Lizzie's Couch

Vito would like to show off his Gotcha Day Present, a brand new football! He never managed to kill his last one, but he did manage to get it so dirty it cannot be cleaned, so mommy got him a shiny new blue one to dirty up!

I know this is Lizzie’s blog, but I like posting about both my babies.  The EPI guys have to listen to me go on about Liz, you guys get to listen to me ramble about Vito, so there!

Today is Vito’s “Gotcha Day”, the day I got him from the shelter.   Though I’m pretty sure somebody pulled a switcheroo on me somewhere along the way.  He doesn’t look at all like the poor, starved pile of bones I adopted, instead he’s now fat, happy, and absolutely glowing with life and happiness.  So today is dedicated to Vito, my big baby.

To Vito,

I know you can’t read, but I wish I could explain to you how much you mean to me.  I am so eternally grateful to the rescue who posted your plight on craigslist, it is people like that who make the world just a little bit brighter all the time.  I know you brightened my world.

We had our ups and downs, the sickness, the messes, and you held in there.  You were sick, starving, and probably in more pain than I could imagine, but you came into my home with grace and humility.  You knew you were sick, and you tried so hard not to mess on my floor, even when you couldn’t help it.  You were always sweet and gentle to Lizzie, you immediately took your place as my protector, even though you were so weak a child could have knocked you down.

And now, now you’re beautiful, vibrant, you radiate life and happiness.  I’d never really seen something that defined the word ‘gallumph’ until I saw you..well…gallumphing your way across the yard to me.  And you’ve never lost faith in me, even when we were stuck in that horrible little apartment, even now, when we’re getting ready for another move.  You’ve accepted my ‘holding pattern’ way of life, and things are slowly but surely getting better.

You try so hard to be good, even when you aren’t.  It’s probably why I let you get away with so much.  Well, that and you’re so darn cute.  We’ve had our bad days, there have been days when you’ve driven me crazy, but that’s what family does.  And while having you here might be extra work for me, it’s worthwhile work.  And I don’t mind it in the least.  Never ever think you’re a burden, you’re my baby, and I don’t know what I would do without your warm presence pressed against my back at night, watching over me.

This is for you Vito, the best Birthday Present I could have gotten.

I finally got the photos!  here you go!

Well, I didn’t post in September, and I like to try and post at least once a month, so to make up for it, I’m going to post Lizzie’s adoption story.  It’s not quite as hard on the heartstrings as Vito’s, and it’s been a bit longer so I might have to fudge some of the details, but I’ll try to make it as accurate as I can remember.

Do any of you know that song “Unanswered Prayers”?  This story is a little like that.

I want to say it was…December 2008.  My best buddy of a cat had just died of an intestinal blockage that was caught too late.   I was devastated.  Utterly devastated.  I know everyone says this, but he was the best cat ever and I loved him to pieces.  To distract myself, I started looking on Petfinder, not really to get another pet, but to just keep from thinking about Jacob,  you guys probably know what I mean.  So I looked, and fantasized about having a huge German Shepherd, because I’d always wanted one.  I didn’t want a purebred though, mostly because I have a soft spot for mutts.

After a couple of months I started feeling better, I’m pretty good at compartmentalizing my feelings.  It didn’t help that in January I lost my job…again.  (2008 had been a bad year…I won’t go into detail, but let’s just say it was bad enough I had to move 850 miles back in with my parents just to survive, then lost my cat shortly after.  Not fun.)  I now had a huge debt on my credit card from Jacob’s vet bills, and no income.  February I finally got a job working for Geek Squad but hey, it’s a paycheck right?  (PS, if you guys have computer problems, email me before going there, 9 times out of 10 I can probably save you $100’s.  ESPECIALLY if it’s a virus.)  Anyway, I digress.  In that time I had come across a beautiful male Malinois on Petfinder named Sequence.  It was love at first sight, I wanted him so badly!  I decided to go out to meet him over the weekend,  having negotiated with the parents to let me have a dog since I would be moving out soon anyway. (Little did I know ‘soon’ would be another year.)

That weekend I had taken my leopard gecko to a reptile expo, mostly just for fun, then called the rescue he was at to let them know I was on my way.  They informed me he had been adopted out that very day.  My heart broke.  The love of my life and I hadn’t even gotten to meet him!  Yes, I’ll admit it, I cried a little.  I was still emotional over my kitty, so sue me.  They told me they had another, similar dog there, named Lizzie, if I would like to come see her instead.  I agreed, though I was still heartbroken over missing out on Sequence.

I drove up there and they brought her out to meet me.  I’ll be honest, it wasn’t love at first sight.  Liz was cute, but I’d been so hoping for the other dog that I didn’t really put my heart into it when I met her that first time.  I sat with her for a little bit, then went home, still sad and disappointed.

March rolled around, and I could not get her out of my mind.   She just hung there in my subconscious, telling me I needed to go back and get her.  I suppose my heart knew what my head didn’t when I first saw her.  I called the rescue again and we met at a Petsmart for another visit.  This time, my mind unclouded by sadness, I realized just how phenomenal she really was.  I wanted her.  It wasn’t the ‘omg must have now!’ love I’d had when I’d seen Sequence…this was a deeper, soul-binding love.  We were meant for each other, there was no other way to describe it.  This wasn’t something I’d felt with my other pets before, where most of the time they were like my children, Lizzie was like a long lost sister.

I had to wait until May to get her.  My parents had to dog-proof the yard.  It was pretty agonizing, especially since the rescue was over an hour’s drive away and I couldn’t go out every day to see her.  The day I went out to bring her home though…that was a wonderful day.  We met halfway, at a great big parking lot so I could write the check and give it to them.

Lizzie just knew she was going home with me.  I didn’t even have to tell her to get into the car.  All I did was open the door and she hopped right in.  She got a brand new red collar and leash, and she’s worn red ever since.   The first thing I did was buy her a red camo bandanna, which we still have, and she loves.  Here’s a couple pics I took on my cell the day I brought her home.

She’s still gorgeous, and still my sister.  I have never had a dog who was so in tune with me, I talk, and she understands.  She doesn’t do any fancy tricks, but I can walk around outside with her without a leash, and completely trust her to stay within sight.  I love Vito too, he’s my baby, but Liz is my soul sister, I can’t call it anything else.  I know it sounds cheesy, but it is what it is.

Love you big girl.

Last Saturday we got to go to the Austin Pet Expo!  Me and Liz had a blast!  Vito didn’t get to come, it would have stressed him out too much, but he got two new tennis balls out of the deal, so all was forgiven.

Lizzie was the only tripod there, and of course, took complete advantage of that fact by eating up ALL of the attention (and treats) she could get!  We even entered the costume contest in our trademark pirate costume, didn’t win, but we were definitely a crowd favorite!  When the photos come in I’ll post them, I haven’t gotten them from the photographer yet.  We spent all day wandering around and making friends, and discovered that apparently Ms. Lizzie has a ‘type’.   She flirted with EVERY black labrador she came across.  And this is Liz, always Ms. Cool and Composed, bouncing around like a puppy and doing some serious flirting.  Apparently she has a thing for glossy black coats and floppy ears, so any of you eligible labs out there take notice, somebody seems in the market for a boyfriend!

Let’s see, in other news…

Well, I’ll be moving again soon.  Might go to Lubbock, I’ve got a good friend there who would room with me, I just need to make sure I have a job when I get there.  The roomie decided she wanted her new boyfriend to move in, so I gotta go.

In other other news…

I have a surprise I’m working on for all you tripods out there, hopefully soon I’ll get the prototype done and patent it, if it works it’ll help out a bunch of our pups, so wish me luck!  I also registered my own business, and I’ll have my website up soon, carrying stuff just for special needs pets!  I’m all excited, you guys are gonna love it!

PS: If any of you have any ideas on things I should carry, let me know!  The goal is to make it easier for those of us with special needs pets to get the things we need.  Even if it’s just a ‘wouldn’t it be great if’ idea, I’m kinda a master at improvising, and I’ve already got a few great ideas that aren’t necessarily ‘pet supplies’, but would be super handy!  I don’t know when it will all be up and running, but hopefully within the next couple of months, I want to get moved first so I’ll have the space to order stuffs.  You can shoot me an email at lizziescouch@gmail.com (Yes, she has her own email address now, I’m such a dork!)

I’m going to warn you now, this is gonna be a MONSTER of a post!  You also might want to get some tissues.

So anyone who read my first post probably knows who Vito is, he’s the German Shepherd I rescued from the local shelter, and has been diagnosed with EPI. He’s Lizzie’s big/little brother.  Big because he’s almost twice her size, little because he’s about half her age.  I’m mostly writing this all out as a sort of record for him, I want to keep this story forever fresh in my heart and mind.

Let’s start with the beginning.  Back in November I was looking up ads on craigslist for dogs up for adoption, since Liz tends to be a drama queen on walks and flops down like she’s dying literally every 20 feet.  But I noticed if I brought a friend along of the canine persuasion she’d walk farther.  Plus I was working long hours and I wanted her to have company while I was gone.

I found an ad titled “Beautiful Dark German Shepherd Needs Reprieve!! (TLAC)”  with pictures of a handsome, very skinny shepherd standing there, just looking sad and in need of some serious love.    I replied to the ad, and found it was posted by a rescue who goes to the local shelter and takes pictures of all the animals on ‘death row’ and posts them on craigslist in hopes of getting them that one final chance.  Luckily this time it worked.  I called the shelter and had him put on hold so I could go see him the next day.

I went in, and the lady at the counter looked at my application then at me.  She raised a brow.  “You are aware he’s in pretty bad shape, right?”  She said.  I knew from the photo he was skinny, but obviously there wasn’t much detail.  I just nodded and said I wanted to see him anyway.  She handed me a leash and told me where to go.  I went out to his kennel, opened the door and he hauled himself to his feet to greet me.

The pictures did not do him justice.  And by that, I mean he looked even worse.  His hip bones were sharp enough to cut paper, and you could count every single rib from across the yard.  In the photo, his dark fur hid his shape effectively, but up close…it was heartbreaking.  I leashed him and walked him out to a small fenced yard where I could let him walk around and get to know him.  He moseyed along beside me, quiet and solemn.  He looked ancient.  I sat down in an old, rusted out metal folding chair and watched him.

At first he was pretty aloof, wandering around, not really paying any attention to me.  He had nasty diarrhea a couple times, which I attributed to his being so emaciated.  He came when I called him, let me pet him a couple times, and wandered off again.  I considered this a good sign, that he would be self sufficient and wouldn’t suffer separation anxiety when I went to work, but it also worried me since it didn’t feel like we were bonding well yet.  Then he found an old, filthy tennis ball and brought it over to me.

We played ball a little, he was so weak he could only trot half-heartedly after it, but I could tell he was really trying.  He wanted to play, he wanted to live.  It brings tears to my eyes just remembering it.  I remember looking into his eyes and seeing intelligence, but there wasn’t any hope.  He knew he was going to die, and he just wanted to play ball before that happened.  That clinched it, I couldn’t let him go.

I took him back to his kennel.  I wanted to just scoop him up and steal him home right there, but I had to fill out paperwork and go through the right channels.  He went along quietly, I’m pretty sure he thought I was never coming back.  I went back to the office and told the lady I wanted him.  They had to do a medical on him first, so the earliest I’d be able to get him was tomorrow, Sunday.  I finished up my paperwork, and left, practically vibrating with the need to go back there and hug him and tell him it would all be alright, but knowing I had to be a grown up and responsible and go to work.

Sunday they called and told me he had had his medical exam…which I found ridiculous considering he was obviously unhealthy and would need to see a vet the moment I got him home..but I digress.  The frightful thing was they wanted to fix him.  Remember how skinny he was?  He weighed 58lbs that day, fully 32lbs UNDER his optimal healthy weight.  And they wanted to try and put a dog that sick and skinny under and do a completely unecessary surgery on him?!  Several phone calls later I finally convinced them that I would pay for the surgery myself AFTER he was healthy, and they finally released him.  This took until Monday, and finally, FINALLY, I was able to go get him.

In my excitement I had already bought him a new collar and lead, and I took them with me when I went to the shelter, all but bouncing with each step.  I walked in, got permission to go get him, and went out to his kennel.  Vito was on his feet the moment he saw me.  He actually even managed a little bounce or two of joy.  I knelt down, opened the gate, and he rushed into my arms.  He was crying.  I started crying too.  I hugged him and held him and told him it was okay, he was safe now, and he just pressed as hard as he could into my arms and cried.  We walked back to the adoption center together, and I swear he had twice the energy he’d had when I first saw him.  More paperwork was done, fees were paid, and FINALLY, he was mine.

He peed on their sign on the way to the car.

Those of you who have been following along probably know a few important things about my situation that new people don’t, so I’ll give a quick run down.

1. My apartment complex SUCKS and tried to kill my dogs.

2. My lease was up August 1st and I didn’t realize it until two weeks before it was due.

3. I have two big puppies in dire need of space and a yard.

I’d like to add a bit to that list.

4. I have way too much crap.  Seriously, I don’t know where it came from, but I seem to accumulate the weirdest things.  (WHY do I have three airsoft guns?!  And a #1 teacher mug?  I don’t even know where that came from!) Then those things breed in the back of my closet and become MORE weird things!

5. Babygates are the best invention mankind has ever come up with. They are my only link to sanity when I need to escape a certain drooly crybaby who can’t go ten seconds without either trying to play fetch or crawl into my lap.  This wouldn’t be a problem except said drooly crybaby is 90lbs, and doesn’t listen when mommy tells him she needs to do important things, like sleep.

6. Queen sized beds are NOT big enough for a 55lb princess, a 90lb doofus, and one human.

That said, WE’VE MOVED!  We are OUT of that nasty apartment complex and now living in a nice little duplex with our new roomie and her 7 birds.  It’s a full house, but it has a yard, and we’re all much happier there!  It’s also only 2 miles from work, as opposed to the 12 miles I was traveling previously, so yay gas savings!  It’s also much cheaper, so I’ll be able to save some cash up for important things, like getting my car fixed up.  So all in all, things are looking up.

Also, Vito is adorable, look at that face!  Even when he’s being obnoxious he’s cute!  I just wish he’d learn to ask politely like Ms. Liz in the background there, who only gets in my face when she REALLY needs something.  And yes, I have Rock ’em Sock ’em Robots pajama pants, and I will continue to have them until there isn’t a thread left, and after that, I will SCOUR THE GLOBE to find another pair.  Because really, how much more awesome can pajama pants get?

So I just realized a few days ago that my lease is up August 1st, not September 1st.

I repeat: MEEP!  Luckily I don’t own a lot of stuff, so it won’t take me long to get packed, but I have NO IDEA where I’m going to go!  I’ve found a few places, and I’m waiting for them to call me back, hopefully I can get moved in quickly.  Worst comes to worst, I’ve got a neighbor who will let me crash on his couch for a week or two…but I don’t think he’d appreciate having the pups around in his nice, clean apartment.

One of the places I found would be perfect, it’s a tiny little house with a good sized yard for rent really cheap.  I drove by it, and it looks to be in a decent neighborhood.  I’ve been on my toes all day hoping they’ll contact me.  Gawd, I need a yard SO BADLY.  Vito and Liz are great, don’t get me wrong, but they do not need to be stuck in an apartment all day.  I work long hours, and it’s just not fair to them.

They need more sunshine and grass and playtime, and I need to be able to let them out to potty anytime they want, instead of getting the leashes, sitting on Vito to clip it on, then getting tied in knots or yanked in separate directions  every five seconds because they haven’t figured out how to walk together yet.  They’re smart pups, and they try, but their mommy’s been too busy lately to train them on teamwork.  We’ll get there eventually.  So, cross your fingers and paws and hope I get this place!

In other news, I have to share this, it made me laugh.  A co-worker of mine is a very extreme feminist, everything to her is a conspiracy, keeping the woman down.  Normally I just roll with it, but her man bashing kinda got to me one day (she started bashing on the Dresden books, which she’d never read and I happen to l0ve) so I told her she really needed to work on her man issues (seriously, she can’t bring herself to say a nice thing about men unless you force her)…this angered her so much she bashed me on her blog.  It was so amazingly silly and over the top I can’t even get mad about it!  I mean, it’s…it’s like being accused of secretly plotting world domination with radioactive lemurs, it’s that silly!  According to her I’m a poor, brainwashed kid who thinks women belong in the kitchen and the bedroom.

Now, most of you don’t know me, so I’ll give you a little profile.  I am a 5’9″, 25 year old single female, who lives alone, works full time, and has loudly proclaimed the desire to never get married or have children.  I went to a trade school where I was the only girl in my class, I’ve moved 7 times in the past 10 years, lived in 3 different states, and only one of those times did I have a roommate.  I care for two dogs, one tripod, one with a medical condition, and pay for all of it out of my own pocket.  I have never had financial aid, not even food stamps, even when I worked retail part time at minimum wage.  Does that sound like a co-dependant, brainwashed woman to you?

Seriously though, I’m not angry!  It’s too funny to for me to get angry at!  I keep reading it and laughing like crazy.  But in case any of you are wondering my position on feminism…I’m for equality.  On BOTH sides.  Men have problems too people!  Buy a guy a beer once in awhile.  The whole social inequality thing isn’t a war, the more men and women work together the better things will get.  That simple.

Sorry for the tangent, but it was simply too silly not to share.  And don’t worry, that’s about as political as I’m gonna get, so you can rest at ease knowing I’m not gonna make you listen to me go on about politics, there’s plenty of other places for that.

In other other news, Vito is now 90lbs!  That’s 32lbs more than the day I adopted him!  Woot!  Also, he is now officially a pony.  Anyone got a saddle?

I said I would post about another incident which did involve Liz, and now I have two.  It seems when it rains it pours.  I truly want to hear opinions on this, as it’s possible I’m over reacting, but to me, any incident that threatens the lives of my babies deserves to be met with my wrath.  I am trying to remain calm about this, though I will admit there is a part of my brain that is raging like an angry momma bear, ready to gnaw on some heads.

Incident One:  The Window.
After I left Best Buy with my loaner phone, I came home, greeted the pups, then paused, noticing the blinds covering my sliding glass door were moving.  At first I thought maybe I had imagined it, but then they moved again. I walked over, pulled the blinds aside, and discovered a man-sized hole in my window.  There was a massive pile of tiny glass shards on both the inside and outside of the window, and had my dogs not been smart enough to stay away from it, I could have come home to a massacre.  My stomach turns to think of the damage that could have been done if they had walked through it, or heaven forbid, tried to eat it.  I checked them both over, they were okay, and rushed around checking my apartment for anything missing.  Nothing was out of place.  My first thought was perhaps someone had tried to break in, and the dogs had scared them away.  Or they had looked around, seen nothing of value (the electronics were upstairs) and left.  I called emergency maintenance, they called me back a few minutes later and said they would be there in 20 to 25 minutes.  I spend the next hour and a half sitting there, wild stories of burglars returning with guns or other equally horrifying scenarios running through my head.

When they finally arrive, I am told it was an accident caused by the landscaping company, and that two other windows had been broken that day as well.  Why hadn’t they bothered to tell me this over the phone?  Did they think it necessary to let me stew in terror until they got there?  They board up the window and leave.  They did not clean up the shards of glass, or the remaining glass in the window.  I vacuumed up the shards as best I could, but I didn’t dare try to break the rest of the glass down, it would have only shattered all over me and caused more of a hazard.  This was on Monday night.  The next day I spend all day at work worrying about the rest of that glass falling and killing my dogs, come home, nothing has been repaired.  They tell me that since I wasn’t home they didn’t want to enter with the dogs there.  Fair enough.  So today I asked a neighbor to watch them, and if it isn’t done by tonight someone is going to be in trouble.

Incident Two: The Wires.
The glass I might forgive as an accident.  Though I maintain that it should have been cleaned up the moment it was reported.  This next incident though, this is why I’m angry.
Tuesday night (last night) I took the dogs out to the designated dog area, you know, those areas with grass and a poo pick up station some apartment complexes have?  My neighbor came out to talk to me while I let the dogs do their thing, and we’re just standing there, chatting, when I hear a loud POP and Lizzie, the mellowest dog on the planet, suddenly SCREAMS and starts dancing around, even briefly managing to slip her collar, that was how hard she was struggling.  I’m obviously surprised and scared something had hurt her, and I go to her, put her collar back on, and check her over.  Aside from looking traumatized, she seems to be okay, though she keeps shaking her head for about a minute or two.  My neighbor looks where she had been when we heard the POP, and says ‘she must have tried to lick these wires over here’.  He admits he’d known the wires were there, but had assumed they were dead since they’d been there awhile and no one had come out to remove them.  His son went over and nudged them, and was rewarded with another loud POP and a large spark.
There. Were. Live. Wires. In. The. Dog. Area.
I’ll let that sink in.
I do not have words for the level of rage I felt at that moment.  I consider myself to be a very patient and pleasant person, but at this moment, Nordic Berserkers would have backed off and told me to calm down.  You DO NOT put my animals in danger.  Ever.  I grabbed my phone, called thier office and left a very angry voicemail, since they were closed.  Then I went inside, took a photo of the broken glass, and if the wires are still there when I get home tonight, I’m taking a photo of them too and reporting them to anyone who will listen.  Liz could have DIED.  A smaller breed of dog would have been killed instantly.  Children play in that area.  And when I emailed them about it today?  Not even an apology.  Just a reply asking to clarify where the wires were.  All I have to say?  Someone better get fired for this.

6/09/11 UPDATE

Well, this is special.  I came home last night to MORE glass on my carpet,  and no new window.  I have vacuumed it all up, and I’d like you all to see just how much glass was in my carpet.

Just look at this.  This is a beach bucket.  The glass weighed about 5lbs I’d guess.  Here’s another photo next to a coke can for scale.

Just imagine this on your carpet.  Imagine your children or pets playing with a pile of glass this big nearby.   Imagine coming home to find this on your floor and your kids or pets sitting near it.

They ‘removed’ the wires.  I found the clippings on the ground and the staff tells me the electricity to them was cut.  I think I’m going to go check myself whether they actually shut off the current or just cut them down so no one could spot them easily.  I’ll let you all know the results.

Well, I know it’s been awhile, and this one isn’t really so much about Liz as an update in general and my pathetic excuse for being lazy and not writing anything.  The technology gods are after me.  I swear it.

Incident One:  My laptop dies.

My laptop was already on it’s last legs, I hold no illusions that it was about to go.  Earlier in the year I had accidentally spilled milk on it, and while my computer skills had allowed me to take it apart and get it cleaned out as best I could, the keyboard no longer worked and it had to be plugged in at all times.  That said, there were more than a few instances where the laptop cord was yanked out (thankyou Vito), worked loose, or in one case pulled to stop a virus so I could restart and have a chance to combat the thing.  As many of you computer savvy people know, this is a bad thing.  Windows very much hates being improperly shut down.  So, after a few months of this abuse, it finally threw up it’s digital hands, gave me the finger, and refused to start.  Having no spare computer to connect the harddrive to and attempt a repair, I’m a bit stuck.

Incident Two:  The cable fiasco.

Considering the laptop’s demise a sign that I should finally get a decent machine that will allow me to not only finally get some real CG work done, but also let me play the big stack of games the laptop loathed, I start shopping around.  Now, since I’m looking for a desktop, I needed a desk.  Having no room for a desk, I bought some lumber and built a long table to go over the end of my bed, and haul my tv up there to use as a monitor.  I was pretty proud of myself.  I find a guy on craigslist selling a nice gaming rig for 450, contact him, we email a little, and he vanishes.  So I find another guy, selling a better rig for 400, contact him, and buy the sucker.  The new computer is a BEAST.  8 Gigs of RAM, 1 Gig video card, 2 Terabyte harddrive.  I was in love.  The guy selling it asks if I need the monitor cable, and I mentioned I was going to hook it up to my tv. He nods, and I, stupidly forgetting to check the video card’s ports, take it home.

Big mistake.

I get home, and get ready to hook it up.  No HDMI port.  Hrm.  So I grab my VGA cable and try that.  The port is there, but no signal.  Double hrm.  So I run out to walmart and buy another VGA (and a copy of New Vegas because I was excited about having a new computer), thinking maybe my cable was bad.  Still no signal.  I double check the text message conversation I had with the guy, and realize I need a DVI cable.  And everything is closed except walmart…who doesn’t carry them (also turns out the disk was missing from my game).  Well okay, I guess I can wait a day to play on my new computer.  The next day, I get off work, run down to Fry’s, buy a DVI to VGA cable and a case for my laptop’s harddrive so I can try and repair it.  I do all my other errands, including taking back the other cable and getting another copy of my game, get home, take a shower, and try to plug in my cable.
Crap.
Right kind of cord, wrong ends.
Thoroughly frustrated by now, mostly because it’s Texas, in summer, my car’s AC is out, and Fry’s is a good 20 minutes away, I pack up and go BACK out again to exchange my cable.  By the time I get there I’m covered in sweat, I stink, and I’m not exactly happy.  I go back in, and flag down one of their reps to make absolutely 100% sure I had the right cable.  Now, this is hard for me, I consider myself very computer savvy, and having a sales rep talking down to me because I’m ‘some silly little computer illiterate girl’ thoroughly grinds my gears.  He hands me a DVI to HDMI cable, assuring me it’s the right one with a “Trust me, I work here.”.  Siiiigh.  I get home, plug it in, and amazingly he was right.  Okay, but that didn’t mean I liked being treated like an idiot.  But I’m big enough to admit he was right.  Cue a few hours of blowing my mind with being able to click something and have it happen INSTANTLY.

Incident Three:  My phone dies.

So you would think that perhaps this would be the end of it.  Nope.  My phone, which had already been sent in for repair twice for a faulty power connector, decides to break again the next day.  It won’t charge, and becomes a lovely paperweight for the rest of the day.  I get off work, go to best buy, and pay 150 dollars on a deposit for a loaner phone while they send it in again.  The loaner had a low battery, but I figured I could just charge it when I got home.  Yeah.  You can guess where this is going.  I get home, plug it in, nothing.  I go to work, plug it in to three different cords, nothing. So now, I have effectively exchanged one paperweight for another.  I’ll have to go back today to return the thing.  The technology gods are after me, I swear!

Seeing as this is a beast of a post, I’ll wait til the next one to talk about what happened when I got home yesterday.  That one does involve Liz, if only in a peripheral sense.  Till next time!