Greetings and slobbertations...er, salutations. Something like that, yeah.

It's a wondrously gorgeous day outside, finally, here in Central Connecticut - and as luck would have it, I'm chained to my desk in a sub-sub-basement at work. Par for the course, sure, it being work and all, but the lack of windows definitely has a tendency to make one grumpy.

Ah, smell that fresh, recycled dusty air and the lingering body odors of the unwashed heathens! Okay, okay, perhaps I took a bit of poetic license with that last comment, but whatever it takes to help brighten up this sad exista....ow! Okay, desk lamp with way too high wattaged bulb - NOT the answer. I just love those bright circles each time I blink. It's like polka dots for my brain.

Now that you've been sucked into my little blogspace on the 'Net (mmm, vacuums!), let me introduce myself:

I am a 30-year old technical support specialist. What does this mean? Well, in short, I'm a geek. Yes, I like computers. Probably too much. I fix them. I break them. I break them some more, and then I put them back together only to change something five minutes later and go on a f-bomb rampage when I realize that I just fried the operating system. Again. But this is how you learn. This is why I now have the patience to explain to someone that loading SmileyCentral on their PC was, in fact, a really really bad idea... ("But, but...look at all the smiley faces! They're so cuuuuuuuuuuuuute! They are they are they are, so there, pbbblt!") ...as their PC turns rather quickly into a very bright display of pop-ups and eventually crashes. Mmm, nothing like a $2500 doorstop.

So....yes, I relate rather well to those Dilbert comics, realizing that yes, people really can be *that* moronic - yet, here I sit, walking them through the most mundane of tasks with comments like - "No, ma'am, when I say, 'Right click on the screen, I did NOT mean use your pen to write upon it. Yes, ma'am, you'll need to scrub the ink off now.'" *sigh* and "Yes, sir, it very much does help when you have the ethernet cable plugged into the laptop... (but you should have realized this TWO HOURS ago when I asked the first 3 times! GRR!)".

And I work second shift, so my life is slightly out of phase with the rest of reality. My family would probably respond with, "Only slightly?" but it makes for a rather quiet existence otherwise. Mondays are REALLY REALLY sweet - no parking hassles, no traffic hell to contend with, but Fridays? Eeech, everyone's half in the bag by the time I get home. Planning things to do can be a chore. But I like meeting people, tend to be addicting to chatting, even if I'm a slightly (ha!) sarcastic, completely silly, old fogey with a mind that tends to troll in the gutter. This is somewhat corny, but my response to that kind of comment?
"Honey, with my mind in the gutter, it's that much easier to look up your skirt." Ahem. Anyway...

I'm married. For nearly five years now. Yowzers. Yes indeedy. Hey, when I said I was a geek, this does not mean I'm 30 years old, living in my mother's basement and existing solely off of 2 liter bottles of Mountain Dew and stale Cheetos. First of all, I grew up in Phoenix - I didn't know what a basement really was until I was 13. As for Mountain Dew? Lovely liquid green radioactive substance that it is, I'd go into serious sugarshock from the first 3 sips. W00t. The life of a diabetic - pass the damned Twinkies already, it's no wonder I'm grumpy, darn it. Boy, I miss those Cheetos and the satanic orange smears they left on my fingers, the keyboard, my forehead, etc. And yes, my wife is a very sweet person who might earn herself a medal for putting up with the constant barrage of lunacy that I torment her with. Well...she would, if she weren't already half as loony as I am. Heh.

I have a dog. Nice medium-sized reddish-brown pure-breed golden retriever named Bailey. Very loveable, friendly, mild-mannered, and I've known beach balls with more brilliance. Oh, he's intelligent in the "Hee hee, they pet me, they feed me, and do my bidding and all I need to do is pant and stick my tongue out...and pee on the carpet with glee while I plan on dominating the world!" sort of way, but Mensa genius he is not. That's fine, since most Mensa geniuses got the brains but not the common sense to go with it. Then again, neither does Bailey. Oh dear. But I still love that little slobberfiend of a fuzzbucket. Even after he pees on the carpet.

Oh heck, there's a ton more to write, but no time right now to write it. Sucks, huh?

So, er, shouts out and frantic mad waves to those people I already know who are reading this, and even to you newbies - you're in for a wild, slightly erratic ride into the twisted confines of my skull. Strap in and take that dramamine, you're gonna need it!