taking the passive out of passive-aggressive

Thursday, April 28, 2005

Dear lord forgive me for I have no commas. I am writing this on my husband's debauched Mac. Full of cigarette ashes and enormous .wav files. And with a keyboard with no comma. The comma simply does not work at all. I sound breathless when I write on this thing. I've been avoiding posting because of this comma. I've realized that without commas I cannot write.

On Monday my computer blew up. Again. For the fourth time this year.

I am beginning to suspect it's me--some particular way my quarks spin that causes all laptops to explode. It doesn't matter much. The end result is I have to go to Best Buy and deal with the skinny tattoo boy or the big fat guy. Both in paper thin white shirts. Short sleeved. Who look at me like I'm insane when I march in there with purple hair saying "It's a video driver that hangs up on the boot. I think it's ATISGKAF.sys. I can still boot off the CD and I know the data is good." They don't believe me--nor do they write anything down.

Why won't they listen to me? They act very authoritative and dismissive and send the laptop somewhere remote. Where other men in thin shirts probably use my Google Desktop Search to look up dirty words and read my diary entries. "Tonight we fought over laundry and I feel really really hurt because he so doesn't listen to my needs and I really need to make sure my white shirts don't get all dingy. Oh yeah and Amanda did really well on her report card but I'm worried she's such a perfectionist." How disappointed they must be.

Anyway I decided I couldn't live without internet access at home. So I went over to the A/V department there at the Best Buy (inexplicably staffed by way cooler men than the 'puter department) and bought myself 25 feet of coaxial cable and some connectors. Hooked it all up like the nerd I am and got me some access. Only really it's not quite the same.

Working on someone else's computer is like living in someone else's brain. I've no doubt that my husband has figured a wrokaround for the comma problem. He may have even deleted "comma" from his mental list of available punctuation. He may not have any thought that involves a comma. All of his thoughts are now short and declarative--which explains a lot actually. Plus he has all these weird shortcuts that involve minimizing windows. So when I move my mouse in one or another direction everything disappears myseriously.

I'm kind of confounded by the whole situation. What kind of person can live without a comma? Who can possibly stand to have their dock so tiny and inaccessible that they keep launching programs unintentionally? Why are there five hundred items on the desktop? Is it possible for two people married ten years to think so completely differently about information?

3 Comments:

At 6:38 AM, Blogger The Cybrarian said...

I kind of like the breathless style. It sounds authoritative. maybe I'll try writing without commas now. Patsy is coming today and I have to go get her a new vacuum.

 
At 8:23 AM, Anonymous tbtine said...

Still, I'd rather have you posting without commas than without any at all. (I was beginning to get worried...)

 
At 3:50 AM, Blogger dogfaceboy said...

I like the breathless style, too. Well, look at it this way: I read a student paper yesterday about a woman who fell into a comma. She never recovered.

Commas can be dangerous. Watch out.

 

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