A Clean Desktop Makes For a Happy Heart. And Fewer Awkward Moments.

So, I took my Mac in to the Apple Store today to have one of those cutie-pie Apple dudes figure out why she's so excruciatingly slow. I love my Little Miss Macintosh. She's awesome. But she does have some, oh, let's call them quirks. Well, one, really -- only one, pretty much. Bob always says she's slow, and danged if I've ever been able to prove him wrong! Yeah, she's a little slow, but she's worth waiting for, I say. At least until recently. One click o' the mouse and you're stuck waiting for, like, 30 seconds!

Oh, ha ha. Make fun of Kimi for not having 30 seconds of patience. But think about it -- every click? No, it was getting bad. Especially when I'd accidentally click on the wrong thing! I'm not that coordinated and I often miss the little icon I'm aiming for. Those mice are hard to drive! (Doh! Funny pun! Hard? Drive? Hard drive? Computer? Get it?! Hoo-wee, I crack myself up!) It's the worst when I click on the wrong thing. I start pleading with my little computer friend, "No! Wait! I didn't mean it! Just kidding! Jay Kay! Aaaawwww! Come on! Don't show me the twirly timer thingy! Aaarrrrrgh!" That little twirly timer thingy is getting on my last nerve.

Anyway, remember when I said, "cutie-pie Apple dudes?" Well, normally the Apple dudes are cutie-pies. Some of them are even GIRL cutie-pie Apple dudes. But occasionally I get a not-as-cutie-pie Apple dude. (Um, yes, I do go in there often enough to know all of this. I took Mac classes, okay? You should all be so lucky, seriously! Right Erin? Diane? Taffy? That's right!)

Today, not only did I get a not-as-cutie-pie Apple dude, I got a dude with no sense of humor! And we spent like an hour and a half together! Well, you know how I like to try to make Embarrassing Moments funny instead of embarrassing? Well, you can't say I didn't try...

For some reason I forgot that he would be booting my computer up in public and in full view of anyone and everyone in the store. I should remember that because they always do and I always feel a little violated and exposed. Today I immediately noticed what a mess my desktop was! Pictures, files, and programs scattered willy nilly over my Lake Powell screen saver. Shoot! I should have cleaned that up and lined them up in neat little columns. And even though I'd already figured out my Apple dude was lacking a funny bone, I still went ahead and said, "I feel like I just let the cable guy into my messy room, you know, with my desktop looking like that." Pause. Then I had to do a little "that was a joke" laugh. No response. Nice. Way to make an awkward moment out of a bonding opportunity, Apple dude.

Next time I'm going to check the box marked Request Cutie-pie Apple Dude when I make my appointment. I must have missed that one and checked Request Humorless Apple Dude instead. I've really gotta learn how to handle that mouse better.

Nobody Puts Kimi In A Corner (Not Even Kimi)

Oh my gootness! I'm so EMBARRASSED!!!

Did you wonder why I haven't written for so long? I did. I knew it in the back of my brain, but I hadn't said it out loud and faced the facts. Until my friend Melinda pointed it out and she was SO RIGHT! I've limited myself, confined myself in a little tiny genre of my own invention! I can't write about EMs forever! And, you know, truthfully I still have them all the time, but -- and this is embarrassing to admit -- they are more often than not untellable. I know, not even a word, right? But who are you -- my English teacher? Fact is, most of my recent EMs are so bad I can't even write them in my blog. Why? Because my blog is supposed to be funny, not sad. That's why.

Many of my EMs have to do with my insensitive nature, my callous disregard for people's feelings. But only for the split second of time between thinking something stupid and saying it. After that I immediately come back to my senses and can't figure out why I would say/do something so awful. These are not funny moments. Embarrassing? Yes. Tellable? Nohohoooo-uh! UNTELLABLE.

Also, I have lots of funny stories that I'd love to blog about, but they aren't necessarily embarrassing. Well, it's my blog! Why can't I write what I want? Oh yeah, because I smooshed myself into a teensy category -- that, frankly, seemed big enough at the time -- and now I'm limited to a strict state of embarrassment only. Man, that's embarrassing!

Now I have to come crawling back here and change my blog. I'm going to leave the title the same, but I'm not going to limit myself, or you, for that matter, to endless EMs. Not that I won't write about any tellable EMs, I totally will. But I'll also write other stuff. Whatever I want. I'm the boss of me. And I'm the boss of my blog.

Revvin' My Engines (Sorry!)

One time I was at my daughter Andie's softball game, watching from the car because I'm a wussy girl and I don't like to be cold. At all. Even if my children are outside being cold. No sense in both of us being cold, I say. So I was hanging out in the car with Maddie and we were chattin' it up, even though there was some kind of loud motor sound going on around us. It was in the background sort of, so I didn't think much of it, other than thinking there was some construction going on or something. Eventually Maddie said, "What is that horrible sound?" "I know, right?" I said. Pause. Why is everyone looking at us? I thought. All the people who chose to stay out in the cold were looking my way. Don't judge me! I came early to get this front-row parking spot so I could watch from the car. I do it every week. You're just jealous that you didn't think of it early enough to get the spot! I worked hard to get this spot! Then I noticed my foot. It was pressed to the floor. With the gas pedal under it. Embaaaarrassiiiiiiing!

Is that all? Of course not. After the terrorized crowd got back to watching the game, I wedged my knee up on the steering wheel, partly to keep my foot from pressing the gas pedal to the floor again, and partly to get comfy while I read my book, er, uh, watched the game.

Oh, that poor little girl.

I'm talking about the child who walked in front of my car just as I shifted my position to get a little more comfy and accidentally pushed my knee into the horn. Poor thing jumped a mile. I tried to give her the "never mind" sign when she looked at me with a question (and possibly a tear) in her eyes, but I didn't really know that one, so I winged it and made some strange hand signal that only had her more confused. Then I tried to go with the "that was an accident" sign, but I'm not really proficient in my international gestures, so by then she thought she'd better just walk away from the creepy woman in the car who revvs her engine at the crowd and honks her horn at little girls and makes weird imaginary sign language motions.

At least Andie had a great game. I'm pretty sure.