::headdesk::

So, this week, my internet went out. Now, I HATE whenever our net or phone has issues. Why? Because our service provider is absolute crap, and every time I talk to them, I wind up wanting to pull my hair out. We have NEVER had a positive customer service experience with them.

We're not the only ones. Read the Yelp reviews.

Actual, word for word conversation with the IT rep.

(Preface, I'm pretty tech savvy. I've networked the whole house, so I know what I'm doing (generally). Prior to calling in, I've reset the modem, the router, changed the cables and lines to make sure that wasn't the issue, and switched the modem to an older one we had left from a move. I know at this point, it's not us, it's them, and I tell the tech what I've tested.)

Tech: So, the "Internet" light on the modem. Is it on?
Me: No. The only lights on are "Power", "DSL", and "Ethernet". The others are off.
Tech: There's a green light underneath where it says "Internet". Can you tell me if it's lit?
Me: (WTF?) It's not on. It's off. The only lights on are "Power", "DSL", and "Ethernet".
Tech: So it's not on at all?
Me: (Seriously?) No.
Tech: Hmm, okay. You must have a problem with your Internet.
Me: (Why the hell do you think I'm calling you?)
Tech: Okay, pull up an Internet Explorer and go to (company's website).
Me: I'm getting the "Internet Explorer cannot display webpage" error.
Tech: Are you sure you typed it in correctly? (COMPANY'S WEBSITE)
Me: Yes, I'm quite sure. It says it can't display the webpage, probably because I'm not connected to the internet.
Tech: Can you read it back to me?
Me: (Company's website, very slowly, letter for letter.)
Tech: Can you refresh the page and try again?
Me: Same message. "Internet Explorer cannot display webpage"
Tech: Hm. I guess your internet really is out. Okay, well, let's see if we can fix that for you.

Seriously? SERIOUSLY?

It would not have surprised me in the slightest if Ashton Kutcher had come knocking on my door at that point.

Turns out, the modem had flatlined. The tech wanted me to buy a brand new one. Um, no, THEIR modem dies, THEIR responsibility.

A couple years ago, the same thing happened, and I DID wind up buying a new modem. The old one, I wasn't entirely convinced was dead, so I kept it in storage. It was that old modem that I'd switched out with the new one to test whether or it was a modem or router issue.

Guess what? When the tech heard that I wasn't going to be buying a new modem (again!) and I started to get a little snippy, suddenly he offered to "reprogram" my old router. You know. The one that I had to pay to replace a couple years ago, because it was dead.

Turns out, "reprogramming" the modem was as simple as opening the modem in Window's Explorer and typing in a new username and password. So, a couple years ago, I got scammed hardcore and tricked into buying a new modem when the old one was just fine, thank you. I would have been scammed again if I'd caved to the tech's suggestion and purchased a brand new modem again.

Before you ask, yes, we're out of our contract and leaving this company. We already have a new program lined up. And damnit, I'm keeping the "newer" modem that they now say is dead and needed to be replaced. Because who knows, in two years, a friend may need it, and all it needs is to be "reprogrammed" to work just fine.

Children are people, and so am I.

Recently, Malaysian Airlines took the bold step of banning children from their first class cabins. Since then, several other organizations have jumped on the bandwagon, including other airlines, restaurants, and some movie theaters. For an interesting article on this phenomenon, check Yahoo Shine.For the counterpoint to the article, click here.

I have to say, I see this argument from both sides.

As a consumer and a broke-ass-but-making-it chick, when I spend money on a treat for myself, it's kind of a big deal for me. Going out to dinner or a movie is an unusual event in my world, so when I do so, only to find that there is a kid at the table behind me, continually throwing his Hot Wheels toy at my back and having it land under my feet, I'm annoyed. Yes, this happened, yes I glared at the mom, no she didn't care.

I've gone to movies (not kid's movies) and had parents who had screaming kids remain in the theater and drown out the film. When someone (rightly) got a movie theater employee to ask the person to step out and calm their child, they loudly refused, proclaiming that they'd paid to watch to movie, and that's what they were going to do.

When I worked as a server, I very nearly scalded and permanently scarred at least a dozen kids when they mistook my section for a jungle gym and raced around me, causing me to scramble to keep my tray from falling.

I'd like to say it's the parent's responsibility to keep their kids in check, and not the airline/restaurant/theater. However, regardless of where you stand in the debate, I think we can ALL agree that parents do not take kindly to having anyone suggesting they might NOT be in control of their kids.

But, on the other hand, a ban is condemning ALL parents and kids to the same fate, instead of formulating a solution to actually resolve the issue at hand.

There are many, many good parents who know what movies are appropriate to take their kids to, that teach kids to sit quietly at the dinner table (and *gasp* bring ACTIVITIES to keep them entertained!), and are respectful enough to remove a child having a tantrum from a situation that really doesn't need a tantrum.

There are many good parents who enjoy taking their kids out for the fact that it teaches them social skills. After all, how can we expect young people to know what's appropriate when they're teenagers or adults when they haven't been allowed to navigate life in public as a child?

Why should a well-behaved child be deprived of the chance to see Swan Lake because a counterpart in her age group couldn't be contained?

What's the cost on the flip-side when we prevent younger people from experiencing life in public, from being exposed to culture and cuisine in the adult world?

Honestly, I'd be supportive of a movie theater having a no-children-after-9-pm policy. Then I know that I can go see a film in peace. Besides, if you're bringing a small child to an adult-rated movie after 9pm, I'd offer that you may have some lessons to learn in parenting, anyway. I'd also be supportive of restaurants the exercise their rights to refuse service to anyone by refusing to serve the couple whose child just knocked over a table in my section.

There are, quite frankly, some places that kids SHOULDN'T be, and some parents simply aren't responsible enough to acknowledge that.

But punishing ALL children for the actions of a few bad parents? Not appropriate.

Leaving Facebook

Well, I've done it. I've officially removed my presence from Facebook. I took the big plunge last  night and deleted my Facebook account. Not deactivated, deleted.

In doing so, I've discovered that Facebook is the best heroin on the planet, and Mark Zuckerberg is quite possibly the most manipulative dealer of the good stuff. Seriously.

Did you know that it's nearly impossible to delete your Facebook account? Oh, sure, you can go into settings and deactivate your account, no problem. Know what that does? Leads you to a Guilt Page where you'll see pictures of your friends and a message of "but we'll miss you sooo much!". If you decide to take the plunge, your account still stays there, waiting in limbo for you to realize your insanity and run back. If you haven't remembered to turn off your notifications, Facebook will continue to send you reminder emails and text messages about your friend's updates and events. Not...very...'deactivated'...huh?

No, in order to delete your account, you actually have to search the servers for the proper link, then swear you mean it, then confirm by email, then there's a 14 day waiting period. (What the heck, I'm leaving a social network site, not buying a gun!). If, after 14 days, you haven't caved to the addiction and logged in, they'll delete your page.

No. Really. You can't just quit.

And THEN, thanks to the Terms of Service that we all so blindly clicked, they have to delete your current page, but THEY ARE ALLOWED TO KEEP BACKUP COPIES ON THEIR SERVERS! You know. For future tracking and marketing purposes of age, gender, employment history, contact information, education history...and considering how noble and ethical Facebook has been with their privacy up to this point, what do you think the odds are that they're going to protect that data? Ask yourself this: If they didn't want your data for some reason, then why did they go to all the trouble of writing it into the terms of service?

But you know how I REALLY know that Facebook is heroin?

Because as I sat there with my finger over the button, I kept hearing all of these little voices in my head.
"But all of my family is there!"
"But how am I supposed to network with my coworkers?"
"But I have so many photos there!"
"How is anyone supposed to get ahold of me?"
"What if everyone gets mad at me, because they think I've unfollowed them, not deleted my page?"

And with every passing voice, the ability to delete got harder and harder.

Then I thought, what the hell is wrong with me? Since when did this social network site become the only way to reach me? If my family wants to talk to me, they can pick up the phone. My coworkers, lets face it, focus more on the social and less on the networking, and I'm quite frankly tired of seeing their drunk asses dancing on tables, then lecturing me about professionalism at work. Photos are transferrable. I actually used Picasa to import all of my albums and photos directly from FB. And I have an email address, twitter account, phone, and Google account, if anyone really needs to get ahold of me.

Here's how I know I'm a true addict:

I cannot bring myself to delete a second, small, carefully guarded account. My actual name/face/real info account is long gone, deleted last night and existing only in the shadow's of  Zuckerberg's servers. My fake name/face/false info/unsearchable account? I can't delete. I'm too scared to delete it. I can't quit everything cold turkey.

Maybe this one small fake account with it's barely-into-double-digits friend's list is my version of methadone; the way to wean off the Big Bad with minimal impact. Or maybe I'm just fooling myself and continuing to feed my addiction on a much smaller scale.

Facebook, WHY CAN'T I QUIT YOU!?!

Here's some more reading, if you're interested:
How to Delete your Facebook
10 Reasons to Delete your Facebook
More Reasons you Should Still Quit Facebook
Facebook Tracks and Traces Everyone: Like This!

Lessons from Norway/ Lessons from America

By now, everyone has heard about the horrific tragedies in Norway. From the moment the breaking news posted, my heart broke and I wept for those hurt and killed in this senseless violence. Coupling the shock with the fact that I have someone dear to my heart in Norway (who I now know to be safe, by the way), the events of that day rocked me to the core.

I also learned an awful lot about some colleagues and friends in the process.

First, there was the appalling jump to conclusion that the perpetrators had to be Muslim, probably Al-Qaeda. The media was the first on this bandwagon, bringing up the cartoon that had been published several years ago that elicited violent protest from Al-Qaeda. Then, the people in my real-life world jumped on that tact, arguing that the "damn Muslims" are "always out to kill people", all Muslims "should be watched closely" or "we'll have another September 11, 2001".

Then it turned out that it *gasp* wasn't a Muslim at all. He didn't have any of the characteristics of what the majority thinks a terrorist looks like. In fact, with his blonde hair, chiseled chin, and blue eyes (and Christian beliefs), he looked more likely to have stepped out of an Abercrombie & Fitch ad than a terrorist cell.

Suddenly, all of the arguing about "those Muslims" disappeared. And, I noticed a conspicuous lack of accusations against fundamentalists as a collective. It felt a bit hypocritical to me, this tendency to blame the actions of one Muslim on EVERY Muslim, and that the actions of one Christian only reflect on that one Christian. I commented so on a friend's social network page. And was completely lambasted by the followers. Hardcore.

(P.S. For the record, I'm not here to argue whether or not he was a "real Christian". He identified himself as such, so that's what I'm basing my debate on.)

Look, I'm not honestly suggesting that we start looking at everyone who wears crosses with scrutiny, I'm not suggesting the Christians need to be more strongly vetted before they're allowed on airplanes or in public spaces etc. Profiling and blaming based solely on religious affiliation is wrong and inexcusable. I'm saying there are much more effective methods for judging whether the guy next door is going to bomb the coliseum than the religious symbol that hangs around their neck.

But the suggestion that Christians could possibly be as violent as a Muslim struck a knee-jerk reaction, and poorly articulated accusations. And every single one of the critical comments I received actually proved my point moreso than anything I could say.

Let's face it; Al-Qaeda is a form of extreme fundamentalist Islam. Go to your neighborhood mosque and ask, you'll find out. The suspect in Norway holds extremely fundamentalist Christian views. I think we can all agree that taking ANY religion to fundamentalist, violent extremes is not a good thing, right?

The second lesson I learned this week had to do with the death of Amy Winehouse. Look, I adored her sultry voice, and pondered how many cans of hairspray it took to keep that beehive up. She was an artist, and she had talent. But she also had demons, and was anyone really shocked at the news that she'd been found deceased?

Nonetheless, it flooded the news. The major networks continued to put the story of her death at the top of the hour, above the looming debt crisis, and above the rising death toll in Norway. My social network feeds, which had been nearly silent on Norway flooded with tweets about Amy Winehouse.

Ah, America. Where the death of a celebrity battling addiction overshadows financial ruin and the deaths of dozens of youth at a summer camp. Was anyone else absolutely shocked by this level of coverage, or was it simply just business as usual?