Category: Life

I'll admit I'm an abject failure at keeping a clean house. I wasn't always this way. I remember sending pictures of a new apartment I'd moved into in the early 2000s to a friend and he replied, "You moved into a model home?"

But lately…if I just ignore it, it will all go away, right?

I also never understood why everything in my dad's place would be absolutely covered with dust. "I start cleaning and just run out of energy," he'd say. I'm now at the age that he was when I started noticing his once-pristine environment becoming increasingly unkempt—and now I understand why.

It also doesn't help to have that extensive collection of tchotchkes that make dusting an absolute nightmare…

It's gotten to the point where Ben and I have discussed having someone come in once a  week toi give the place a quick once-over (dusting, vacuuming, mopping the floors), or at the least once-a-month deep clean (all the above plus doing the bathroom).

Last summer Ben and I were trying to figure out what do to over his fall break.  I had a ton of vacation time available, so taking a week off at the same time as his break was a no-brainer. He suggested a road trip to see Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art again and visit our friends Erik and Robert. I thought that would be a great idea since I could also get my 20 year cancer anniversary tattoo at the same time. (Erik is the only person in the world I allow to poke ink into my skin.)

But then Life Happened

Cancer. Yeah, that bastard. Ben's aunt is battling a particularly aggressive form at the moment, so we decided to eschew our road trip and instead to spend a little more time with her and perhaps just take her on a day trip to northern Arizona.

Even that fell through. She's in the middle of treatments, and while we could've still done it this weekend, all the poking and prodding have left her feeling wiped out. (#relatable)

And then life happened again.

Wednesday a week ago Ben started having vision problems with one eye. He wasn't able to get in to see his regular ophthalmologist, but he was able to get in for an emergency visit with mine first thing Friday morning. I wasn't planning on taking the day off, but I insisted on driving him since I knew he'd be dilated. It turned out that it was a detached retina. From the eye doctor we went to a retina specialist and then directly into surgery. He were back home by late afternoon.

He's doing well. His followup exam was good, and while he's still an eye-patched bandit, he's able to drive and will see (pardon the pun) the doctor again in two weeks.

Technology is Not My Friend

Robopsychosis

Several weeks ago I ran across a post where someone had mapped all the places he'd overnighted on a Google Map. That looks fun, I thought. I was able to get all my old domiciles and about 80% of my overnight trips mapped, but there were a couple years where I didn't have exact locations—but—because of my inveterate anal-retentiveness, I was sure I had emails from the venues locked away in old Outlook .pst files.

I was able to access all but one file of the files. For some reason, I'd password-protected it and after trying all my usual passwords, came up empty handed. Found a piece of Windows software that would unlock it. After downloading it and running it in demo mode, it indeed identified the password but required purchase to actually tell me what it was. Go figger.

So I bought the software, installed it on my work laptop (my only source for Windows) and entered the registration info. It wouldn't register because it was blocked by the Enterprise firewall!

See where this is going?

This is where I'm gonna lose a lot of you. I know it and I'm prepared to accept it. "That bitch be cray!"

I'd been wanting to get an inexpensive Windows box for a while. I didn't want to spend much or get anything high-powered, but there were definitely instances (like this password thing) where it could prove useful. I could "borrow" one of the machines that are scheduled for disposal from work, reformat it and put it to use, but I'm too honest to do something like that. For the past few years we've been buying the Dell micro Optiplex desktops for those users who still require desktop machines. They're tiny (about the size of a Mac Mini) and would suit my need perfectly. I looked on eBay and found a model from 2021 with 16GB RAM and a 256GB hard drive for $150. It seemed reasonable, and it even came with a warranty. I placed my order.

The box arrived a week later. The moment I started unpacking it I knew something was amiss. I pulled out the power supply brick and the power connector was not the correct form factor for these micro PCs. Then I pulled out the laptop.

Yup, they'd shipped the wrong unit.

Finally got that sorted out and received the micro desktop machine. Powered it up, and while it looked like it had been set up with a generic user account, it also came loaded with a bunch of crap I neither wanted or needed. I had a Dell Win10 Pro DVD, so I figured it would be an easy matter of wiping and reinstalling a fresh O/S.

Oh, you stupid, stupid man.

To my credit, the install went fine…but there were no device-specific drivers installed. No problem, I thought. I can go onto the Dell site with my Mac, download the drivers, put them on a USB stick and go from there.

The Dell recognized the USB DVD-ROM drive I had plugged in, but none of the USB sticks were seen by the O/S.

I ended up burning the bare minimum of drivers onto a CD from the Mac and attempted to load them. The two I needed most—graphics and wireless—would not load because the O/S was too old. Yup…the Windows 10 DVD I had was from the initial release back in 2018 or 2019 or whenever the fuck it came out.

Back to the Mac. Downloaded the latest Win10 ISO. Burned that onto a DVD and ran setup on the Dell. That brought me up to date. I was able to load the video and wireless drivers, and then finally go online to get everything else I needed.

I swear the universe was telling me I just didn't need to be doing this.

It was 1am by the time I got the Dell up and running. I'd been at it since before dinner.

The next day I went to load the .pst password cracking software and realized that when I purchased the license, I'd actually gotten the .pdf version!

FUCK ME SIDEWAYS IN TRAFFIC.

So, after spending another $30, I loaded (and successfully registered and activated) the software and finally got that .pst unlocked. And I found what I'd been looking for. (And also found all of the first emails Ben and I exchanged!)

Was it worth it? Yes…no…maybe? Seeing it all from the outside now, I realize how OCD it was; all that work and expense just to retrieve the half-dozen overnight locations that were missing from my map.

I noticed that the software company that has the password cracks for .pdfs and .psts also has one for Word docs. I have a several of those that I haven't been able to get into for more than a decade, so it might be worth dropping another $30 to gain access to those.

My only real disappointment when all was said and done was that this Dell 7050 can't do Windows 11 (it's not capable of running TPM 2.0), but as Ben pointed out, "You don't need Windows 11 to do what you're wanting to do."

#truth

And The Week Goes On

Admittedly, the rest of the week was reather relaxing. I solved the problem with my work laptop (something I spared you from in the previous section) negating the need to run back into the office before tomorrow (since I'm WFH) to reimage the infernal thing. Many afternoons were spent napping with my beloved or just hanging out with him at Starbucks, or with the dogs watching television. Other than getting the problem fixed with the work laptop, I haven't looked at work emails, have kept the work cell turned off, and feel like I can face tomorrow's undoubted onslaught of stupidity somewhat recharged.

From Doug:

Here's what matters in life:

Did you love someone, and did someone love you? 

Have you had some fun, shared some laughs, and helped a few people along the way? 

Did you make the world an ever-so-slightly, infinitesimally better place?

If you can answer these questions yes, shake your own hand in congratulations. You're a success. Continue that success for as long as you can, and don't worry too much about getting your act together.

Remember this one? It was my go-to scent from about 1979 thru 1986, and if you weren't wearing Polo you were probably Halston. I hadn't thought about it in years but rediscovered it after taking a detour down an internet rabbit hole while trying to remember the name of the Pierre Cardin cologne (the one in the phallic bottle) I wore prior to 1979.

I found it on Amazon of all places. Turns out they never stopped making it, but I haven't seen it in at a fragrance counter in years. (Of course, I haven't been to a fragrance counter since the 2000s, so maybe that has something to do with it.)

Even though they've altered the formula a bit since the 80s (current regulations apparently forbid the use of real oakmoss), it still smells just as amazing as I remember it.

…and what a strange journey this has been.

I won't say it's not kind of weird being back here after everything that happened. In some ways it's like we never left (I still instinctively question whether I turned off the alarm before opening the rear door to let the dogs out), but in other ways, because so much of the interior has been replaced/painted/upgraded, it's almost like moving into a new house. One thing Ben and I emphatically agree upon is that despite everything, this place is Home.

It's not been easy. The place was still far from move-in ready when we arrived with the movers a week ago, but we had no choice. Now, a week later (as I'm sure you can tell from my lack of posts) we're moved in and a lot of the work that wasn't done a week ago has been completed…but we're still nowhere near unpacked.

Adding to the chaos is the fact we're now having plumbing issues, that may ultimately involve jackhammering out the floor in Ben's office to replace the part of the drain line that leads from our only bathroom. Gotta love 80-year-old houses!

While Ben did not have the same luxury, I took this week off work because I knew what a task lay before us to get resettled. But you know, I may, in fact, take a break today from unpacking just to decompress and get caught up on my online life.

This move has been a killer. I'm not 28 years old any more, despite what my mind and maturity level may say.

Everything is back in the new/old house. Construction isn't complete, but it's far enough along (we have a working kitchen and bathroom) that we can make it work while things are finished up. The dishwasher still needs to be connected, bathroom lighting/mirror needs to be hung, closets in all the bedrooms put back us usable condition, baseboards need to be installed, touch up painting, a few switch and outlet covers still need to be mounted, porch light needs to be installed, front door refinished…the list goes on. But at least we're back and it feels like home.

Now the toughest part starts. Unpacking and trying to find shit!

For those of you who are new or who haven't been following, Ben and I are moving back into our old house. The movers come Thursday. The renovations took a bit longer than originally estimated (and to be honest, are still ongoing), but we have a signed lease and come hell or high water we're out of here by 11:59 pm Friday. This is the last weekend before the big move, so it's crunch time. Since we are hiring movers to disassemble, load, drive, deliver, and reassemble, we need as much in boxes as humanly possible. I finally got serious last night after ignoring it for too many weeks and got my vinyl boxed. I would say at this point we're 80% of the way there with everything and anything that isn't packed yet is stuff we'll need for the next five days.

Yeah, right. Who am I kidding?

At least I'm no longer having nightmares about the moving truck pulling up with nothing having been packed yet.

Hopefully for the last time.

We saw the new (old) place yesterday, and after seeing what had been done to the house, it was an absolute no brainer to tell Amanda and James we wanted to move back in. (For those of you who have been following less than 2 years, there was a fire.)

I mean, the moment we walked in—even though the place is still not ready for immediate occupancy—it was like coming home. That's home with the capital "H."

The house has been completely rewired and brought to up to code. The entirety of the A/C system has been replaced. A new heat pump has been placed on the roof (the previous one was on a slab at the back of the house) and new ducting has been installed throughout the house, bringing ducts into rooms that previously had none. The work was done professionally, and is being inspected by the City to make sure everything is up to snuff.

The kitchen as well is being completely refurbished, including new appliances. This weekend James is hip-deep in refinishing all the existing cabinets (which had been pulled out completely to allow for the installation of new drywall and electrical). It makes sense to refinish and reuse these cabinets; they're in great shape, original to the house and made of solid wood.  (Something you're not going to get from IKEA.) They're being finished in a medium forest green color, and they're planning on putting in white quartz countertops…and a dishwasher/disposal! (Neither of which were present in the house previously.) And speaking of IKEA, James and Amanda obviously liked the IKEA under-cabinet lights we'd installed when we lived there, because they're putting in permanent ones now and have replaced the single overhead light fixture with a series of recessed can lights.

We're losing the gas range (with the exception of the water heater that caused this whole fiasco, the house is now all-electric), but Ben, surprisingly, is fine with that.

The color scheme of the house has also been changed. No longer landlord beige throughout, it's a bright white with accent walls in several of the rooms painted a rich blue-gray. It looks good.

They're letting us pick out the new ceiling fans that will be in each room, as well as making a few other recommendations.

The only disappointment is that except for a new floor and a coat of paint—and I assume the refinishing of the vanity cabinet, the bathroom is remaining as it was. One of our requests was a full width, full height mirror over the vanity instead of the 1940s-era medicine cabinet, so that will be done as well.

So when are we moving? James estimated that he will have the place ready by the end of January. I think that's optimistic, but maybe the fact that we're moving back in will be the impetus he needs to get it finished. Since our current lease ends at the end of December, we've notified our current landlord that we'll be exercising the month-to-month option he offered, and we'll be out of here by the end of February.

Moving is going to be a bitch, but I'm more confident now that 2023 might actually be a good year.

…Jesus Christ, when did I get so fucking old? And why does this seem to be my default facial expression for pretty much everything these days?

Never mind. I know the answer to that second one: the last six years.