PHONE LINE AND DSL ARE BOTH WORKING NOW
But I'm still steamed. Come to think of it, the DSL is STILL acting a little bit squirrely. It was blinking off and on earlier. Watch it go out just as I hit the send button for this entry.
This would bring on an ugly display of rage, so I hope it doesn't happen.
I have decided to get rid of Bellsouth and try out the Roadrunner service. I have been reluctant to try it, but now I'm so disgusted with Bellsouth, I want them to lose my valuable business. I have been a damn good customer. I ran up an INSANE phone bill one time and paid every single ill-afforded penny. I've been a DSL customer for a long time.
But Bellsouth can't or won't just fix my lines once and for all. They keep doing a half-assed job, by patching the old tore back equipment instead of just replacing their lousy lines and making a customer happy for a change. And every time I have to report an outage, they tell me vehemently that it could not possibly be their lines causing the problem. It definitely HAS TO BE my bad equipment. I have to slog through that ploy of theirs every time, and then it is ALWAYS proven to be their lines again (surprise!) and they then fess up that they can see a short afterall or they found a line problem.
So next Saturday, the cable guys are going to come out and add me some Roadrunner, plus they are going to install cable outlets in all the bedrooms and maybe even the kitchen...
I can get up to 4 new outlets for the same price, so I'm thinking maybe I'll go all out. I'm getting all my premium channels in my room so I can watch the inappropriate-for-family-viewing shows, like Oz, in my room.
Oz gives me nightmares. Had to share.
I'm going to have the biggest, nastiest, most conspicuously overdone cable bill they ever did print, and several trees will have to die just to make one invoice.
And in a completely unrelated side note, I think I might barf tonight. I don't think my very wisely limited dinner has digested at all. And my stomach hurts. Ah, so very nice. I hate to even write that, lest everyone start to think I'm sickly and weak. I've been sick, non-stop, since the 2 year old hit the daycare scene. Is it a coinkydink, or are children poisonous?
Hopefully it is just something I ate, disagreeing with me, and not food poisoning from the rancid looking hamburger I had for lunch today.
Another topic on my mind for this entry is what happened on New Years Eve.
No really... WHAT happened on New Year's Eve? If you read Myra's entry, you know I may have demurely tipped a few at the ole New Year's Eve block party.
OK - I slammed some shots. Some straight tequila and some Hot Damn, to be exact. It wasn't as bad as I expected. I didn't get so drunk as to get sick or wake up with that crazy greaseball that kept talking so loud.
Thank the Good Lord in Heaven Above that neither Myra nor myself allowed our Ringo Star looking redneck neighbor "Rub us down", because he heard we like to go to the spa and get massages.
If I keep thinking about this, I might be able to barf and get it over with.
Anyways, I didn't get tooooo drunk. But Myra DID! She was Tippy Turtle. She got down with Jose, she broke loose with Jack, She hit the Hot Damn. She woke up with the crazy greaseball that kept talking so loud.
About one of those things.
We knew we were getting too drunk when I flashed her a toothy grin with chocolate on my teeth (on purpose) and it was so funny to both of us that we couldn't even laugh. We had to just sort of clutch each other and wheeze for several minutes. I almost peed.
The next day, things weren't quite so funny in Teetsville. Myra was laid out like roadkill, and I woke up looking, shall we say, somewhat less lovely than my usual princess-like, ray of sunshiney look that I usually have each and every day.
My hair was dead wrong, and I was puffy. I felt pretty much like hammered shit, but not quite hungover. Thank goodness I stopped drinking soon enough to avoid the hangover. I don't suffer the hangover gladly.
I stuck my head into Myra's room and just sort of quietly yelled "WWWHHHHYYYYYY??"
We should not have drankdid all that ackahol. We was wrong fo dat.
One more unrelated-up-outta-nowhere comment:
Hey boys, guess what happens when you break in a new bra? It rubs you in places you are not used to being rubbed in, and makes little sore spots hither and yon.
THE THINGS WE FEMALES DO!!