May 24, 2003

the flying fingers of technology

As I sit here, typing, I'm at home. On a new computer. A frickin' $2000 computer. We had a sizeable income tax return. At first we were going to pay off our bills. However, after we thought about it, we decided to just pay my mom - she bought Jay a point A to point B car (in other words - a piece of junk), and the insurance, so we're paying her off. I have to be in my best friend's wedding on Aug. 2nd - so I have to buy a dress, shoes, gifts. Jay hit me with the fact that he needed this computer for school - and future jobs for that matter. It's got mega doses of ram, hard drive space, memory, writeable dvd-rom, etc. He needed to be able to run AutoCAD and AutoDesk at the same time. Hence, our super computer. We're also paying my portion of the surgery from the taxes.

I have to admit, although I hyperventilated (I'm not kidding) when I saw the cost, I'm loving this computer. It's fast. I think I actually like Win XP. No hang ups. Online access has yet to disconnect (I think it had to do with our modem, not the the actual connection and this proves my theory so far). It has all the bells and whistles. We also got a monitor - flatscreen - that's beautiful. Again, because of the graphics involved with Jay's schooling. I'm not sure if I'm being hosed or not. But I don't think so. His final for one of the classes this semester is to design and build a house from the bottom up on the computer. The specs, elevations, materials, all the way up the the furniture. And he's got to put together a 3-d animated video together of a walk-through of said house.

So maybe I'm not being hosed.

I think my husband is surpassing me in computer knowledge.

I don't like this. Computers and technology has always been both my forte, and my responsibility. The fact that I'm a perfectionist and a control-freak goes with all that. The tides are turning there, and I'm not sure how to handle it. I'm trying to do so with grace and dignity... While trying to stuff the snot-nosed brat inside me trying to stomp her feet and yell "That's not FAIR, that's MY job! Mine mine MINE!"

Okay, so Joseph IS my son.

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2:52 p.m.