Well, my secret is finally out. Not that it was too much of a secret to begin with. I mean, anyone who knows me, or has been briefly aquantainced with me, or worked with me, or read my blog (ha--gotcha, didn't I--I KNOW You're out there, faithful one(s)), or especially those who live with me, I have a problem. It's not like I try to hide it, um, okay , maybe a little. And yes I like to do it when I'm by myself. But that's only because it's more special that way. And I've never taken to sneaking into the bathroom to do it during dinner (there WAS that one moment right after Thanksgivinig dinner, but I fought that urge and won, so stop glaring at me that way! Okay here goes....
Hi, I'm mysuestories (that REALLY is my name...I'm having it changed legally!). And I'm an internet junkie.
Okay, I guess you want the whole sordid story. It's actually a brief one, because it is a sickness that creeps up on you real fast. It started at work. The occassional funny email forwarded amongst colleagues. Next thing I know, I'm visiting weird news sites (try http://www.newsoftheweird.com/)Some of those stories are hysterical. Then they started appearing in my email inbox (http://www.truestories.com/) and then the crime people found me (http://www.truecrime.com/) with gruesome detailed crimes of the past and all their colorful cast of characters.
Next thing you know, I'm searching for ANYTHING interesting to read. The virtual library is virtually boundless. I was in heaven! Then I found the intoxicating world of blogging (http://www.blogspot.com/) . I could WRITE. About anything, anyone, any and every little or big demented or funny thought that popped into this must have been dropped as a baby psyche! And IF I WROTE IT, I was sure....THEY WOULD COME. Okay, maybe droves would be a little overly optimistic, but I do have the occasional stop by in passing internet surfer (and did I mention how wonderful you look today?)
Then I met Face Book. That, my constant follower, was a turning point in my technological love affiar with my computer. I could chat, post, download pictures, stories, links, all the while connecting with people I haven't seen in more than 30 years. And why do I want to do this? Because I can. I have to. The world will stop if they don't know that mysuestories is nombbla (None Of My Business But Listening Anyway)-to conversations that are not about me, for me, or even related to people I might have known or bumped in to maybe once 10 years ago. They NEED to know what I am doing---even if it IS quite obvious, I'm Facebooking. Isn't that an amazing word---It can be a noun, a verb, a lover....well, that's a whole other story....
Well, it's been months now. I have missed milestones (I'd tell you which ones, but I MISSED them, remember!), and I couldn't tell you how the last four new episodes of Law & Order have ended. My nose has been so stuck in my computer, that my hair has started to root in the hard drive! Life was good. Unless you were one of my kids who needed a ride some where, or maybe a hot meal, or HELP with your homework...What do I look like here, 24 hour valet, yeesh. And, I'll log off in just a moment---Oh but how many times have I heard one my kids say "right after I finish this level!!")
Yep. I was riding that virtual pony like a rodeo ringer. And I got to tell ya...It felt great!!!!Like water in the desert, ice on a hot summer's day. Nothing better.
Like all good things, the bottom started to fall out. First the internet was severely curtailed at work (like a knife to my heart, I tell ya!). But still I managed. The desk top at home was old and slow and outdated for me and my high living addiction. I started using my son's laptop...(one more minute, sweetie, and I might even feed you this week!). Then, horror, his charger wasn't working. To the electronics store in the MIDDLE OF THE NITE! I never even went out for milk past seven pm. ( Water is just as good in any recipe). One hundred and twenty dollars later, it's not the charger, but the receptacle the charger plugs in to. We find a wonderful friend to repair it, but we're waiting on a part.
Days go by, and I haven't even seen the internet explorer logo. I start to shake. By the end of the week, I've got my poor dear husband lugging the desktop up from it's purgatory in my basement. He runs the cable, finds the keyboard, hooks up the mouse. It turns on by the grace of god---slow, agonizingly slow, it boots up....almost,almost......okay -enter user id and password.....Wouldn't you know it, The only letter that won't work NO MATTER WHAT I DID was the letter "s" as in MY_UE_TORIE_---everything I am is in that godforsaken letter!!!!!! And It Just Won't Work.
I curse (quietly, to myself----must hide addiction...), I pout (Noone notices). I am almost in tears when my husband looks at me as I blankly stare at the tv screen . It wasn't even on.
"What's wrong?" asks, HE.
I start to unravel my story. I'm thinking, he's going to be relieved. A Facebook widow is as bad as a football widow. Maybe worse. Afterall, we can tune in 24/7! His wife, mother of hungry children is finally back in the fold. No more competing with facebook and a glass of wine. He sympathizes, and we go to bed. I am prepared to break the addiction however hard that may be.
The next day I return home from my internet-less job, (okay, I concede---Production is up-- ready to face another long lonely heartbroken night. My husband awaiting me at the door. On the kitchen table, with a big bow on it, sits a box. For me. So I'll feel better. A consolation prize. Maybe new shoes? A book? I rip it open...
IT'S A BRAND NEW LAPTOP!!!!!!!!!!!!
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Hate to leave in the middle of a testimonial, but the virtual world is waiting. I'M back in the saddle again!!!!!!!! HELLO, INTERNET!!!!!
Besides, I could quit any time I want to. I just don't want to.
Thank you honey! I adore the very ground you walk on.... Oh, and could you please fix the kids some dinner if its not too much trouble......I'll be there after this one last blog post.....
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