The Internet might be trying to break up with me.

Lately the Internet has been so passive aggressive.

Usually I say to the Interwebs, LYLAS.  Or actually LYLAB since the Internet is masculine (naturally because he sucks at honestly expressing his feelings).  But, lately it seems like he's mad at me.  (But, of course, he won't come right out and tell me what I did to piss him off.)

Instead he's all, "Prove you're not a robot."  (In a hateful voice.  In places where it's clear he's mocking me - like my own blog.)  Then when I'm all, "Dude, how long have we known each other?  You know I'm not a robot."  He's still all, "PROVE IT."

Also, lately he's constantly taunting me with, "Leave this page or stay on this page?  You are not finished commenting yet."  Even when I say, "Yes.  Yes, I am done commenting.  Let me leave."  He insists that I'm not.  He's become that friend who tries to know me better than I know myself.  That friend that gives me unsolicited advice.  Whattup?

He's kinda been that friend that ignores my texts, too.  I'm all clicking "log on" and he's clearly all, "Not now," and "I don't think so," and "You really don't want to do this."

It's pissing me off.  I want us to be like we used to be.

Dear hackers: You're gonna need to build a taller wall.

Someone once said (it may have been Jack Handey), "Your valleys will be as low as your mountains are high."  And I immediately wanted to vomit in my mouth.  Until a few days ago.

When I found out (damn it) - it's true.

Sunday night I started to do paperwork for my job and found that I couldn't open a few of my files.  When I was finally able to open a few files - they were in Japanese (or something that looked like my six year old wrote it) (and, ironically, some six year old hacker in Russia probably did write it). 

I did what I often do when faced with an alarming problem that might eventually destroy my entire family, I casually mentioned it to hubby and tried my best to ignore it.

Monday morning my laptop became possessed.  And by 'possessed' I mean it acted as if someone else (let's call him The Devil) was controlling it.  I would press 'enter' and my trusty laptop would scroll to the top of the page.  I would press the scroll button and I'd end up on another site.  And all kinds of unsavory pop-ups asking me to buy enhancers were popping up. 

But, I had my oil to change, prints to complete, 27 loads of laundry to do, and basically everything that should have been done the previous three days because, um - Halloween.  So, again I reverted back to hubby.  He was incredibly patient with me while asking me a series of questions:

Is your computer plugged in?
Is your Maleware turned on?
Have you backed up your files recently?
Do you have spyware?
Have you recently scanned and deleted unnecessary files?
When was the last time you did a complete scan?
Did you send money to long-lost relatives in Africa who were in trouble???

I answered his questions to the best of my ability and then he sullenly pronounced me with an irreparable virus.

My response was something like this:

And then:

How could this have happened?  I was using protection?  Sometimes double protection.  (And - just FYI - my pleasure was not diminished by double protection.)  Are you sure?  Is it possible the files are just temporarily corrupted?  Shouldn't there be a record of them somewhere?  Y'know like how the Interweb knows what color underwear I'm wearing?  Shouldn't they also know what all my files look like?  AGAIN, HOW COULD THIS HAVE HAPPENED???  I never opened any emails from people telling me about my inheritance!!!  I SWEAR.

Calmly and patiently hubby told me how to go about "fixing" what had happened to the best of his knowledge.

This took quite a bit of time.

It was ugly.

Monday I got the ransom note from the hackers when I was attempting to delete infected files. 

The ransom note basically said:  We have  your files.  If you ever want to see them again in their unaltered form you will need to pay us one million Bitcoins (which in case you don't know is a form of currency similar to Monopoly money that people who fancy themselves to be those blue and pink little plastic people use to basically terrorize normal people) (one million Bitcoins is roughly equivalent to 500 U.S. dollars - although its value changes daily in accordance to astrological signs).

It was creepy and scary and naturally I wanted to call the police.

Instead I asked hubby:  Isn't this illegal???  Can't we sue these people and put them in jail???

Hubby patiently said:  Yes, this is illegal, but let's not involve the police.  Let's use the Google and find out what we can do. 

The next 48 hours were spent learning everything we could have ever wanted to know about a little virus called CryptoWall 2.0.  It's a nasty thing.  It's main symptoms are:  runny nose, fever, body aches.  No, wait.  That's Ebola (also a nasty little thing).  Crypto King's main symptoms are:  encrypted files, explicit pop-up messages (which albeit interesting - do get annoying), random possession of the keyboard, and basically the Devil on your shoulder.


Sidenote:  If you are (not even remotely) a techie, using the Google to research a computer virus is a little like going to a party where everyone is dressed up in Star Wars costumes (except you) and speaking a language where you understand every fifth word.   At this party you are not sure what you are supposed to be doing, so you just kind of stumble forward while everyone else is dancing wildly with abandon, having a great time, and drinking this purple juice.  You come home from the party with a bad headache feeling like you drank way too much even though you are thirsty.  You go to sleep and have nightmares about going to a party where everyone is dressed up in Star Wars costumes except you..........................................

I will lead you to the decryptor.

End of the story?  Roughly 48 hours later?

I lost everything important to my actual work while all my files like this one:  What's For Dinner?  (which included 31 Very Important dinner ideas) remained uncorrupted (of course).

I had not backed up my files in about a year. 

I know you are sitting there smugly reading this (if anyone is actually reading this) thinking, "Ms. Dayinthelife - WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?  You don't back up your files?  What century do you live in?  You should have a calendar and a strict schedule for precisely these types of activities!"

What can I say?  Backing up my files is like cleaning the fridge for me.  The last time I cleaned the fridge someone had dropped a jar of pickles inside of it.  

I have no defense.  I hide my head in shame.  But, I did learn some important life lessons.

Lessons learned

1.  When in trouble it's not always necessary to call the police.  Instead consult the Google.
2.  Hackers are the parasites of humanity.
3.  Parasites are very, very smart.
4.  Back up your files and then back them up again in case your back up gets a virus.  In fact, there can never be too many back ups.
5.  Do this regularly.
6.  Ditto for protection.  You can never have too much protection.  Sometimes you need so much protection that you will never be able to just have good 'ole irresponsible fun.
7.  When all is said and done, this is a First World Problem.  There are people starving in the world who don't even have laptops.  And in that respect I am thankful to just have been hacked and not starved.
8.  I will and have survived fairly intact.  My computer has been set back to Factory Settings (Google it - it's basically like when you shot out of your mom's womb).  I am resilient.
9.  I believe what hubby says.  He and I - we are Mexicans not Mexican'ts.
10.  And last but not least, I believe the other thing hubby has told me:  It takes a lot to stop a Mexican.  Hackers will need to build a taller wall to stop us. 

Sorry, y'all. I'm busy procrastinating....I mean drinking....I mean procrastinating.

So, it's been a family filled summer so far.  Here's what I've learned.

1.  Someone made a wine for me.  (Not to be confused with a whine for me.  Someone made that for me a long, long time ago.)

Notice the little person relaxing at her desk?  She's clearly a woman.  To which I say, "Huh?"  In my extensive research and experience, men procrastinate far more than women.  Amirite?

2.  I've lost weight.  Maybe.  My swimsuit bottoms almost fell off in the pool today.  This could be because:  I have lost weight.  My swimsuit bottom elastic has completely lost its elasticity.  Or, I am a really bad swimmer.  I am going with - I lost weight.  So, yay!  And, boo.  Because now I have to shop again.

3.  Because during the first week of summer our kids were turning into computer screens, communicating with acronyms, and pausing their games only to toilet themselves and eat, hubby and I decided we had to somehow limit their technology use.

We have now limited it to the point where our kids hate us so much they might move out before school starts again in August. 

We arrived at this status via a surprising move last Sunday evening, when we voted in my family.  The two options up for vote were:  1.  Kids will use technology only on Saturday and Sunday for unlimited use.  There will be no technology use Monday - Friday.  Or, 2. kids use technology for one hour a day at the same hour Sunday - Saturday.  The kids voted for Option 2, and for one full week we have battled and argued each and every day about how many minutes are in a freaking hour.

Seriously?  Tuesday I thought Girl 2 was having the DTs because we had to stop her game and leave the house during her "one hour."

4.  I am addicted to Daft Punk.  My kids are happy, but a little concerned about me.  Have a listen and you'll soon be addicted, too.  You're welcome.

5.  I have been unable to run with puppy because he threw my hip out pulling me and I am recovering with large doses of Aleve, chocolate, and beer.  So, I am getting no exercise and gaining weight.  And he is getting no exercise and acting like a maniac.  This has created a vicious cycle similar to drug dependency.  He is hyper because no one is exercising him and no one wants to exercise him because he's too damn hyper.  Cheesus.

Hubby had a moment of pure genius earlier and declared, "We should have named puppy "Technology" because then everyone would want to play with him."

That, folks, has been my summer thus far.  How have you been?

Bad things happen in 3's...or 13's...or 33's. But who's counting?

So, you might have known that back in January while hubby was out of town with work, our microwave (that we'd had for about 11 years) broke. 

That was the beginning of the end.

For about one day after it broke, I felt just like a pilgrim while I actually cooked everything.  On the stove.  (Pilgrims had stoves, right?) 

Then after much furious texting between hubby and I (while he was in some "important" meetings) about how much microwaves cost "nowadays," I texted hubby from Lowe's:  Babe, the cheapest microwave is $120.00 and it looks like it would hold one bag of single serve popcorn.  I *think* it belongs in a hotel.  A hotel where only one person will be staying.

About 15 minutes and $260 later, I walked out with a sleek, stainless steel, working microwave that can *almost* hold a 9 x 13 pan.  Damn my faulty measuring.

That's when it all went down the crapper.

The complete list of everything in our house that has broken since the 11 year old microwave died in January:

1.  The air conditioner.
2.  The water heater.
3.  My trusty, dependable 20 year old hair dryer.
4.  The puppy.
5.  The garbage disposal.  Seriously?  Whose garbage disposal up and breaks???  I swear I didn't even put a fork in it.
6.  The cheese drawer on the ancient (white) fridge.  Firstly, who still has a white fridge?  Secondly, I know this isn't a real "break," but damn it if it isn't annoying to not be able to close that drawer properly.
7.  The Keurig.  (Thankfully hubby was able to fix that before I had to even miss one cup of coffee.  Thank you, hubby for not making me kill anyone.)

And, today I came back from my run to this:

Hubby:  The TV broke while you were gone.

$%&*#%  $%&*%$ is what I said.

Seriously?  I feel like I want to bury a saint in my front yard or go to a curandero, or have my house blessed.  Again.  Cheesus, Mary, and Joseph.  Someone cut me a break.

Photo courtesy:  forums: redflagdeals.com  I bet you didn't even know people still had TVs like this.  We do and now ours is broken.  If you hear screaming it's us being dragged into this century by force.

Just Ducky.

Blech!  I knew I said I was going to stay away from you guys for a couple days to work on my mounting list of crap important stuff that needs to get done...but, let's be realistic.  I am addicted to you guys (and possibly procrastination). 

I got a new cell phone.  In case you are new here, I am technologically impaired and living somewhere in the 80's when it comes to technology.  I did not own a cell phone until a few years ago when basically the world wore me down.  I do not trust cell phones mainly because:  I hate to talk on the phone, I am going deaf, and I think cell phones might be the downfall of communication as we have known it.  Regardless, the other day hubby dragged me down to the cell phone store and asked me which new phone I wanted.  This was kind of similar to being asked by your optometrist, "Which looks better A or B?" and you really have no idea, but you say, "B" with complete confidence because you just want the examination to be over and get into your new glasses.

So, I told the cell phone man (who can't even really be called a man because I am pretty sure he was about 11) that I wanted that phone that you could talk into and say things like, "Make me dinner," or "Can you find me a job where I can make money for pinning things on Pinterest?" or "Can you get me a book deal when I haven't actually written a book?"  And your phone answers back to you nicely (unlike your children) saying things like, "Yes."  "On it."  "I will most certainly do that for you, and would you like your coffee now?"  "Did I tell you yet that you look gorgeous in that outfit?"  "Have you been working out?  Because you look more toned." 

He looked at me like I was clearly nuts and said, "Oh, I think you are talking about the iPhone 202.  We don't carry that."  So, then I said, "Oh, well what about that phone where you can write notes to yourself like, 'Don't forget to put the clothes in the dryer when you get home so that you don't have to spend a whole 'nother day doing laundry.'  So that I don't have to scramble looking for a sharpened pencil and paper while I am driving on the highway at 75 miles per hour hauling four kids in the back.  Do you guys have that phone?" 

Again, I got the look (like I'm crazy).  And then the patient, "Oh, ma'am, you must be talking about the blah, blah, blah.  We don't carry that one, either.  But I guarantee you since blah, blah, blah (and then what sounded to me like Charlie Brown's mother) we will carry that blah, blah, blah." 

Incidentally much later we saw a woman with that exact note-writing phone.  Let me just say THANK GAWD they didn't have that one because it is HUGE.  I would have had to buy a different purse to go along with it (not necessarily a bad thing).  The commercial really is deceiving.  It should say "Shown size is not actual size.  Phone is GIGANTIC in real life."  It's like hauling around a little laptop and I cannot imagine holding that thing up to your ear.  It looks ridiculous (no offense if you actually own that phone).

So, then I said, "Okay, well what do you have?"  And, bam, I got a brand new phone that's supposed to make me smarter, faster, and more efficient.  (But, won't necessarily get me a book deal, or kids who listen and behave, or make me a million dollars, or a cup of coffee.  Useless.  I know.)

Fast forward to yesterday when I was registering my kids for college (yes, I know they are only 3, 7, 9, and 10 but I am, indeed, registering them for college).  In order to attend a summer camp which is being hosted at a college, I have to register my kids for college.  It sounds a little kooky (and kind of like my kids are geniuses, which I must say - I am okay with), but it's the truth.  And, let me tell you, in case you are my age and registered for college a Long Time Ago, registering for college these days TAKES A MILLION YEARS and now requires basically giving blood and having an AIDS test (I am kidding, but only slightly).

So, here I am on the computer registering my 10 year old for COLLEGE, which was taking FORever and giving me a migraine.  It was kind of going like this (if the computer could talk):

Enter your login number:
What login number???
Searching back through the paperwork and trying one of the 5000 numbers I have scribbled down.
You have entered an incorrect login number.  Click here if you cannot remember your login number.
Well FU&%.  Click.
A new login number will be emailed to the email you enter in five to ten minutes.
Perfect.  Going to pee and then checking my email which says:  Click here and you will receive your new login number.  Clicking. 
Here is your new login in number.  You must exit the system and begin the process again.
Me:  Going to get a dull kitchen knife with which to STAB MYSELF in the eyes.

Now, you are probably wondering what the HELL any of this has to do with my new smarter and faster phone, right?  Or, you just stopped reading a long time ago figuring I was even more ca-razy than before.  Well here's how - while I was doing all this, my sweet friend was texting me (on my new phone) asking me about summer camps!  So, I texted some profanity back to her and told her I was REGISTERING MY KIDS FOR COLLEGE.

It was THEN that I realized my brand new f%;*ing phone was in fact either DUMB or my conscience (neither or which is sitting well with me). 

Every single time I typed a cuss word my "smart (ass)" phone converted it to some other word.  So that our texting went something like this:

Friend:  Hey, what summer camps are you registering the kids for?

Me:  Well, right now I am registering the kids for ducking college.

Friend:  Ha!  Ducking college?

Me:  Ducking?  What the duck?  Why can't I cuss?

Friend:  It's your phone.  You have to enter all the cuss words into the dictionary.

Me:  You.  Are.  Ducking kidding.

Friend:  No, no.  That's what you have to do.

Me:  This STUCKS.  ETF???  Perfect.  I thought this phone was supposed to be smarter than my old phone.  It should know intuitively that I want to cuss.  God blame it.  God blame it?  Seriously?  This is smarter???

Friend:  It is smarter.  It's keeping your language clean.


Seriously?  So, this phone is smarter? 

I want a refund.

My kids may not take me seriously.

Santa in his infinite wisdom brought the kids a Wii for Christmas and frankly that thing drives me nuts.  First of all, I am a control freak.  Yes, I said it.  I'm not a control freak in all areas of my life (well, I make myself feel good by saying that), but when it comes to what my kids are doing - I am a little psycho.  I can't stand them mindlessly playing video games (of any kind) while there is:  laundry to be done, a kitchen to be cleaned, food to be cooked, a floor to be cleaned, or a carpet to be vacuumed.  It makes me a little irritated.  So, tonight I reached my wits end and decided to make another chore chart (we've had approximately 100 chore charts in our lives because I am inconsistent and a slacker mom).  This one was to be entitled Technology Usage Chore Chart (not as daunting as it sounds - apparently).

My charts are not power point material.  They are more on par with a kindergartner's presentation.  For example, I made the chart with recycled paper and a thick black Sharpie (because I couldn't find a decent pen).  The columns read (as far as I can remember):  Make beds, fold blankets, put all lovies on beds, put clean clothes neatly away, practice piano, do homework.  So, when I finished showing the kids my masterpiece and explaining all the intricacies of what must be accomplished in order for them to use technology (Wii and iTouches) here is what happened:

Boy Child:  Um, mom, is there going to be a Q and A?

Me:  Huh?

Boy (snickering):  Mom, do you know what Q and A means?  Without giving anyone a chance to answer.  It means Question and Answer!

Wild laughing amongst all the children.

Me:  Okay.  Right.  Do you guys have any questions?

Girl 1:  Are we allowed to fold the blankets into origami cats?

Me (Quickly realizing I *might* be losing control.):  Um.  No.

Girl 2:  Are we allowed to fold the blankets into triangles like they do flags?  Because dad showed us how to do that one time.  It's really hard, but he took the time to show us.

Me (Thank you, hubby, you are immensely helpful.):  Um.  No.

Girls 1 and 2:  But, baby doesn't practice piano............or do homework.

Me:  Fine.  I'll cross those out.

Baby:  YES I DO PRACTICE PIANO!!!  AND I DO HOMEWORK.

Me:  OKAY.  Does everyone understand???  We start tomorrow.  Are we all good with this???

Boy:  Are we to the Q and A yet?

Me:  YES for the love of God.

Boy:  Okay.  My question is - are you taking questions?

Again, collective snickering.

I may need to make another chart entitled Taking Mom Seriously.

Technology: A Cautionary Tale

So, it's Father's Day 2011 and it's been, oh about...a-long-time since I've blogged and there are about 2000 other things I could write about.  BUT, I thought since I haven't written in a while, I would bring you a cautionary technology tale.  A kind of Public Service Announcement.  Consider it a Father's Day gift.  Or if you are not a father - just consider it my gift to you (I know, I know.  I am always thinking of others).

Here's the set-up in my house.  Basically it's Dueling Computers.  No, we are not techies.  No, we do not grow money on trees and thereby buy all the technology we want.  We have one fairly old laptop that is "mine," one brand spankin' new Toshiba laptop that is "sometimes mine," one dEEOInosaur from the ice age when computers actually looked like TV's (Remember large, fat TVs?  No?  Well, then you are too young to be reading my blog.) - that one is the "kids," and one of hubby's "work laptops" that only runs Very Important Work Programs That Are Useless to the Average American.  Any given day or night you can find the kids playing games on the dinosaur and whining incessantly about no sound, it moves too slow to shoot anything, why can't they have a real computer, blah, blah, blah, me "working" on my old laptop, and hubby fooling around with his work laptop (presumably doing actual work), and also doing Very Important Stuff on the Toshiba.

I think a timeline would be helpful and since I have lost all track of time, I am just going to make-up a timeline.  One night, let's call it Tuesday night, when hubby and I were feeling particularly technologically savvy, we decided to load all of our External Hard drive Very Important Information onto the Toshiba.  We did it!  It was a team effort, but we were successful (as evidenced by then having to open every file on the Toshiba and comment about how it all looked correct and normal).  Mission Accomplished.  We felt like pros.

Wednesday night hubby was doing work on his work laptop and fooling around on the Toshiba when a sound came out of his mouth that I can only describe as horror and amazement?  If it had been a word the word would have been EEGADS.  I mumbled, "Huh?" from my laptop.  He quickly told me that ALL our files we had loaded just the night before onto the Toshiba were gone, lost, vanished.  I did nothing.  I did not comment or react because I was absolutely sure that he was nuts and/or was not looking in the correct place on the computer.  So this type of conversation ensued for about 10 minutes:

Him:  BABE!!!  Everything is GONE!  How can this be???
Me:  Hmm. 
Him:  Jeez!!!  Aren't you freaking out???  Don't you care???
Me:  That's weird.  For sure.
Him:  Holy CRAP (not his EXACT words)!!!  I freaking HATE COMPUTERS!  What is the deal???  How can this be???
Me:  So are you sure they are gone?
Him:  Sheesh.  ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME???  What the heck is wrong here???  Didn't we just load this crap yesterday???
Me:  Hmm.

Now, after this continued for 10 minutes I decided to get up and walk the two feet across the table to examine the computer with him.  THEN the conversation went a little like THIS:

Me:  %$HS#!!!  What the heck???  Where the heck are all the files???
Him:  I don't freaking know!!!  What the heck is going on here???
Me:  It's like we are in some sort of altered universe.
Him:  What should I do???
Me:  I don't know.  Shut the whole thing down and REBOOT.  This is freaking crazy.  What the heck could have happened???
Him:  Okay.  Let's THINK, babe.  Let's shut down.  Maybe something mysterious and weird has happened that we wouldn't understand.  Shutting down.
Me:  Do it.

Silence. 

More silence.

Him:  (Very quietly.)  Oh, um babe.  It's the wrong computer.  This is my WORK computer.  The files are on the Toshiba.  We loaded the files on the Toshiba.  We've been looking on my work laptop.
Me:  You are kidding, right?
Him:  (Very quietly again.)  No, not kidding.

Doh!

After we got over the shock of our Very Important Files not disappearing into thin air, we had a good belly laugh.  As I am sure you are laughing at us now.  As you know, I have no pride.  So, I am not ashamed to tell you that THE VERY SAME THING happened about one week later.  Of course, we realized quicker (after only about 6 minutes) that hubby was looking at the wrong computer. 

Moral of the Story:  If you are not a techie and you are experiencing technological difficulties run through your list of helpful troubleshooting questions.  Is the computer plugged in?  Is the computer on?  And ADD to the list, IS THE COMPUTER YOURS?

Happy Father's Day!