Momnesia

Memories All Alone in the - Aw, Dangit! Stupid AT&T!

AUGUSTA, GA. - So I've been remiss in updating, I'm told. I didn't realize that so many people hang upon my every word. I'll have to start grammar checking more stringently! Sorry about any misplaced... uh... okay, I never learnt me a whole lot of grammar.

That's not a joke. My mother, who teaches English at the college level in Atlanta, is constantly horrified at my lack of edumacation. I didn't learn what a direct or indirect object was until I started taking Latin in 10th grade. If you don't learn those little items, you can't conjugate crap in that language. Each word in a sentence is conjugated on its own, depending on part of speech, which one of the five declensions are called for, and... some other stuff that I've long since forgotten. Mi nomen est Stacia. Poeta et agricola sum amicae. Except for legal terms, that's about all I remember.

What was my point? Oh, yeah. That me not know grammar. Sorry about any misplaced modifiers or malapropisms that I may have inadvertently inserted. I'll do anything you want to apologize - except diagram a sentence. That's another thing I've never learned how to do.

"But don't you write award-winning, cutting edge journalism for a living?"

Yes. Or, I used to. Somehow I seem to have been moved into another department. Hmm... I don't... HEY!!!

I'll deal with that later. Anyway, I managed to digress before I'd even finished my first paragraph. My point is that I seem to have gone from overwhelmTgeng oversharing of intimate family medical drama to complete seclusion.

Except it was totally an accident. I ran out of texts on my cell phone plan (who knew I could even text 400 times in 30 days? That's only 13 texts a day, but still. Too much. Then, to top it off, our stupid Internet service provider - AT&T, I'm talkin' about you! - went out on us again. Since we signed up for their stupid service this past February, they've more than failed to deliver on their promises of service. Most of the time, I'd communicate faster with two tin cans and a string. In fact, I'm in the process of learning Morse Code so that I can maintain some form of communication in the future, when AT&T has redevoured all of the previous Baby Bells and the citizens of this flat earth suffer a catastrophic global communications meltdown at the hands of their incompetent "technical support" staff. Breaking up, as I see it, is not so hard to do. If only there weren't an early cancellation penalty equivalent to the average cost of one month's bill multiplied by the number of months remaining on the contract.

Where was I again? Oh, yes. Crazy texts. Crazy ISP. Massive bills.

But now the new month has rolled over and the stupid stupid AT&T service miraculously began working again, despite tech support's insistence that it had nothing to do with their service and that I needed a new (something) card in my Mac.

So, as you glean from the rambling incoherence demonstrated above, I have me a lot to say, people - and now I have the stepladder that ascends the soapbox of public humiliation. And, as we said in Ms. Kruek's class at Rockdale County High School: Purgamentum init, exit purgamentum. And also: Revera linguam latinam vix cognovi.

Poor Scott. Someone buy him some therapy.