PlazaJen: Passion Knit

This morning, I shouted to the Wo, "How do these socialites DO this?"

And then I answered myself, "OH because they don't WORK."

Having something going on every evening is fun, and it makes time fly, but I am, at my very core, a curl-up & recharge kinda gal. I love home. I love nesting. I love lamp. I digress. I have one more night of commitments (the Media Mix awards tonight at the Intercontinental, the name of which always makes me want to break into the delightful Christopher Walken routine of "The Continental" and flutter about with a hanky and glass of chamPAWNya), and then tomorrow is a day of NO meetings (yet) and a weekend of very little plans. So knitting, yes, that's on the schedule, and more laundry, and sleep, glorious sleep.

Randomly veering off-topic, did you know that the answering machine is rapidly becoming a vanishing machine? Ours got killed over the weekend by a freak power surge (and don't think I'm not wondering if this is all a frickin' conspiracy by the electric company - KCP&L - to convince us to sign up for Surge Protection), and I challenge you to find a decent selection of stand-alone answering machines ANYwhere, anymore. They're all coming built-in to the handset base, which you purchase in conjunction with fourteen other remote phones that you can sprinkle all over the house. I had finally given up & put the cheapest set I could find (only two handsets!) into my cart & then BOING, I espied with my lasiked eyes, lo & behold, a digital answering machine for $18. But I have a very grave sense that when this one dies, someday, (which if KCP&L has anything to do with things is probably going to be next week) we will be forced to move into a more modern approach and upgrade our solution. I realize we are already courting dinosaur-status by actually HAVING a home phone. But I'm old-timey that way. I refuse to give up my land line. It's the 9-1-1 factor. I don't care what you say about cellphone signals and towers and GPS and everything I've learned from my crime shows and real life, I just want my address to appear FIRST THING in the event of an emergency, and no triangulation required. I considered the dial-up voicemail option, which I used to have when I was "embundled" with the phone company, but we use the little dude (Birch) and frankly, I'm cheap about it. I can have an $18 machine, or pay $5 a month, which is the same price as a DVR, and I ask you, which gives me greater joy? Recording Big Love? Or having to dial a number and punch in buttons to get messages? Or paying $12 a month to make sure my outlets don't jump out of the walls and attack me with 220 volts? WELL. If they do? I CAN CALL FOR HELP because the phone works when the power's off! Hah! Feh. I am embracing my antiquity, and if you taunt me, I shall wear a BONNET, DAMMIT!

OK. Where was I? Oy. Racing around. Must get back to it. Tally HO!

Labels: life