptop in the first place.

It's the transformer, not the power cable, that I need. Ah.

It seems like one system to me, dammit.

Fucking techies and their techspeak. No, wait, I will be one. Dammit.
running, bomb tech

Ordered!

Hah, my rage is validated. One $4.95 transformer for the Dell Latitude CPt Notebook computer will be on its way to me by the 31st of August. Shipping and handling, $10.

Mua-ha-ha.

Poor little Stevie. My incompetence as a person on the other end of the phone made his day a lot worse.

I laugh at him, because I have to go out and do the same damn thing, only worse.

Ha! I say HHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!