Rage Against the Machine

I just now decided to check in on my good ol’ blog, as I was having a conversation with a coworker last night about writing. She suggested I started a blog so that if the chance of exposure ever arose, I could direct future interested parties to my website. I started pondering whether or not this particular blog would be appropriate for most audiences, when I discovered that…the last one I wrote (on June 17th) did not even post! This had nothing to do with my original purpose for investigation, and a whole new conclusion was reached. Computers are my arch nemesis.

I just got a spiffy MacBook Air from my friend, I paid $500.00 cash for it and worked my tush off to be able to afford that, I had to sacrifice purchasing a Gucci purse that I really wanted and a pair of Armani sunglasses. Who am I kidding? Those would have been $500 a piece, and since it was an all or nothing kind of accessory day, I went with the computer instead. Besides, I REALLY needed one, because:

A) I was headed for a foreign country in a matter of weeks and

B) I had two computers break on me in a matter of 2 months.

When did these computers start transpiring against me? I think it was right after I started dating a computer geek. That’s when s*** hit the computer fans. You would think with such a technological family, a home life that has no less than 6 laptops, 2 iPhones, 4 iPods, and a newly acquired iPad, I would have a grasp on at least how to turn the television on or to change the channel from ESPN to NPR. Wait, now I am confusing the radio and TV…and YouTube consequently.

I’ve had the same cellphone (which is ringing at this moment to some of Bob Marley’s finest (don’t ask me how on earth I discovered your phone could play popular music written by dead people)) for 4 years now. I get to “upgrade” tomorrow, June 27th. And I think I will just upgrade to the same exact thing because I still can’t make my finger type on those finger typing phone keyboards. In fact, the touch screens at work have me touching my own computer screen trying to get it to navigate the world wide web with my index.

The mouse on my mothers’ computer, which I am using right now, has me all discombobulated. Do I use the left clicker or the right clicker to go to the next page? Whoever named it a “mouse”??

The batteries in my digital camera die every three photos, making it difficult to travel light and inexpensively.

Like the next normal person living in a bubble of misunderstandings and misleadings, I love the possibilities of Facebook, Pinterest, and the fact that I can type this up and anyone from here to Timbuctoo can read it and know how much of a dork I am. Today I am going to pretend for a moment that I don’t hate technology. It hates me. Kinda like all the dogs in my neighborhood. Can’t imagine why…

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