Sunday, January 28, 2007

IT illiterate

The conversation between an IT literate and an IT non literate can be a painful one. I speak as one who knows. I am IT illiterate. With this in mind I usually try to avoid having such conversations with my other half. Especially as he has diagnosed that I have an inability to follow simple instructions!

This week however has seen the other half away with work. Under normal circumstances this wouldn’t be a problem. An odd phone call to inform me he misses me, can’t wait to see me and to enquire whether I have had anymore dodgy haircuts. However, this week he forgot his mobile phone. (Now of course some might say this all sounds highly dubious and the perfect excuse for him to have a nag free week! I agree it doesn’t look good – but then again we are talking about the man who once walked home from the petrol station and forgot his car!)

No problem he said, we can MSN. Typing messages into a little box and pressing return – what could be so difficult about that?! What indeed, well nothing bar the fact I kept getting disconnected and hopelessly confused in my attempts at troubleshooting. Increasingly terse messages from my beloved seemed to negate the idiom absence makes the heart grow fonder! I knew I was onto dodgy ground when the messages were being sent in CAPITAL LETTERS!

Fuelled by some kind of gung-ho mentality he then decided to go one stage further and give me a crash course in voice activated MSN! Still wondrous at the abilities of modern technology I took inordinate delight in pressing play and hearing his voice. Keen to reciprocate I pressed the buttons as instructed and started uttering words of endearment into the computer – nothing. So I began shouting words of endearment - still nothing!! By this stage I am sure the neighbours had a glass to the wall wondering what I was doing!

As 10 minutes became 30 and then 45 minutes with still no sign of a functioning microphone utterings of endearment became mutterings of frustration. Acknowledging that my ineptitude had beaten him we agreed to abandon any further attempts to communicate in this way.

Recovering from IT overload I was disturbed by yet more technology, my mobile phone vibrating somewhere in my bag. Retrieving it I was rewarded by the much cheerier tones of the other half. Courtesy apparently of skype. (Skype it would seem being some internet telephone software rather than an oddly named friend lending him his phone!).

An email to my phone the next day left me even more confused about technology. Computers that can make phone calls and phones that can receive emails. Perhaps it would have been better if I’d stuck to old fashioned letter writing!

Monday, January 08, 2007

A Hair Raiser!

I have not been blessed with well behaved hair; by this I mean that my hair does not resemble the stuff of shampoo commercials. In fact if I am honest it barely resembles a hairstyle half the time.

I have long since accepted my fate and now choose to have an extra 15 minutes in bed each morning rather than attacking my hair with an assortment of electrical styling implements. Of course I own a variety of the aforementioned tools, but they are safely tucked away in cupboards, collecting dust; the hot air blowers in the car have proven to be fairly reliable means of drying hair.

I do however have moments when I wish I could look stylish and at least give my hair some semblance of shape. It is for this reason that I actually quite like going to the hairdressers.

I’ve never quite gone regularly enough to have a usual stylist. Instead opting for the whoever has the soonest appointment approach. But I do at least show salon loyalty, although the primary reason for this is the fact they have fabulous chairs that massage your back and legs while having your hair washed.

Which brings me to today. Waking this morning and acknowledging that my hair now appeared to be growing outwards rather than downwards, I took drastic action and booked an appointment; symptomatic of my hair despair I always go into the hairdressers with the request: “give it a shape, maybe something different, whatever you think”. Over the years this has resulted in having 8 inches cut off, various perms, going blonde, going red and today’s restyle – having a fringe.

Having been assured that my cowlick wouldn’t be a problem - my other half says this simply means I apparently have hair like Jack Black in King Kong - she cut and cut and cut some more; while I sat in the chair twiddling my fingers, smiling inanely and wondering why it is that hairdresser’s mirrors always make you look so ill!

Some 30 minutes later the deed was done. The hair was dried and I was sat there not quite sure what to say. 6 hours later I’m still not quite sure what to say. Although the other half has, in between bouts of hysterical laughter more than made up for my lack of words regarding my hair (I elaborate for comic effect); he has of course been supportive: apparently it’s almost contemporary and it is only from certain angles that it makes me look like his mother!

The usual tricks of hair brushing or wildly shaking my head haven’t helped yet. All hopes are currently pinned on the impact a good night’s sleep will have; a true case of sleeping on it. Failing this, well I guess I’ll be back to the hairdressers tomorrow!