This is costing me ridiculous amounts of money to post.

Our Verizon FiOS box (the ONT box, not the BBU) died unceremoniously last Wednesday... it is not getting power unless the battery is providing it... however, batteries can only provide power for like 11 hours until they drain. They are not rechargeable. (The power outlet is fine, for you troubleshooting at home.)

This means we have no home phone and we have no wifi, and my main desktop computer has no internet access since it has a hardwired network connection.

This means that in order to get on the internet, we must use our cell phone minutes (which are looooong depleted now).  So using the internet (as I am doing right now) is costing me cell phone overages. I can't imagine VZW waiving these overage charges because Verizon's Residential Service wasn't working. I can't imagine they talk to each other.

The problem is that we had a freak hail storm affect our neighborhood and Arden (across the street) about 3 years ago, and the hail storm knocked out the Verizon cell equipment there... so if you live in our neighborhoods you have baaaaaarely one teeeeny micro-bar of Verizon cell signal here.  It's enough signal to get text messages, but it's not not enough signal to have a pleasant cellphone conversation (hence why I still pay for a landline).  Connecting to the internet via cell is just okaaaaay. 

Anyway, the Verizon tech was supposed to be out here on Saturday between 11 and 3, and never showed. I opened another ticket so we're trying again for tomorrow. Fucker better show. 

Guaranteed I'm gonna need a new ONT (optical network terminal) because I suspect they've been wanting to upgrade it for a while (to charge me for faster service that I do not need). I'm gonna be pissed when it costs $350 to fix what is essentially obsolescence. 

I know I sound like the crazy old idiot who doesn't wanna upgrade from Windows XP, so I will go along with their upgrade. But MAN I don't wanna have to pay for it. But I use the WinXP analogy, I know it's my responsibility.  But I still get to be annoyed about it.

Guy better show up.

This entry has been copied/pasted from xtingu.dreamwidth.org/1034861.html .
I was happy to see that rone replied there.

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Wow, I've been writing a lot. I take this as a good sign, and maybe the first sign that maybe my hermitty ways may be ever-so-slightly starting to lift. 

I wanted to jot some things down so I don't forget them, in no particular order.

1) My company, Knapp I.T., Inc. is celebrating its 10 year anniversary this year. Coincidentally, my brother's company, Jephens Tech is celebrating 20 years this year. I feel like we should get the employees of Boutell.com and Moskowitz-Inc and go spend some pre-tax dollars on an employee appreciation dinner. :-)

2) If my company is 10 years old, that means I've been living in my house for 10 years come this November. Jeeeezus. So much for only moving to Delaware for six months until I figured out where I wanted to wind up. :-)

3) Matt and I have tickets to a Phillies game tomorrow. The weather should be perfect. This will be my first time at the "new" stadium. 

4) Our home wifi dies once a week or so, and one of us has to go reset the router in the basement when that happens. So this afternoon the wifi died, but it turns out my entire FiOS box is dead dead dead... it's not getting power at all. The outlet works, and the battery backup seems to be charging, but no power is getting to the main unit. Not sure what's happening, but the nice Verizon man will come out on Saturday to fix it. Until then, we have no land line, and only Internet on our phones. Hmmmm. Suboptimal. 

5) This past Friday we went to Hummingbird to Mars, which is a cute speakeasy sorta place in Wilmington. It's not as swanky as Please Don't Tell in NYC or the Franklin Mortgage and Investment in Philly, but it's fine for Wilmington. We went with our pal Brian and also with Kevin and Lee. We all agreed it was very civilized. And no matter how foo-foo and well-prepared a cocktail is, I just don't give a crap about drinking. Gimme a ginger ale and I'm happy. 

5a) I went for a quick check-up (more like a check-in) with my regular doctor and he asked me the usual questions. When he asked if I drank, I said no. "Not at all?" "Nope." "Not even a glass of wine?" "Maybe once a year..." "Wow, OK." I found his surprise amusing. :) Anyway, he gave me crap about not having a gone for a recent mammogram or a DEXA bone density scan, so imma go do those, along with my big annual bloodwork and anemia labs.

6) Last week our pal Noelle was releasing her new EP at the Wilmington Art Loop, so we went to grab a copy and to see the gorgeous photo exhibit of images by Joe del Tufo that accompanied the album. We then went to the DCCA to see Lauren at her art studio and seeing all of her paintings made me itchy to paint again. So I started a new piece soon to be called "Hello, Pinball." I love it so far... really proud of it, but the hardest part (the lettering) hasn't begun yet. I can't decide what color to make the letters yet. Hmmmm.

7) Tonight while I was painting, I saw the BIGGEST FUCKING ANT I have ever seen in my life, and I ran screaming as if I were getting axed in the face. Matt saved the day with a slipper... and it took me 10 minutes for my heart to stop leaping out of my chest. I love bugs, spiders, beetles... but ants? NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE. Little ants? If there's only one or two, I'm ok... but if there's a line, or wosre, a pile? AAAAAIIIGGHH!! And big ants (like carpenter ants)? FUCK THAT GET A BAT. This ant that I saw was waaaay bigger than a standard-issue carpenter ant. I don't know what the hell kind of radioactive mutant ant it was, but if I had to guess, it was probably called a OH MY GOD GET IT AWAY FROM ME KILL IT WITH FIRE ant. 

8) When my company was born all those years ago, one of the first things I did was hire an accountant/bookkeeper. Her name is Carol, and I honestly couldn't run my business without her. She's funny, she's brilliant, she talks to me like I'm six, she fixes my QuickBooks stupidity, she handles forms and files my taxes and just takes care of everything and keeps me out of jail. I love her. Welp, she used to be a one-person business, and then she got bought out by a bigger firm, and now that firm is focusing on wealth-management clients and getting rid of their accounting/bookkeeping clients. I am heartbroken. I mean, I totally understand of course. So we're trying to tie up as many loose ends by the end of the month as possible, because she officially goes away on June 30th. It is daunting trying to find a bookkeeper, an accountant, and someone who can run my payroll under one roof, so I figure I'll go back to using Paychex for my payroll at least. No idea about the bookkeeper/accountant yet. Gotta move on that soon, though. 

9) Last but not least: I need to see my folks; it's been too long, and I miss them. I have to figure out a Fathers Day Plan. I'm gonna call my folks tomorrow and see what they're thinkin'. 

Allrighty-- that's all the news that's fit for bloggin'.

As promised, you can now leave One Post Wonder permanently without asking for my assistance.

To access it, one clicks "Me," then "Account," then scrolls down a wee bit to the bright red words "delete my account."

I hate it when "delete my account" is hidden or absent. Had anyone actually asked for it, I would certainly have added it sooner.

I also dislike when the process contains unnecessary roadblocks. So my first take on it did not have a "confirm your password" prompt.

However, when I took a good look at the result, I realized that an unintentional, cat-powered or mean-jerk-powered account deletion was a real possibility, and that people do tend to value a journal they've been posting to for years.

So at some cost in convenience, I decided the password confirmation prompt was a good idea overall.

It's most annoying, of course, if you've forgotten your password. So the "hmm, sorry, that's not right" message also includes a suggestion to try the password reset feature if you're stumped.

I think this is a good implementation of a feature I hope will be rarely needed.

My next goal is a decent export feature, something that produces static HTML pages that a user of typical technical skill can figure out a way to enjoy.

• Dear OPW Lazyweb: I accidentally clicked the "Hey! I don't wanna receive these anymore!" link in the automated OPW digest email. How can I turn that back on?

Also:

• Matt Casarino started an OPW post on 5/30 but just made it public yesterday because he just finished it. So, if you're interested in reading his brain-pickinz, go scroll back a week. (or, click here.)

Also:

• I watched some of the Comey testimony today. I love Comey so much and wish he was my neighbor and I want to bring him chicken cutlets and a lasagna. He just seems like a genuinely GOOD person.  John McCain, whom I respect, sadly seemed doddering and confused and like he was genuinely struggling to make sense. It made me sad. 

• In other news, come to the Bellefonte Cafe (804 Brandywine Blvd, Wilmington) on July 1st from 8-10pm for our annual Hot Breakfast Summer Concert of Happiness. Good food, no cover charge, all that. 

• Lastly, please send good vibes to the Moskosteins... JD is not doing well (he's a very old boy) and they all need some good juju. 

We're not able to attend M&M's brightly-colored wedding, for we have a previous commitment involving a 50-year anniversary and people who want us to make music at it.

I am very sad to be missing an opportunity to be with my beloved PhilaDels all at once, but alas, neither event was ours to reschedule. 

I am hoping photos will be taken, and I am hoping that those photos will be viewable someplace other than Facebook... but I figure that latter-bit is a bit much to ask for. 

In other news, Matt and I did some of the Wilmington Art Loop this evening, and after we got home we listened to Noelle Picara's brand-new EP which she just released today (I dug it) and then I felt the need to paint. Being around so many artists made me wanna paint. So right now I'm working on "HELLO, PINBALL."   Painting a circle freehand is a bitch... it keeps getting bigger and bigger and bigger and bigger as I try to even it out.  I didn't wanna trace a plate or use a compass, so, this is what I get.

It's 5:54am and time for beddy-bye.

Xo

Moxi Roller Skates launched a challenge, posted yesterday evening on their Instagram.  It is the #MoxiSummerofSkate challenge and to win you must post a video or photograph of you skating every day for 90 days.

Want to win a pair of #moxirollerskates ?!?! Join our #moxisummerofskate contest! Skate every day for 90 days this summer and we will award 2 lucky winners a pair of Moxi Lolly #rollerskates each

To participate, you do not have to already own a pair of Moxi Roller Skates. This contest is for those trying to win some! 
To win, post a photo or video of yourself roller skating every single day for 90 days! Tag us and use hashtag #moxisummerofskate and on the last day of August we will announce the winners. Good luck and happy June 1st! Our first day of the contest! Need some motivation? Check out @_legs_ progress! She couldn't wait til we started so she got a jump on it a couple of weeks ago and is doing her own 100 days on her story.

I saw it late yesterday and hadn't quite realized their last day would be exactly 90 days and I started today. It's no matter, I love skating and I'm on my skates every day anyway.  What better way to use my rusty editing skills than some fun skate videos?

I don't do as many tricks, as I'm focused on more dance skating and I like to solo skate a lot, with my music in, but today was a hard day.  I have contractors at my house - the amount of imbedded sexism I faced today felt insurmountable, but of course it wasn't.  Still.  Strugging against that is exhausting.  You may win, or better, shift things a few degrees with the hope that those small inches change the trajectory, but it really takes it out of a body and a measure of soul too. 

It was great to lay that aside, and move around on my feet a bit.  Not pictured in the video is that there's a new threshold going out the door and I'd forgotten that and gave my body a good wrenching. Thank goodness for judo, I must say.

It's been a great small evening, spent luxuriating in the bath and cruising the hashtag for skate videos all around the world.  

I'd have more to say but all my words had to be used up as hammers today. There are times when skating has to be what it is, and maybe my video below will explain a little better, for those who don't skate.

There are very few phrases more reviled, and defended, than "trigger warning."

And without making it a thing (because that's not what this post is about), I see both sides of the argument. Yes, most of us did survive not only years of higher learning but decades of internet-plundering-and-discovery without the need to be "warned" that a piece of reading or information might "trigger" us to recall, or even relive, a past trauma. And trying to predict what those triggers might be is a terribly daunting task; ya never know, in other words, what might set somebody off. But for Jared Leto's sake, what is the harm of warning somebody that material potentially perilous for those who have suffered trauma or even PTSD lies ahead? Sure, we didn't do this in the past, but we also wore wool in the summer and enslaved people in the past*. What is the harm of briefly warning readers that the following material discusses subjects that some might find disturbing on a personal level?

So that's my position - I won't judge anyone for using trigger warnings, and I won't judge if you don't. But again, that's not really what this post is about. It's about my recent experience being "triggered," and what it says about my specific anxiety issues.

I've written about anxiety and panic a few times on OPW, and I'm grateful for the opportunity. It's a tricky subject for me - I love having a semi-public outlet in which to share some of my experiences with panic attacks, but I'm painfully aware "anxiety" is becoming, to many, one of those buzzwords that, like "chronic lyme," "chronic fatigue," and "fibromylagia," causes certain eyes to roll. After all, there's no test for anxiety, and like "chronic lyme," anxiety produces no antibodies; when someone says they have debilitating anxiety, we pretty much have to take them at their word. Lately I'm becoming hyperaware that, while few people doubt anxiety attacks exist, some are starting to think it's one of those too-easy diagnoses people give themselves to explain, or allow, the little breakdowns that come when life is a bit overwhelming. And geez, who among us hasn't been overwhelmed?

(NOTE: I embedded a video from SNL above. But it might not show up on a mobile phone - if not, click here.)

Funny bit, yes? I laughed at a lot of it - even the barely audible sigh of contempt from the narrator as he claims the high-maintenance girl "quote has...anxiety." Yep, I laughed - right through the pit in my stomach. 

I know it happens. I know some people raise their eyebrows at the idea that "anxiety" is really anything more than the feeling they get before a test, or a job interview, or taking a tricky pool shot with $5 on the line. To them, it's a 21st-century excuse, a make-believe affliction. "We all have anxiety sometimes," they say. "Some of us just know how to deal with it."

Or that's what they wanna say, anyway.

Look, I get it. I do. If I didn't know first-hand what it feels like when your fight-or-flight mechanism goes on overload, how it compromises my hearing and balance, how my muscles shake uncontrollably while a very strange kind of fear grips my throat, how my heart rate increases and, more alarming, feels like my heart is pushing against my ribcage, how tears stream down my cheeks like they need to escape my eyes - and how all of that happens while I remain aware (on some level) that I'm actually fine, nothing is wrong, no one is trying to hurt me - maybe I'd suspect sufferers of anxiety are making mountains out of molehills, or wanting the kind of attention that comes with affliction. There have been a few instances (see: above buzzwords) when I've thought specific people were (are), at best, mistaking - perhaps deliberately - their conversion disorder or muscle pain for an invasive disease. 

But, of course, this attitude doesn't help. As a good friend told me recently, "keeping it to yourself because you're afraid of the eye-rolls behind your back is a great path to depression and agoraphobia." So that's partially why you're lucky enough to be reading this post. :) Because I suspect all of the above factors into why I was triggered into a pretty severe bout of anxiety while in the safest place I know from the description of a years-old online video: 

Reporter Discusses How an On-Air Panic Attack Improved His Life

I didn't see the video. Heck, I didn't even see the headline: Jill did, and she thought it was an important video for her to watch. She asked me if I wanted to, and I declined - I figured I might find it upsetting. 

What I didn't realize is I was already upset. And my attack had already started the moment she read those words aloud.

The idea of the guy having a public attack while simply doing his job was my trigger. I only heard a few words from the video - the anchor (not the reporter) was simply introducing the story - when I realized I was in trouble. I told Jill I would put on headphones so I couldn't hear the story. But Jill put her own headphones on instead - for about three seconds, when she looked at me and realized I was on my way. And even though she did everything right, I was in for a remarkably extended attack, complete with an eye-of-the-hurricane break in the middle, which I foolishly interpreted as a welcome ending. It was intense and exhausting enough that we had to cancel our social plans that evening - plans that actually included hanging out with our friend who said the wise words above.

So what did I learn from this? Well, for one, this highlighted something I knew but couldn't really articulate: "triggers" are more than the various words, entities, locations, and situations that tend to get the fight-or-flight instinct churning. They can be ideas, concepts that suggest my issues go beyond my general phobias (which include being stuck in a big, chaotic crowd and getting trapped with a tight shirt halfway over my head) and into darker fears about public humiliation that I can maybe focus on a little harder. Because even though Jill tells me the reporter's panic attack wasn't graphic - he recognized he was in the very early stages when he smiled and simply ended his segment early - the thought of going through something similar, of being exposed while working in front of an audience, is nightmarish in a way I can't really express. (Even writing that sentence churned up the anxiety machine. I had to step away. It's now many hours later.)

So am I suggesting triggers are...good? In a way, yes. They hold secrets. Before that night, I thought my triggers were based in the locations where I had the worst attacks - grocery stores, the Verizon place (something about rows and rows of product), crowds in which I'm adrift. But now I know that there's a certain primal fear that can send my adrenal medulla into interstellar overdrive. And while knowing is decidedly less than half the battle, it's an important step. For me, anyway. 
_ _ _ _ _ _ _

This has been another eposide of Matt's Brain is an Asshole. Stay tuned for many, many more episodes. If you'd like to contribute to my Patreon, hold that thought until I create a Patreon. 

* We haven't actually stopped enslaving people, but that's One Post for another day.

I am jealous of Thomas Boutell ​​​​​​'s fancy bullets he used in an earlier post. I don't know if my bullets here will be as pretty and diamondy as his. Let us try in a listo!

• Last night (Thursday May 25th) was a bittersweet night... about 73 million musicians and singers and players* played over 6 hours of music in a huge, free concert on both stages as we said goodbye and thank you to World Cafe Live at the Queen in Wilmington. World Cafe Live pulled out of The Queen because it was bleeding money despite all their efforts to keep it in the black, and last night was officially the venue's last night, so all of the bands that were known to be Queen favorites were on the bill and we threw a Thank You and Goodbye show to give the venue we love a royal sendoff.

1. With that many bands and players/singers, there was no way to give everyone their own time slot; so we created these giant "supergroups." For example, Matt and I told everyone they could use our saxophone-playing skills -- so two bands (Shytown and Vinyl Shockley) took us up on that as we bulked up their horn section -- we played one song with each of those two bands -- easy peasy.  And then The Joe Trainor Trio became JTTwelve (!) because Joe added a sweeeeeeet five-member horn section, he added a guitarist, and three women on backing vocals, so Matt played sax for that, and I sang backing vocals. 
2. We were sent the charts for the two songs ahead of time, so Matt and I had time to rehearse them at home. But last night once we arrived and met the two other horn players for Shytown and Vinyl Shockley, they handed us a stack of music for a bunch of other songs and said, "Just watch us for cues," and away we went! Sight-read it on stage, no time to play through anything before we went on. I LOVE THAT.  And to sweeten the deal, these guys would even throw in the occasional "horn section moves" which were a blast... nothing too nuts... but every once in a while we'd do an intuitive choreographed "pop" and it looked cool as shit.  It felt SO GOOD to just jump in, feel trusted by strangers, trust them as well, connect into their neural network and be a horn section.  God, I love being a musician.

It was a magical, bittersweet night... and I'm so happy to be part of the World Cafe Live community.  

(And I'm also very happy to hear that we now have an "in" with LiveNation... but that's a topic for a different day.)

[Edited to add on Saturday: The muscles/tendons in my left forearm that control my left pinky (The G# key, as well as all the sub-C notes on a sax) is nice and sore, as are my hands and the muscles in my neck. I friggin' LOVE playing Moose (my tenor sax) but lorrrrdy these hands hurt afterwards. Totally worth it, though!]

---------

* There is an important difference between a singer, a player, and a musician.  Just because you can carry a tune or play an instrument does NOT mean you are a musician. Can you arrange a song? Can you tell me what a diminished chord is? Can you tell me the difference between dorian and mixolydian modes? Could you music direct a show? Could you write the parts out for all of these other instruments?  No? Then you're not a musician.  Words have power.  Please do not appropriate the title of what so many of us have trained so hard daily for DECADES to achieve.  

(x-posted to xtingu.dreamwidth.org)

It's inevitable, when you skate, that at some point you will fall and hit yourself, your body on the pavement.

I am grateful for my father who taught me to fall.  

I've been stalled in skating... a few days ago on Twitter I said, "Why not rennovate the house during a press tour?" and that's really been quite the issue. Inches thick dust, a confrontation with possessions that usually reside, possibly retired, in closets, all in the open and questioning their own extistential existance. 

Yesterday was long, in good and bad ways.  I took my son to judo, and as he was done, I slipped into the adult class, to my shock making it simply through the warm ups and into the grips and holds.  My son studies judo, my father teaches it.  I myself am a brown belt, but I have not practiced regularily in years.  Sill muscle memory and sheer animal intelligence prevail.  

That night, as I was driving back, my sitter texted me.  Like a drug dealer knowing when her client needs another hit.  "Hey, need any help tonight?"

And just like that, it was on.  It didn't matter that I'd worked ten hours, that I'd just done a two hour workout and was drenched with sweat, that that was my second work out for the day, I was ready to go.  I managed to get home, hastily eat an apple, and dig out my skates.  I did not have my indoor wheels on my Lolly skates, so I pulled out my Hello Kitty Skates, a limited edition skate by Moxi that I'd found by sheer chance on ebay.

I met with my skate buddy and we drove off towards northern lights, swapping stories of our days (we could not be more different professionally) and swearing at the traffic.  The whole communte north is a festering of frustration, raw nerve ends that irritate.  We made it with just an hour to skate, but better than nothing and as I glided out on the floor I promptly stuck one skate pretty  much inside the other and flew forward.  My skate partner is quite a bit bigger than me and well seasoned in derby so I didn't actually manage to knock us both down, he served as a sort of solid human wall.  But I found that I was still warm and alive from judo and quite unafraid of falling.

Even though the skates were stiff, and new, and the wheels aren't my favourite type, by a few laps I felt an ease skating that I haven't ever felt.  Dance moves I'd stumbled over weeks before were fluid.  I wasn't avoiding the floor, or the inevitable crash, I was prepared for it.  The saying in judo is, "Maximium efficiency for mutual benefit," and that applies to how you fall as well.  It was the best hour of my day, my week, it was unsurpassed, actually, and it was, quite simply, what I needed.  

Freedom comes in many forms and many tenors.  For me it's less about the pressures from the outside than the darkness on the inside, of self regard, of a a relentless drive for professional success that can be quite pensive and difficult to carry at times.  I find freedom in a shifting perspectives.  There's not a part of my life I don't carry with me and know the shape of, and regard as part of the mosaic.  Skating is no different.

And it's a simple answer to the next morning's process, when writing comes as it does so often lately, with little difficulty.  The organizational social geometric structures I compose for work, my own pages of words for pleasure and my own projects. I am certainly tired, and a bit sore, but there's nothing in me that scares away from that kind of difficult.

It's fairly easy to carry the falling metaphor to a conclusion and so I'll allow you to walk it there, as docile as it is.  It doesn't make it any less true.  I feel often I can do the most difficult things because I have the knowledge of how to fail, break, fall down hard, repair, solve and rebuild.  I think of this too, in the shockwaves that follow Manchester.  I think of it because yes, it is all connected.  All of it, everything.

From the ground upwards,

QRC

What was your last name before you were married?

Lynch. No, Gray. No. I don't remember. 

So... when you were a child, in school, what last name did you use? 

I'm not sure. 

I need this application for this document expedited it's an emergency I'm going to Jamaica on the 12th

(really? Because you need a liver transplant and the only place you can get it is at the world-renowned Montego Bay Hospital, under the care of Dr. Hurricane McRum? That IS an emergency!) 

we can have it for you in five business days, on June 5th.

no that's not soon enough I'm going to Jamaica on the 12th it was a super cheap package I just had to have it

the 5th is before the 12th

they told me you had same-day service here

we have same-day service in Scranton

why does Scranton have same day service and you don't? 

The population of Scranton is 75,281. The population of Philadelphia is 1.56 million. We get 200 applications a day.

but I can get same day service in Scranton 

ok, here's your application. 

*tsh* I can't go to Scranton

I guess  you're not going to Jamaica either.