Geeks Don't Have to Rule the World

Seriously, what did we do before the internet? Monday was my last day of work before the long-awaited summer vacation and what do I come home to? A computer without an internet connection. Of course, the Xbox seems to be working fine. Just my luck…maybe Matt has something to do with this…

Normally, when our computer acts up, I wait for Matt to get home to try to solve the problem, but because I’m on VACATION, it is vital that I get this problem solved as quickly as possible. Also, because of the generation we grew up in, our combined knowledge of computers really is quite minimal, maybe equal to that of a current 2nd grader. Most of the time we pretend to know what the problem is so we click on several different icons thinking that we can solve it on our own, but if one of us does fix it, it's usually a result of sheer luck.

This time it is only minutes before I am on the phone with a Comcast technician. Thankfully she can’t see me trembling from nervousness as I try to pretend that I know what she’s talking about and that I know what I’m doing. First, she tells to me to click on the “tools” button and I immediately go for the “start” menu and cannot find tools. She’s already onto the 3rd or 4th step and I’m still looking for tools. We’re only 30 seconds into our conversation and I have to admit to her that “I can’t find tools.” She tells me that it’s located on Internet Explorer and of course I look in the top right corner of my screen and immediately feel like a moron. Great. There’s no redeeming myself after this one. Next, she has me telling her which lights are flashing on the modem and the router. Really, I am just relieved that I was able to figure out the difference between the modem and the router without having to ask. Alas, after following through with a few more orders, I realize that we (and by “we” I mean “she”) cannot diagnose the problem. I will not have internet access today. My vacation is ruined.

It has now been 5 days and we still do not have internet access because Matt’s “guy” is on vacation and Geeksquad costs $79 for one hour! Right now, I am at work just to check email and type this post.

The internet has become a crutch for people around the world. Kids today do not know a life without the internet. And it’s quite evident; I have witnessed, first hand, how much they rely on it (Stop plagiarizing already! You’re gonna get caught!). I, on the other hand, DO know a life without the internet and, believe it or not, I am grateful for that time.

I was first introduced to a computer in elementary school. Once a week, we would go to the computer lab to play Oregon Trail. I remember the terrible graphics and assigning my own family members’ names to each character in my wagon. In hindsight, I’m shocked that more students didn’t end up in the guidance office in tears after playing this game. After all, it’s got to be a bit traumatic having your brother die of cholera on the Oregon Trail. I also remember the teacher (when she was in a good mood) allowing us to make 10-page long “Happy Birthday” signs in which each letter was made up of several smaller versions of the same letter and the paper had the perforated edges that you had to tear off.

My computer use was pretty consistent all the way up through high school. In middle school, Mrs. Reber taught us how to type using "QWERTY" in between reminding us that her name was a palindrome. From middle school to high school we had one computer in each classroom and student use was typically limited to “lab time.” I knew only a few people that actually owned a computer and, unfortunately for me, it wasn’t a priority for my family (although we had every single video game system that you can imagine).

When I started having to write long papers in high school, I actually asked for a typewriter one Christmas. (Of course I got the damn typewriter because we always got everything we asked for.) Even in high school I was pulling all-nighters, typing papers while lying on my stomach on the living room floor, bottle of white out in hand and papers strewn all over the room (usually ripped out of the typewriter in a fit of rage over a margin mistake). I look back on this and simply laugh. If I had a computer, I could’ve written those papers in ¼ of the time, gotten a good night’s sleep and maybe even stayed for the entire school day the following day rather than get dismissed after turning in the paper.

Then came college. Unlike every freshman entering college THIS fall, I arrived at UMass without a computer. My wealthy roommate, whose parents were both doctors, obviously brought one of her own and graciously allowed me to use it. We were given our own email addresses when we arrived, but I can’t recall using it or giving it out until junior year. Junior year was the same year that one of our “guy friends” got a DVD player for Christmas and I watched a DVD player for the very first time. The cell phone, believe it or not, did not come until AFTER my college graduation.

Why am I reminiscing? Well, I’ve recently come to appreciate the generation in which I grew up. Maybe I will never fully understand the ins and outs of a computer and I’ll always have to rely on someone else to fix my computer problems, but I’m okay with that. I like the fact that I knew a time without a computer, without the internet, without a cell phone. Things seemed a lot simpler then. Don’t get me wrong, I’m certainly grateful for each and every groundbreaking technological advancement (a big shout out to Apple, especially, for making the iPod), but I feel very privileged to have experienced a time without these “things.” And I’m hopeful that, when given he opportunity to raise my own kids, I can bring back some of the simplicity that I experienced as a kid and so vividly remember as an adult.

Have a happy 4th of July!
I will be away all week in a beach house with no computer.
And, suddenly, I’m looking forward to it.

nem•e•sis –noun, plural –ses

1. something that a person cannot conquer, achieve, etc.: The performance test proved to be my nemesis.
2. an opponent or rival whom a person cannot best or overcome.
3. (initial capital letter) Classical Mythology. the goddess of divine
retribution.
4. an agent or act of retribution or punishment.

(From www.dictionary.reference.com)

It’s no secret that I’m passionate about the things I love and passionate about the things I hate. “Nemesis” happens to be one of my favorite words of all time. I love to overuse it by throwing it around unnecessarily in order to express (and exaggerate) my hatred for someone or something. In fact, I use it so much that last year my friend, Amber, and I had a conversation in which we were trying to figure out the plural form of nemesis and we came up with a lot of great alternatives that we still use today.

Nemeses, as you know, have been made famous by comic books and movies, but we can’t deny that we all have at least one of our own. Maybe our nemeses aren't as notorious as Darth Vader and Lex Luthor and our reasons for hating them aren't as legitimate as Luke Skywalker's and Superman's, but we DO have them.

Think about it.

You have your childhood nemesis, your high school nemesis, your college nemesis, your workplace nemesis, your neighborhood nemesis, your town nemesis, your gym nemesis, your celebrity nemesis, your political nemesis, your pro sports team nemesis…

And the list goes on.

Even Little Jerry has nemeses. Like the stray cat that taunts him by sitting at the end of our walkway and staring at him through the window, Scooby (our next door neighbors’ stupid Pomeranian that always jumps on his back), the vet, a stuffed Wicket doll, squirrels, bridges, the hairdryer, the vacuum.

In most cases, my nemeses don’t even know that they’re my nemeses and, in many cases, my nemeses aren’t even people. It doesn't make us bad people for having nemeses; you must remember that the nemesis is the bad person/thing, not you!

The following is a list of people/things I’ve referred to as “my nemesis” over the years. You’ll notice that many of the things on my list are completely irrational. In fact, I went to a BBQ at my friend Jessica’s this weekend and a former nemesis (who will remain nameless, for now) happened to show up there. When I told everyone that my nemesis had arrived, they asked me why he was my nemesis. Now, in my own mind, the reasons are endless, but the only response I could verbalize at the time was that he wears tube socks with sneakers and shorts. Apparently Elaine Benes has rubbed off on me.

People:
• Steve Carrell
• People who beat me at trivia games & sports
• Anyone who doesn’t wipe down machines or rack weights at the gym
• George W. Bush
• Paris Hilton
• Guys who wear wife beaters out in public
• Girls who (still) wear Uggs with mini skirts
• PETA
• The people down the street who leave dirty diapers, single shoes, filthy stuffed animals, Heineken bottles, winter jackets & last night’s leftover casserole strewn all over their yard
• Ben Stiller
• Tom Cruise
• People who don’t pick up after their dogs
• People who tailgate me when I’m already going 85 mph in the fast lane
• Curt Schilling
• Bon Jovi
• People who go to the gym for social reasons and never break a sweat

Things/Objects:
• Ford Mustangs
• Numerous jars/bottles that I’ve been unable to open
• Mosquitoes
• Sundays
• Wasabi
• The red light on my office phone that indicates I have a message waiting
• Bruises
• Pimples
• The sun
• The rain
• The wind
• The snow
• The Herald
• Jagermeister
• Xbox 360
• The line at the post office
• Football
• The alarm clock
• Shoes that gave me blisters
• WAAF
• “Spoof” movies
• The scale

Actions/Activities (strange, I know):
• Drying my hair
• Folding laundry
• Finding a parking space at the mall
• Running
• Emptying the dishwasher
• Making the bed
• Putting on sunscreen
• Engaging in small talk
• Trying things on in the fitting room
• Waking up

So, tell me, who or what is your nemesis? You know you have one...or ten.

Happy Father's Day, Dad

You'll be happy to know that I'm remembering to "be good" and to "be careful." But mostly, and on this day especially, I just like remembering you.

Not For Love of the Game

I went to work today...saw 6 Celtics shirts.

After work I went to the gym...saw 3 Celtics shirts.

Then I went to the grocery store...saw 2 Celtics shirts.

That's more Celtics shirts in 1 day than I've seen in the past 10 years!

What I can't escape more than Celtics shirts, though, are the complaints about the 9 pm tipoffs. If I hear one more person talk about how unfair it is to the kids, I might lose my mind. Literally. Do these people not understand that the NBA is trying to maximize its earning potential? And hasn't anyone realized that it simply means staying up late for a maximum of 7 nights out of 365 days in a year (366 this year)? You mean to tell me that kids haven't stayed up late for other, more ridiculous reasons? What about all those times they wet the bed and then have to stand there next to the bed while you tear off all the sheets, put them in the washing machine and remake the bed with clean sheets? You mean to tell me they got a good night's sleep all those nights? At least this is something they WANT to stay awake for.

Listen, the weather is warm, it's the end of the school year, summer is just around the corner and Boston is watching its 3rd pro sports team play in the finals in less than a year. No one should be complaining.

So while everyone else is whining, I'm simply wondering whether or not tonight will be the night that I, personally, am able to stay awake for an entire Celtics game for the first time in my life (without actually being at the game). This is a sign I'm getting old, I know. But please don't confuse my wondering with everyone else's whining. I have no problem admitting that I have fallen asleep for each and every one of the playoff games so far. And I'm fine with that. I don't claim to be a Superfan. Just like I stayed up to watch the Kooks on Monday night, I plan to stay awake to watch a Celtics playoff game when it actually matters (by my definition, that's when one team is about to win its 4th game). Until then, I will do my best to stay awake, but I can't make any promises. And here's why...

Just the other night I was home alone and I sat down to watch Game 3 by myself. After 5 minutes, I realized that I hadn't even been paying attention to the game, which is strange because I was staring at the TV for those 5 minutes. What was I doing during that time? I honestly have no idea, but I DO know that my lack of attention has nothing to do with a lack of understanding. Basketball is one of the easier sports to follow (and I MAY have hit the parquet, myself, back in the day for the Town Rec Department).

I guess, just like anything else, my opinion has changed. The Celtics playing in the finals has made me realize that I just don't LOVE basketball. Add that to the list with football.

It's no surprise that baseball is, by far, my favorite professional sport. But the truth is, I will watch ANY sport if it means hanging out and having a good time with friends and family. Case in point: I have despised soccer since I was in kindergarten. Half way through our first game, I ran off the field to tell my mother that I was quitting. Yet, 23 years later (2 years ago), I find myself at a bar in the North End watching every second of the World Cup finals and having the time of my life. If only we didn't have to wait 4 years for every World Cup!

When I was younger (in high school and college), I was a Superfan of Boston sports, in general. I've gone through phases that have included obsessions with Dwight Evans, Don Sweeney, Tim Naehring, Drew Bledsoe and Nomar Garciaparra, just to name a few. I was an avid fan of Sportscenter and WEEI and, for a girl, was actually fairly knowledgeable about sports (specifically baseball).

Part of the reason this Superfan behavior manifested itself was because I wanted the boys to think I was cool. I think it worked, at least for a short period of time. As I've grown older, I've played witness to the growing number of "pink hats" and female sportscasters in the professional sports world. Call me sexest, but I just can't find it in me to take them seriously - no matter how knowledgeable they are. This realization has helped me put an end to my own charades. No longer do I feel the need to be overly knowledgeable about sports, just to impress. This doesn't mean that I am no longer knowledgeable about sports; it just means that I've chosen to reveal fewer thoughts and opinions around sports. After all, I don't aspire to be the next Tina Cervasio or Heidi Watney; they annoy people more than they inform people.

Tonight, I am watching the Celtics by myself again. So, excuse me while I go fall asleep during the game.

LOST: Blackberry Pearl, Monday Night at The Paradise

If we've had a discussion since last Friday then you probably already know that I ended up scoring tickets for last night’s Kooks show at the Paradise. After having a few beverages one night last week, I was able to “win” two tickets on eBay. Some people choose to drink and drive, others drink and dial. I guess I’m guilty of drunk online shopping.

UNLIKE drunk driving, you're not risking your life and the lives of others, you won’t end up in jail, your reputation won’t be tarnished and you won’t lose your job.

And UNLIKE drunk dialing, you won’t end up regretfully sleeping with an ex or, even worse, sleeping with someone you met at a lame Faneuil Hall bar, doing the walk of shame the following morning with raccoon eyes and your shirt on backwards and then, of course, having to make a trip to CVS to purchase an EPT two weeks later.

Instead, drunk shopping allows you to make irrational purchases that you will either A.) immediately justify upon receiving or B.) fight mall traffic in order to return for a refund (keeping in mind that your shipping and handling fees are non-refundable so basically you just spent $12 on a frustrating mall experience).

At first, the Kooks tickets (or any tickets, for that matter) might seem like an irrational purchase worth a refund. It's true that if I were thinking rationally, at the time, I may have argued that the tickets weren't going to be worth the money because it’s just a one-time event that’s over in a few hours and I’ll have to shell out more money when I get there, yada, yada, yada. Concert tickets are NOT a pair of True Religions or Tory Burch flats that I can justify as an “investment.” However, they ARE non-refundable. So option B wasn’t really an option, in this case, was it?

After using the process of elimination, I chose option A and immediately justified my purchase. After all, I wasn’t able to get tickets to last year’s sold out show, I already have too many regrets about passing up other shows at my favorite small venues and I’m President of the Kooks fan club (so my brothers’ say). Not to mention, the tickets only cost me $10 more than the face value. Those are pretty good rationales, right?

I’m happy to report that purchasing these tickets turned out to be one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Yes, the show was on a Monday night, the 18+ factor made me feel like a coug and I’m now sans cell phone, but it was totally worth it! Despite a mediocre review from Joan Anderman of the Boston Globe, I thought the Kooks were AMAZING live (did you really think I'd say otherwise?)! The fact that her name is "Joan" tells me that she's too old to fully appreciate them.

Anyway, the best part was that they wasted NO time talking to the audience (except to say “we’re the Kooks” in their awesome, thick British accents). This, in turn, allowed them to fit in most of the tunes from their 2 albums. After all, I go to concerts to hear live music, not to take pictures and scream when the lead singer disingenuously tells the audience that Boston fans are the BEST!

If you’ve never heard them before, please download a few songs. It’s British pop, it’s fun, it’s catchy and what makes them stand out, in my opinion, is the fact that they don't pretend to be anything they are not and their voices are so distinctly British (unlike the British people who typically sing with American accents).

Some song suggestions: Naïve, She Moves in Her Own Way, Always Where I Need to Be, Shine On and Seaside (which we played at our wedding).

Oh, and by the way, if you’re trying to call me, it will probably take a few days for me to either A.) buy a new cell phone or B.) find my old one. I’m guessing I’m going to have to go with option A again. And you'll be happy to know that I won’t be having any drinks before that purchase.

Someone's Paying Attention.

That was fast. It looks like someone answered the question from my last post.

Although I don't know Paul Dergarabedian (president of Media by the Numbers) personally, he must read my blog. I found the following quote from him in yesterday's Opinion section of the Boston Globe:

"This is to women what Indiana Jones and 'Star Wars,' let's say, are to men."
(referring to the $55.7 million earned by Sex and the City)

In other words, this guy's telling me that I'm a dude. As you can imagine, this wasn't exactly the answer I was looking for.

If only more women would realize that beneath all the action in Star Wars and Indiana Jones, there are two love stories.

I Prefer Beer, Thank You.

Is it possible that Kung Fu Panda has what it takes?

I sure hope so. Otherwise we're counting on You Don't Mess with the Zohan. And we all know Adam Sandler has passed his prime. (Although, after writing this I learned that Zohan got a better Globe review than Panda.)

What am I getting at, exactly? I am looking, hoping, praying for Sex and the City to once and for all leave my life forever.

Four years ago, I felt a huge sense of relief when "SATC" finally went off the air. I was hopeful that American women would, at long last, move on and find real, distinguished, noble "heroines" to model themselves after. Little did I know that a movie was in the works and the Sex Superfans were extremely loyal.

No matter how hard I try, no matter how girly I try to be, I will never fully understand the hype around this show. Seriously, what is so "groundbreaking" about 4 women sipping cosmopolitans, obsessing over shoes and talking about sex? Sex jokes are old and juvenile, not groundbreaking. Let's leave the giggling to the teenagers.

The fact that so many women have been enraptured by this show and its characters has made me embarrassed to be female. Not that I possess any feminist qualities, whatsoever, but I’m pretty sure Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Susan B. Anthony have spent the past week rolling around in their graves. Thank you, SJP, for leading us to this regression.

On the surface, the show appears as though it would be right up my alley. It’s about 4 females. I’m female. The women are “older.” I’m getting there. The women are very much into fashion. Me too. It takes place in N.Y. I had a blast the one time I went there.

That's where it ends.

At first, I was slightly alarmed by the fact that I did not like the show. While every other woman in the world was raving about it, I was still trying to find one redeeming quality. Was there something wrong with me?

So I asked myself…

Am I not feminine enough? Maybe I’m not old enough? Maybe I’m not fashionable enough? I certainly don’t earn enough money to purchase a pair of Manolos and the characters do take a lot of absurd fashion risks that even the most famous celebrities would laugh at.

Have I not spent enough time in NY? Maybe I’m not successful enough? Maybe it's because I'd choose a beer over a cosmo any day of the week. Or maybe I don’t talk about sex enough?

Or maybe…

I’m not narcissistic enough, rich enough, dramatic enough, materialistic enough, self-absorbed enough, desperate enough, raunchy enough, exhibitionistic enough, cliche enough, whiny enough, single enough, promiscuous enough, man-crazy enough, vulgar enough or slutty enough.

I definitely gossip enough. And shop enough. But these are things I try not to advertise because I'M EMBARRASSED BY THEM.

Honestly, I've given the show a try, on a few occasions, but I can't stomach an entire episode. I just don't care about these 4 women. And I certainly don't connect with them. On ANY level. In fact, I'm pretty sure the only people that have a real connection with these characters are spoiled housewives with too much time on their hands and women who are looking for an outlet because they're feeling miserable in their own relationships.

How did these women become our role models? What appealing qualities do they possess? Or is it the things they possess that are appealing?

For as much as I love fashion, shopping, gossip and a fun G.N.O., I certainly do not find myself yearning for the lifestyles these women have (that's called jealousy, ladies, and these women are not worthy of our jealousy). Face it, if you take away the fancy, designer clothes and move the characters to another city, all that's left is 4 not-so-attractive, foul-mouthed cougars.

In that case, we wouldn't be calling them heroines. We'd be calling them WT.