Connectivity Interruptus. It’s a Dangerous Thing.

Um. Little problem. This is an arrow pointing to my LEFT ELBOW--not known for its digital genius.

How, tell me, how is an obsessed a passionate blogger supposed to cope with crappy abysmal unreliable internet service in a hotel? I’ve called the Front Desk. They told me to call a special Computer Magic Tech Number. It was magic. The whole time I was taking to Mr. Computer Magic, I had great connectivity. When I hung up, so did my computer.

I imagine Mr. Computer Magic looked like this: confident, competent, and sure as shootin' that my connection would end when ours did.

I’m now on one of the “Guest Computers” in the lobby that the hotel kindly provides for people who:

  • don’t have their own lap top because their company is cutting expenses

    The new designer look in offices: minimalist.

  • forgot their lap top in the overhead compartment

    I should've had a V-8. Wait. That's not right. I should have let the cat in. No. That's not right either. I know I forgot something. Maybe I should check my email. Oh no...

  • lost their lap top in some naughty hotel shenanigans during the “Electrical and Wiring Conference” (no kidding, it went on until after 9:00 PM last night)–must have been shocking!

    He's still got his top, and I don't want to know what's going on with his lap. But I'm pretty sure he won't be able to find his lap top or do any electrical work tomorrow...

  • smashed their lap top and left it in their WIFI-less rooms

    The "Anger Management Conference" isn't until next week. It was postponed because of Hurricane Irene.

  • like to talk to themselves while on the computer and have other people listen–there is a very confused man sitting next to me saying things like “What in the Sam Hill is goin’ on here?”, “Come on, Girl, we can do this.” and “Dag Blammit!” His wife must be napping in their room.

    Dag Blammit! I thought we had an understanding. If I ask you questions, you're supposed to answer me. Look at me when I'm talking to you, Computer Screen!

The keys on the keyboard are shiny and slippery. Why are the keys shiny and slippery? Isn’t there a movie coming out about germs? Please tell me it doesn’t start with a nice-looking blonde women in her 40s 50s whose immune system so compromised that she only eats organic vegetables, brown rice and herbal tea (and that’s on Thanksgiving) who is forced to use a public computer in a hotel lobby because the FREE wireless feels free to come and go as it pleases. Please don’t tell me that.

OMG, if it can happen to a famous and protected star like Kate Winslet, it can happen to me. I'm doomed.

I feel the symptoms of something coming on…

  • more typos than uhusal
  • I can see my fingerprints on my fingers from keyborad goo
  • unusally long sentences that make sense only if you read them over and over and over and over again
  • continual repetition
  • paranoia and a feeling that this hotel is out to get me, which it is–I know because people are staring at me because I been at this computer for over 3 housr and over 3 hours and people open and close the door around me, going out and in and in and out, just wondering what I’m doing here

Help me before I do a Medline Seacrch…

It's worse than I though. When I started this post, I was wearing a short jeans skirt, a slinky lime green tee shirt, and black flip flops. I'm now reduced to a sloppy male skeleton. Well, my diet may have something to do with the skeleton part, but the male in sloppy clothes is all the keyboard virus's fault. And The hotel's fault for have such lousy WIFI.

~ by Lorna's Voice on August 30, 2011.

20 Responses to “Connectivity Interruptus. It’s a Dangerous Thing.”

  1. That’s easy. I’ve been blogging for just under 4 months, all of it in the privacy, quiet and comfort of my living room. That is, until yesterday when I was launched into the perilous world of blogging in public on a…gulp…public-use computer. I didn’t even intend to blog on that topic, but when I saw the slippery keys on the keyboard, my mind went zipping in that direction. Thus that post was born.

    I’m not nearly as risque as you might imagine. Golly gee, I don’t even swear. 😉

  2. So you did the deed hastily and bolted? Now you’ve got me wondering about a possible topic: In the throes of your passionate desires, where was the riskiest place you’ve ever blogged? 🙂

  3. So you think I’m obsessed, eh? That’s okay. I just described myself yesterday to someone as a writer who blogs to pilot her book and hone her writing skills. Like you, I think writing every day is important to who I have become and will be. You also express yourself through your creative visual arts, which are stunning. I create works of art with fabric.

    I guess I’m obsessed passionate about creating. 😉

  4. I’m back, Al, thanks to a magic blue cord plugged into my computer and the modem in my room.

  5. I wonder how amy hotel workers around the world find various phones and lap tops on the outside pavement…?

  6. Phil, you always make me laugh–“Premature Postus!” Actually I thought I may have fallen victim to that with this post. I just wanted to get off that slimey keyboard, so I didn’t take the time to go over the post and edit-to-death like I usually do.

  7. You may be on to something. He is a very crafty critter…

  8. I’ve got this nice little blue cord plugged into my computer and the modem in my room. It works great and reminds me of my youth–you know the days before WIFI and 5 remotes for one TV and phones smarter than me?

    Thanks for the concern, Molly!

  9. Thanks. Was it any good? I haven’t gone back to read it. I did the best I could, hit “publish” and ran to my room to take a shower!

  10. Icky is right. Plus there were two TVs and music playing to drown out the constant conversations. I was going stir crazy trying to concentrate.

  11. Finally fixed with a blue wire plugging into a modem. It took all day, but the “old fashioned” solution is the one that worked and it was Phil (my guy) who came to my rescue.

  12. So sorry you’re having trouble–what a drag.

  13. There is nothing more frustrating then having to use a public computer . The mere presence of other people in the room give me the cooties.

  14. Poor you. That is more than frustrating and a credit to you that you generated such a good post out of your frustrations

  15. A business trip, sweet suite, gourmet grub … connectivity bouncing about like a couple of honeymooners and deadline beckoning – piss ‘n puff was that “a cleaner vacuumed comms room – knocked loose the plug” Hope it’s improved, Lorna? cheers catchul8r molly

  16. It’s a conspiracy started by Scrappy to make sure you are uncomfortable and return home to him and uninterrupted Internet service. Just ask him, but I bet he won’t fess up; a sure sign of guilt.

  17. I’m thinking bed-bugs are a minor nuisance when compared to internet connectivity. I roared with laughter at your description of the various reasons for having to use the “business center” complimentary workstations. While Connectivity Interruptus may very well be a frustrating experience, at least it is not Premature Postus, which can be rather embarrassing and quite awkward. 🙂

  18. I had the same thing happen to me last week. I went to Prescott with my husband and midway through the first evening we were there, my laptop went wonky. I could get email but I couldn’t send it out. When I went on Twitter the screen would freeze. And I constantly got the NOT RESPONDING message. I’m amazed I didn’t throw it out the window. Anyway, I feel your pain.

  19. Holy cyberhell Batman! I wondered why we hadn’t heard from you. I was pretty sure that if it was Armageddon someone would have told me. Glad you prevailed.

  20. Yes, you are a little obsessed with blogging. 🙂
    I only realized how serious it was around the time Anthony Weiner was caught sexting because a blogger broke the story and of course people have turned them into best-selling books.

    I guess your not having a consistent connection makes having a laptop or computer kinda useless almost. Frustrating…

Silence can be just what the doctor ordered. You know I'm a doctor, right?

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