Computer repairs.

For a while, my computer screen would flash off for a bit, then finally one night it gave out when I was working at a bar and a woman stomped off after some sports game that had ended on television.

I was spazzing since I had an article draft deadline due later that night, and the next morning at the computer store they quoted me $90 for labor and some unpredictable amount for parts, probably like $100-$180 more on top of that initial $90.

I found that wacky since my hunch was it was just some wire that was displaced, so that day at work I googled phrases of what my laptop did, to see if anyone had listed any quick fixes online.

They said it was likely a wire that was jarred loose in this one predictable part of the computer, so that night after work I unscrewed the laptop back and found that one wire and repositioned it, and then I flipped my laptop over and tested it, and the screen worked again.

Since I had a draft due, I didn't move the f*cker right away again and I just worked for a few hours and finished the draft right there, saving it on a thumb drive all the time, all the while while some random laptop screws were just sitting out on my kitchen table just beyond my right hand as I typed and moved the mouse.

Then, I shut the computer off and screwed it back up.

I didn't even touch it for a few days, I was so afraid that something wouldn't work again.

But, when I turned it back on again, the screen worked no problem, and it has ever since.

Win!

So I burned some hormemade tortilla chips that I made up for my one client with disabilities.

The other week at my one client with disabilities's, I went to go make up some homemade tortilla chips for her, but I ended up burning them a bit since I was also trying to bake something else in the oven at the same time and I didn't quite realize the effects of the variance in the temperatures and the time.

When she started eating, I checked with her, and though she was nice about it, she admitted that they were burned, and that she'd rather not eat them.

Since I hate food waste and I had brought up a forty-cent pack of tortillas from my own grocery store shopping that she had paid for and we had only used like half of them, I said I'd eat them myself since they weren't all that bad, and that I'd "credit twenty cents to your bill, Ma'am."

She laughed at that, and then since she has a perverse sense of humor, I made a joke like I was submissive, that I had probably purposefully burned the tortilla chips, so she could berate me and I could end up eating all the burnt ones in front of her while she watched.

She laughed at that for a while, and then she said that she could also cast them on the floor, so I could get on my hands and knees and eat them up off the carpet.

. . .

LOL.

Addendum on lesbian feminism.

At the last concert that the one (lesbian) (feminist) sister of my one client with disabilities sang in, I was talking with my one (Asian-Canadian) friend before the concert began, and this one (older) (white) lesbian turned around from in front of us from taking care of her like six year old daughter to go and talk with us.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I overheard what you were saying," she was like.

At that point in the conversation, I had been gushing over how much I like lesbian feminists and how they do so much more than toxic mainstream gay culture, and my one (Asian-Canadian) friend had been disagreeing and saying that there were pockets of (gay) men trying to lift up the same vision, and we just had to pay attention and find them and lift them up.

So, after we had introduced ourselves and she pointed out her wife - "That one's mine, the one with the long silver hair" - she said that the things is, "We all just have to unite."

"That's true," I was like, "But even if we unite, where are the resources?"

Then, I emphasized the lesbian common wisdom and ultimate truth that what with the gender wage gap, lesbian organizations are relatively underresourced, due to the twice-over discrimination that every lesbian couple suffers, and they can give so much less than (white) (gay) men, though they've gone and achieved so much more.

Our conversation continued from there, but she seemed to dig that I had said that.

How I do love lesbian feminists.

The other week I was talking with the (lesbian) (feminist) sister of my one assisted living client with disabilities, and she was a bit upset that the (lesbian) (feminist) chorus that she sings in had recently been described as 'racially diverse.'

"No we're not," she was like. "Yes, we're working towards that goal, but just look at us, no we're not racially diverse, we're not there yet."

. . .

I really do love lesbian feminists, and that comment is just so like the ethos that I love: there's vision, but it's grounded, and they recognize shortcomings, even as they dialogue with others and engage with and incorporate what they have to say.  Honestly, what's not to like?  Lesbians have been the great visionaries and institution builders of the gay community during the second half of the 20th century, and you just can't get around that.

<3 p="">

TV addiction of the one resthome resident who's ready to die.

So, I found out that the one resthome resident who's ready to die is addicted to "My 600-Lb. Life" on TLC.

I had stopped through her apartment the other week to check on her and she was watching it, and she was totally totally into it.

During a commercial break, she raised her hand frailly and pointed to the TV and the very fat man who had just been on screen and she was like, "He used to weigh two hundred pounds more."

She also said that the doctor he was seeing in Texas was a specialist.

"So there's a lot of people like him?", I was like.

"Evidently," she was like, and she gave a very very small but serious shrug, frailly.

Library puzzles are addictive.

Public libraries in my city are starting to put out puzzles to do, and dang, they're addictive.

The other week I went in to go check out a few books and then sit there and revise an article draft that was due that night, and the next thing you know, an hour-and-a-half had gone by, and I had gotten a big chunk of the puzzle done.

It was this lovely design reproducing an old (Italian) gramophone poster, where a couple in swanky clothes was dancing on a record set.  Sleek design, big chunks of bright colors.

Reflections on fermenting carrots.

The next time I ferment carrots, I need to make sure I put more salt in the brine mix.

If you don't do that, a sweet white yeast can start to form, and though it doesn't make the carrots inedible or dangerous to eat, it makes them a bit sweeter and less tangy and addictive than they usually are.

That had happened to me a couple years ago when I tried to make pickles, and I ended up throwing the whole batch out.

The white stuff settles on the carrots and the bottom of the jar, almost like dirty snow in some murky snow globe.