Bad, Bad Blogger

Yeah, so I stink. I keep meaning to blog, but I am too lazy to download pictures to go along with the first blog I want to do... so I end up doing nothing. But I couldn't let this go unremarked upon.

So we are having a huge snowstorm today. Apparently. So far we are having a small snowstorm. The snow is fine and light, very un-easterly. We typically have heavy, wet, snowball-packing snow. I'd say there's about 2-3 inches on the ground. I can see across the complex... everything I can normally see. I'm sure it will get worse. Much worse, from what I just read in this Weather.com article.

This article forecasts 10-15 inches, which will "bury many of the major cities in the Mid-Atlantic to Northeast." Come on now--bury? I have been to many major cities in the Northeast... Boston, DC, Baltimore, New York, Philadelphia, Richmond, Newark... I hate to be oppositional, but 10-15 inches will not bury these cities. They are really big. They have tall buildings. Taller than 15 inches.

More from the article: Travel will be treacherous. Not recommended to use 81, 77, and 95 through tonight. (Whew, guess we're safe using the Baltimore and DC beltways.) This is a dubious Christmas present. Historic and dangerous December snows. Dangerous Blizzard.

I am sure that heavy snow and wind will cripple us, but it's mainly because Virginians and Marylanders cannot drive in snow. They have an excuse: they don't get much snow (unlike Utahns, aka Utards thanks Kate, who get lots of snow yet are horrible at driving in it) New Yorkers, Pennsylvanians, Jerseyans, and Bay Staters will scoff at a foot of snow. That's not even up to my knees!!!! When I lived in New York, I once drove in snow that was up to the handles of the car. Of course, the snow will still result in mayhem in New Jersey, despite the scoffing, because Jerseyans are an interesting combination of inept yet fearless (except Jelly.. I'm sure you're a good driver).

I don't doubt that bad things will happen this weekend. But come on, this isn't The Perfect Storm. Enough with the overdramatizing. Is a weatherman's job so boring that they have to exaggerate like that? Oh.... now I get it.

Please

Parents, please sign with your deaf children.

Deaf children with strong signing skills have stronger English literacy skills (yes, compared with deaf children who speak).

Deaf children who sign have a more positive self-concept. That's psychobabble for feeling good about themselves.

Deaf children who sign are no worse at spoken language than their deaf peers who do not sign--in fact, they have better spoken language skills. FYI, language is where it's at in education. If children can't say their /r/ correctly, their education will probably not be affected. In my school district, we frequently do not pick up hearing children with /r/ problems, due to lack of educational impact. Language and the concepts learned through language will have a direct impact on every child's education. Why is it that parents are willing to buy the story that children can be bilingual in any combination of languages except ASL and English? Oh, right, because if they learn ASL, they won't be motivated to learn English. Foolishness. Engage your common sense and do not believe everything you hear just because a person with abbreviations following their name said it.

Deaf children who sign have better relationships with their parents and experience fewer communication breakdowns with their families.

Deaf children who sign can develop their brains from birth (or at least from identification of their deafness), instead of waiting until they are old enough to receive a cochlear implant. No, it will not make their brain develop in a way that will prevent them from learning spoken language. This is hogwash. This idea is propagated by those who stand to benefit monetarily from parents buying into it. There is zero research to back it. There is, however, research to back the idea that with the brain, if you don't use it, you lose it. A child deprived of language input (and don't tell me that hearing aids and lipreading provide adequate language input for an infant, because I will laugh in your face) will slowly lose their intellectual capacity. The brain is the most plastic and most rapidly developing during the first year of life. Unused neural connections are dying every day during the first year of life. The very year wasted waiting for a cochlear implant.

Deaf children who sign are able to acquire language in an age-appropriate manner. Deaf children do not have full access to spoken language, even with cochlear implants. That's why they need therapy to learn language, rather than acquiring language naturally. They do have full access to sign language.

Deaf children who sign are able to listen and understand spoken language using a cochlear implant or hearing aid.

Deaf children who sign are able to behave appropriately just as hearing children do. Just a quick story: a family I knew was told by a teacher of the deaf (who herself was deaf and raised orally) that they needed to stop signing with their four-year-old child, so that he would learn to hear and speak using his cochlear implant. The mother trusted this teacher and followed her advice. Within a few weeks, the child's behavior had seriously deteriorated, and his mother was at wits end with him. The oral program referred her to a behavior specialist. They worked on behavior modification. The situation dragged on for months as they visited with the behavior specialist often and even tried a pediatric psychiatrist. His mother finally followed her instincts and allowed him to communicate freely again. He was back to normal by the end of the week, and they were able to get rid of the rewards charts, tracking sheets, and time out chair.

Deaf children who sign are able to acquire age-appropriate social skills. Many professionals take it as a given that deaf children will need social skills training. It doesn't have to be that way.

Deaf children who sign are able to do everything hearing children can do. Think, learn, speak, listen, and achieve. Sign with your deaf children. They will thank you later.

I will step down from my soapbox now.

Too Strange to Be True

Seriously? Did this really happen? Singing to a coffin? To a COFFIN???

OK, let me just say that I thought Michael Jackson was a great dancer. Phenomenal. Groundbreaking. Of course, I don't dance, so what the heck do I know? I also think he was a very good singer when he was young. As an adult, he was an OK singer. His music was catchy in the 80s and 90s, but you can't argue that his voice was amazing at that time. So recap: good singer, great dancer.

With that out of the way....

What are people thinking?? A choreographed show, with the coffin on stage? Is this for real? I did not watch the whole thing, but having seen clips (Live at the Compound did an entertaining "recap" of the highlights), I was confused and a wee bit horrified. Let me make sure I understand.

-The coffin was on stage (empty, I assume).

-People sang and danced to and around the coffin.

-At one point the stage was filled with children. To celebrate an alleged kid toucher.

Um. THIS IS CREEPY!!

I know this is an unpopular position to take, but I can offer no apology. I have a fundamental problem with a herd mentality. I'd rather think for myself.

During his energetic eulogy, Al Sharpton claimed that Michael Jackson:

-taught the world how to love

-broke down the color curtain

-brought the races together

-made "colored" people comfortable with voting

-made us love each other

-taught us to stand with each other

I had no idea.

Sharpton also stated that "there wasn't nothing strange about [MJ]." Now, Al, you're pulling my leg.

Look, I'm not saying Michael Jackson was a bad person. (Al Sharpton, on the other hand, is an opportunistic, racist media whore.) I'm not even saying Michael Jackson would dislike the televised extravaganza. He'd probably get a kick out of it; after all, he apparently liked to start rumors about himself when his name was out of the press. Look, he had a crappy upbringing and became a messed up adult. He crowned himself "King of Pop," which was brilliant branding. He danced and sang (years ago). But really, this is all too much. I don't have a problem with Michael Jackson himself. I have a problem with the way his life, actions, and impact are being blown so out of proportion as to be unrecognizable.

A month ago, he was a washed up, has-been freak--a creepy relic, the butt of jokes. Yes, he sold out an arena for 50 shows in London. Genuine fans + curious rubberneckers = ticket sales. But you cannot tell me that Michael Jackson is not way more beloved now than he was a month ago. Why? I don't get it.

And a word about the media. Talk about opportunistic... Were I a betting woman, I would lay money on the fact that the people currently praising him so effusively would have been more likely to pick Michael apart than to adulate him during said London installation.

No wonder the world accuses us of being a celebrity-obsessed, media-driven country. It's because WE ARE.

Enough Already

Laynie has a few students in her ASL 3 class at McDaniel who are out to get her. They are spoiled, entitled brats who think they should get everything they want in life, regardless of their performance. They have complained to the department chair so much that he is now down on her, saying that she has made a "mess" of this class. They have complained about things like teaching too many signs for foreign countries and requiring attendance at three deaf events (a department requirement). These students have not brought any problems to Laynie, or to her boss, who is also deaf. They went straight to the [hearing] department head. After subbing in this class before, I would guess that's because their signing STINKS. I had to repeat myself many times and ended up mainly relying on gestures and facial expressions to communicate with them.

This is bull.

That's what's on my mind today.

NOT Comcastic

I hate Comcast. Maybe every cable company plays games with the bill, maybe Comcast is worse. It bothered me. However, I had agreed to a two-year contract last May, when we moved to Maryland, so I was stuck with them. They told me that I would have cable, internet, and landline phone for a certain price, which of course ended up being a lot more when you add in taxes and fees. I had many battles with them: won some, lost some. Every month, I got agita before I opened the bill, knowing that there was a good chance I'd be speaking to an idiot shortly.

A few months ago, Laynie and I talked about getting rid of phone and cable. I never use the landline phone, and we only watch four shows on TV, which are all online, even with captions, so there's no reason to have cable. We can't get rid of the internet, because Laynie's videophone requires high speed internet. Besides, how could you live without the internet? Our work and school stuff is all online, and it's usually the best way to buy stuff. But I decided not to downgrade the services, because then I'd have to pay a fee.

We moved last month, and I had Comcast come out and move services to the new place (for a fee, naturally). Then I got the bill. The monthly fee is $20 higher than it was! Funny, there was no mention of a fee change when I called to have the services moved (rolling my eyes). Of course, I called them right up. I let them know that there was a mistake on the bill, and they let me know that there was no mistake. Hm. Think fast.

"If you're breaking the contract, that's excellent, because I wanted to downgrade anyway."

"We're not breaking the contract. Your contract said that if you move, you start a new contract."

"Then why did the guy who signed me up specify that the price would be constant for two years? It was his main selling point, that the price wouldn't go up as long as I lived in a place that Comcast serviced."

"I don't know what he said. The contract you signed says that if you move, you start a new contract at whatever the current price is."

"I will pay [old amount] for the bundle. That's what I agreed to, and that's what your representative told me it would be. I will not pay more."

"Well [new amount] is what it is. I mean, I don't know what they told you. I guess I could try to get a supervisor to look up your conversation and see who signed you up, and then they could talk to his supervisor, who could talk to him and see what he said..."

"No, thank you. Now that I don't have a two-year contract, I'd like to downgrade. How much is it for internet only?"

"[Amount that is still unreasonable but is less than half the current price of the bundle]."

"OK, let's do it."

"Um, OK..."

Typing. Explanation of when the technician can come out. Assurances that I do NOT now have a contract, so I can cancel at any time without a fee.

"Um, you know, there is a possibility that someone could call you and find out what happened, why you're downgrading. Maybe that person could get your bundle back to [old price]."

"I'm happy to have internet only, but I would love to talk to someone about my experiences with Comcast. They can call me."

So you see, they are smart, but they are not so smart.

I Wanna Be in Goshen

This is what started it all...

Actually, a "rash" started it all.

Two weeks ago, Laynie got this red, puffy rash that looked pretty nasty but wasn't terribly itchy. It was on her arms, legs, neck, and back. After a few days, she decided to go to the doctor to have it checked out. Her family doctor referred her to a dermatologist, who took one look and said, "Anyone could tell those are bug bites. Probably fleas." He gave her a prescription for a cream but warned that we would have to figure out what was biting her and get rid of it. Easier said than done! I knew it wasn't fleas, because my family's dog got fleas once and I remembered that you could see them jumping around on the rug. Plus, I didn't have any bites... oh, wait, upon further inspection, I had two. One on my leg, and a very itchy one on my elbow. They looked totally different from Laynie's (small bumps), but the dermatologist thought they were likely from the same culprit.

That dermatologist visit was on Friday, April 24. That night, we started tearing apart the apartment, looking for bugs. We did not have much luck until Laynie pulled up a couch cushion and we found a red bug with blood smears around it (she probably smashed it when she pulled up the couch cushion). After some Googling, we identified it as a cimex lectularius. Bed bugs. Bad. Very, very bad.

I am becoming a veritable expert on the subject of bed bugs. And they suck. Literally.

We ended up finding 5 or 6 bed bugs that night, in the living room and the green bedroom. We did not find any in our bedroom, although obviously the bites were evidence that they had been there. I think neither of us slept much that night.

Saturday morning, we were waiting at the apartment office, with our little baggie of bugs, when they opened. The girl working that day, Jenn, took it pretty seriously and called the emergency line for the exterminators. Laynie and I went home and started cleaning and looking for more bugs. We didn't last long before we packed a few things and checked into a nearby hotel. Bed bugs do something to you psychologically.

We had developed dozens of bite marks by this time. Mine were INSANELY itchy, and some of Laynie's were getting itchy, as well. Funny that our reactions were so different. Hers show up right away and are big and red. Mine seem to show up a few days after the bite, only a few have gotten big, and almost all of them have been tear-your-skin-off itchy. However, bed bug bites are known to cause scars, so I have been careful about not scratching them.

So we stayed in the hotel all weekend (not this past weekend but the one before). When I called the apartment manager on Sunday, she tried to give me crap about paying for the hotel. "We'll have to find our where exactly the bugs are and where they came from before we make any decisions." The bed bugs I found didn't have their passports on them. But it did get me thinking... Where DID the bed bugs come from? I was thinking that they came from the Indian people who lived here before us. India is lousy with bed bugs (many of their babies are anemic because of it), and these people went back and forth from India. But who would live with bed bugs without telling the apartment complex? It's miserable. Unless they did tell the apartment complex, and that's why the carpets in this apartment were replaced. But Jenn looked surprised to hear that we had found bed bugs, and she didn't recognize them... she took our word for it. The office staff was tentative until pest control confirmed that they were bed bugs. Laynie might have seen one in the apartment before we moved in, but she isn't totally sure. I remember seeing a couple of bugs in the apartment before we moved in, but they were different... they had wings. 

Another explanation could be the moving van. They had blankets in there, which they wrapped around our stuff. That might explain why we didn't have any bites for the first week and a half we lived here. I don't know, but it wouldn't surprise me if that truck were infested... read my post on the move and you'll see what I mean.

Pest control did not call back the apartment managers until Monday, and they came out and treated the place that day. They used a powder and a liquid apparently (we were at work), and they put "glue boards" under the wheels of the beds. Glue boards are pieces of cardboard and have toxic, gluey stuff on the top side. They are placed under bed legs and allegedly stop the little buggers in their tracks. When we returned Tuesday morning (we missed check out time on Monday and were glad to have one more night feeling safe), there were bed bugs on the blue boards of both of our beds. There was also one crawling on my bed. Sigh.

We were both busy with work last week; plus it was Laynie's last week of school, and she had papers and projects due. So we didn't get a lot of cleaning done, although we did try to keep laundry going. Every piece of fabric in the apartment had to be washed, and I decided to wash clothing after each wearing. Usually I use pajamas a few times before washing them, but I didn't want to take any chances.

We continued to find live and dead bed bugs all week. On Saturday and Sunday, I was finally able to focus on really cleaning this place. Laynie had a lot of grading to catch up on, so she did that. Keep in mind that we just most a few weeks ago, so we still had plenty of unpacking to do. I worked a lot in the green bedroom, which had the most to do. My goal was to get that room completely unpacked and move the boxes from the blue bedroom (ours), which were mostly books. We were planning to get shelves for them to put in our bedroom, but I wanted that room as bare as possible. Pest control had told me that bed bugs can live in paper products. My other goal for the weekend was to get through the large bags of clothing, bedding, blankets, towels, etc., which were in the living room and dining room. On Saturday, I got the green bedroom mostly finished. Also, we went out and bought some battle gear: carpet tape to put on the bed legs, "Space Bags" to store cleaned fabric items in, etc. 

On Sunday, I finished the green bedroom, got the book boxes from the blue bedroom into the green bedroom, and finally got into the laundry. We did not go to church, because we did not have any "safe" clothes. Our only safe clothes were a couple of t-shirts, jeans, and pajamas. We finally found the church clothes yesterday, so we should be able to go this week. I know that they think we're apostates, because we didn't go for two Sundays, and we had missed a few before Conference for other reasons... oh, well.

Pest control had told me they would come back in a week, so I called the office yesterday to see when they would be coming. Naturally, they had not spoken with pest control, but they got in touch with them and set an appointment for today. For some reason, it has now been put off until tomorrow. I'm really looking forward to getting new glue boards under the bed legs and more poison powder put down. Any little devils that have hatched in the past week need to be killed. And my goodness, they are tiny little devils!

I had packed my stereo (CD player with separate speakers) in an insulated Giant bag to move it. The bag has a fabricky exterior and a shiny silver sort-of-like-foil interior. I took the stereo out on Saturday and set it up on a bookshelf in the green bedroom. I noticed some junk in the bottom of the bag... dead bugs? They turned out to be dead adult bed bugs, which are about the size and shape of apple seeds. What I thought were little poopies or shed exoskeletons turned out to be bed bug nymphs (babies). They were so small! And translucent. I found 4 live bugs in that bag, all nymphs, and 24 dead bugs. I had been feeling pretty decent (slept more than 45 minutes in a stretch on Friday night for the first time since this all began), but that just destroyed me. How would we ever find bugs so tiny and translucent? We might not even notice them if they were on us. I decided to check the stereo itself and found two under it. I put it back in the bag, sealed it, and threw it away.

Who knows how many other hiding spots (clutches?) the bed bugs have established here. They can live in cracks in walls, under baseboards and carpets, in electrical outlets, and in light fixtures. When I cleaned the apartment over the weekend, I found none in the blue bedroom or the living room. However, I found one crawling on my bed last night, and we still get a couple every night on the glue boards. Since returning from the hotel a week ago, we have found 36 live and 31 dead bed bugs. 

We have had less new bites in the past few days than before, but we are both totally paranoid. We are jumpy, always thinking we see or feel a bug on us, and we have nightmares about it. Actually, we pushed our beds together Sunday night... I guess it somehow feels like we're "united" against the marauders. Honestly, the psychological impact is the worst. These creatures suck your blood while you are at your most vulnerable: while you're sleeping. You can't feel them crawl on you, and their saliva has a numbing effect, so you don't feel the bites while they are happening. Clean houses are as likely to get them as dirty houses, because they don't eat junk that is lying around. They eat people.

I don't need horror stories. I know that they are extremely difficult to get rid of, etc., etc., etc. Please do include us in your prayers, however. Bed bugs have to obey God, right? We are learning a lot from this experience and are seeing the hidden blessings. We now have an extremely clean apartment and got unpacked much faster than we otherwise would have. I will forever be grateful for the simple blessing of having as much blood when I wake up as I had when I fell asleep. I'll certainly never complain about ants again! It's probably time for this trial to be over.

Laundry calls. 

The first group of offenders. 

Good thing we saved them in these baggies, because 

pest control found nothing when they checked our apartment. 

This evidence got our apartment treated.

We Moved

Well, Laynie and I are in our new apartment, which is a larger unit in the same development we already lived in, Riverstone. The main benefits of this apartment are the second bedroom and the garage, which has a little area for storage. It's so nice to have the Christmas tree out of the laundry room.

Moving stinks. I hate it. But it's worth it to get into a place that can fit all our stuff. I suppose that having less stuff might be an option, but what to get rid of? Therapy materials (I have tons of toys, games, and books)? Books? Cooking stuff? I have definitely dejunked things are not often used, as well as my thin clothes (sniff), but there's still so much.

The best thing about moving is getting a fresh start with the refrigerator. No, the freezer. A fresh start with the freezer is the best. I felt guilty throwing away all of the freezer-burned food at the old apartment, but I loved putting only decent stuff in the new one.

I've been unpacking the kitchen stuff, since that's more my domain. I love to bake, and I'm beginning to enjoy cooking, as well. So it makes sense for me to unpack that area. After we sorted the boxes together, I went to the kitchen and Laynie went to the blue bedroom, and we didn't see each other for several hours. Now it's Laynie's siesta time, so I'm with my best friend, iMac.

Our new apartment looks exactly like our old apartment, except for different countertops and an older microwave. But the off-white walls and white baseboards and molding are the same. You might wonder why I mentioned a blue bedroom. It's not that the walls are blue...

As I began packing, probably Tuesday of last week, I had a stroke of brilliance. Color coding! I knew that our movers would be unobservant (they would be men, after all), so any writing on the boxes would be ignored. Also, I have learned from my many moves that in order to read what is on a box, I have to move all of the boxes on top of it. Don't be intimidated by my intellect. So, I got colored plastic tape and labeled all four sides and the top of each box. Laynie was on board with this and followed my system with only a few reminders. Then, Laynie and I got matching crepe paper streamers (and one package of napkins... why no brown streamers?) and put them on the walls/doorways of the new apartment. The bedrooms were marked blue and green, and those names seem to have the stuck. Well, the color names are superior to what we initially called the rooms: the bedroom and the other bedroom.

Unfortunately, due to a lost keys delay (Laynie accidentally packed the keys to the new apartment and realized this as we pulled up with the movers and their full truck) and pouring rain, I ended up not making the movers follow my system. Instead, I stayed downstairs, watching the guy in the truck, so that he would not put our stuff in the rain for the other guys to bring into the apartment. I'm glad I did, too, because there were a bunch of wet boxes when I went down there. But the colors... best laid plans, I guess. Well, that system did help Laynie and I sort the boxes very quickly today.

Speaking of the movers... why can't movers just be honest? I'm not saying that there are no honest movers. But so far I'm one for three with hiring honest movers. When Laynie and I moved from south Provo to north Provo, we rented a truck and hired hourly workers. There were supposed to be four men, and three showed up. Czechs. They were OK. The driver was a fast talker, of course. Oh, my men, good workers, good men, three move you fast like four. Whatever. What could I do, say no? They stayed half an hour later than I had initially asked, which I expected, since they were a man down. But then the boss tried to charge me more. Right, like I was born yesterday.

For the next move, from Utah to Maryland, I was pretty stressed out about finding someone who wouldn't steal my stuff or change the price when it was time to unload. Stupid internet gives me agita. I ended up finding a good company, and the move was expensive, but they did a great job on both ends. And everyone spoke English, which was a bonus.

This time, I got Russians. If I thought the Czech guy was a fast talker... oh boy, he was nothing compared to the Russian driver. Of course, he tried to get me to sign everything quickly, but I read everything before I would sign. I refused to sign the time they finished and that I had inspected the truck and found it empty, because they were just starting to load. Again, I was not born yesterday. They took an hour and a half to load the truck, and when we got to the new place, the driver again tried to get me to sign the end time and the truck inspection. He put 12:40 as the end time. It was 9:15. I asked him if he really thought they would be there until 12:40. That would be 5 hours (plus a paid travel hour, naturally), as opposed to the 3 they had said. I expected unloading to take longer than loading, because they had to go up stairs and couldn't use the hand trucks. But come on. He said, "I finish 11:40, I give you money back." I was paying cash (like I'd give these people my credit card number), and I knew that if I gave him money, I would never see it again. I said, "You stay after 11:40, and I'll give you more money." I suggested 11:40 mainly because I didn't have the keys (remember, packed) and the office wouldn't open until 10:00. He wanted to argue with me. I told him, "You don't need to overcharge me, I'm going to tip your guys." The man with the missing tooth smiled. He was the nicest one. In fact, he picked up on my color code and tried to follow it for a while. He told the driver to lay off when he kept pestering me to sign that I had inspected the truck and found it empty, when they hadn't even begun unloading it. 

Anyway, after I mentioned tips, things went much more smoothly. I paid the driver and he started the guys moving stuff up to the vestibule. Luckily, Laynie remembered which box she had put the keys in (they were in the pocket of the pants she had worn the day before), and we got things going into the apartment at 9:35. They left at 10:50. Do you suppose I got any money back? 

But I did tip them. It's not the workers' fault that their boss swindles people. Besides, I know that my move was not easy for them due to the many heavy boxes. With my tons of church books and children's books, Laynie's ASL books, my sheet music, and both of our textbooks and "regular" books, we could supply a small library. Then there are the pictures, journals, scrapbooks... oh, gosh, our stuff is heavy.

Actually, I gave the Russians some extra money, because I had persuaded them to bring to Goodwill two heavy pieces of furniture (entertainment center and computer desk) that Laynie and I agreed we are sick of moving. 

The Russian driver emphasized SEVERAL times that I should ask for him by name next time I need to move. Hmmm... I'll have to think about that.

Anyway... nothing broke in this move. At least, not that I've unpacked so far, but I think I've found all of the candidates for breakage. Scratches and dings to everything made of wood, yes, but no breaks. This is due in part to my superior packing skills and in part due to the fact that we stacked the odds in our favor by moving all electronics on Friday. The TVs, computers, videophone, speaker systems, hard drives, DVD players, etc., were all in the apartment before the movers arrived Saturday morning. The piano, too.

I am so glad I did not let the Russians touch my piano.

I had piano movers and Comcast do their respective tasks on Friday. The piano movers from Maryland Piano were nice and did a good job moving my rather unwieldy upright baby grand up a 19-step, straight staircase to this second floor apartment. And I actually got a decent Comcast guy, which was a first for me. Literally. Let me tell you how great this Comcast guy was: he made the cable wire a little longer than it needed to be the reach the cable box, which was on the floor at the time. There was enough slack for the box to be place on, say, an entertainment center. This shows foresight and reasoning skills hitherto unmanifested by said company's technicians. Also, he tested the internet connection rather than just hooking up the modem, and when it was not initially working, he phoned home and got it working. Thank you, Comcast guy, for not increasing my stress. I'll even forgive your use of the f-word when talking to whomever it is you guys talk to (actually, I'd like to use that word when talking to Comcast on the phone). I pity you your dialect, which will likely prevent you from getting a good job, but I fink you was duh nicess Comcass guy ever come hur.

I'm glad the move is over. I think I'd like to stay in this apartment for two years.