Telecom Italia – giving a response, as usual. Or should that be – giving the usual response?

Yes, I’m fairly certain it was because my phone got wet in the rain last night. Now it’s dried out it seems fine.

And, so, I was able to call Telecom Italia about the lack of ADSL.

And yes, there is a problem centrally, somewhere. Of course, they’re going to send an engineer to fix it. And when will that be?

Well, Monday, of course.

Telecom Italia – a complete load of crap.

Spam comments; Mantova; Facebook and the changing of Social Networking

I’m getting more spam on here at the moment – all captured and not published but I still have to check it, so it’s a pain.

Usually, the English is terrible. Often, in spite of links to different sites, the messages are the same. I think the best one I have ever had was the one that just said ‘I hate you’ the other details of this were: http://www.lloydstsbbusiness.com/ (being the link), Holquist@gmail.com (being the email address) and 67.212.185.94 (being the IP address). I kept that one, even if it isn’t published. Most tell me what a wonderful site this is and how wonderfully I write and how the ‘post’ was so informative and was the perfect answer to some life-long question that the supposed person had had.

A few offer me ways to make this web site something that can generate so much cash that I would never have to work again. A few offer pornographic sites that are, of course, the best.

Still, the ‘I hate you’ one was by far the best and, strangely, I really love it!

Actually, I think I’m getting more spam because of my ‘Elton John is Gay!’ post. It has been the one most favoured by Google searches as of late. It seems that if you type in ‘William Hague Gay’ and search for images – the image I posted comes out as the first one! Who would have known?

Even though that image is used by a number of other newspaper sites, mine is first :-D

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I had a very nice comment from Saruk to say that Mantova will be waiting for me next time! I am so happy about that. The weather, this weekend, will be very nice and I remember so many nice years being at the Festival – even the year where an African artist, doing some rain-evoking chanting/dance thing meant that the heavens opened and the storm was so bad that the event had to be cancelled, people walking over chairs as the auditorium was flooded (perhaps God was looking down after all! :-D) – enjoying both the Festival and the fine weather, meeting friends from Mantova and the UK. Ah, good times.

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Facebook, the popular social networking site is losing some of its function – at least for me.

There are many applications (games) on there and, having moved on from Farmville, I am now playing Camelot. This is Farmville with wars which makes it a little more interesting.

Every time something happens (like you complete a quest or get a token from Merlin or ask for help building a castle or searching for your destroyed army after some battle), it is posted on your wall for all your friends to see. Since the purpose of this game is to grow and become stronger then encourage you to become friends with as many people as possible and so, now, I am ‘friends’ with people all over the world – people who I have never met and am unlikely to meet and who, in real life, are unlikely to be friends.

And, yet, since you ‘speak’ to a lot of these people almost every day, since you have common goals, since you are sharing experiences (albeit fictional ones within the game), they feel the same as real friends and provoke the same emotions.

There is laughter, crying, anger, frustration – in exactly the same way as if they were ‘real people’ (yes, I know they are real people but they are only ‘virtual’ friends, so you know what I mean). Recently, when the leader of my alliance was verbally attacked by other members of our alliance it caused a rift every bit as real as if we all lived in the same village. The hatred was just as vicious, the outpouring of emotion from all sides, just as real and vivid.

And, for me too! I was surprised at myself and noted how much I felt, how much, inside, I was upset or angered. The edges of the virtual and the real were blurred.

Originally, Facebook (as far as I was aware) was intended for a way to keep in contact with friends from real life; to see how they were doing; to share photographs; to tell everyone how you were doing, what you were doing, etc. But this ‘gaming’ thing is different. It never was quite the same with Farmville – but with Camelot the virtual world becomes another ‘real’ world, even if it isn’t. Friends are not friends but more like colleagues in the game with all the political and emotional ‘games’ that people play in real life work situations or, even real life social situations. Although it does tend to be a little more like school with it’s excess of pettiness, etc.

The major downside is that, with all these Camelot friends, posting all this stuff on the main page, the real purpose of Facebook has changed and it’s difficult to see what your real friends are doing, so lost are their few posts to the hundreds generated by Camelot each day.

So, whereas Camelot started as a subset of Facebook, now it almost seems as if Facebook has become a subset of Camelot! Of course, I could ‘hide’ all these Camelot posts. But to do that would mean that I lose out on free Merlin’s tokens and not be able to help these virtual friends of mine (and in turn they will not help me, perhaps?). Mixed in with these posts are the Farmville posts and the Frontierville posts (which, although I don’t play that, come up as some ‘friends’ do play it), etc., etc.

And, so, Facebook, instead of telling you anything about your real friends, tells you so much about what they are doing in these virtual games.

Of course, there is a solution to this (Facebook – if you’re listening?). That is to have two ‘front pages’. The front page for games and the other front page for sharing photographs, posting things of real interest rather than the fact that you are building a castle or have found, on your farm, a party duck, etc.

But, back to the game and how much real life is there in this virtual world. Is this what the social network founders had in mind? I suspect not. The creation of a world, bringing together people who will never meet and who, if they had, would never be real friends has, I suspect, modified the function of social networking, creating something that is similar to social networking but cutting across the boundaries of the real world.

But, then, this IS like the real world, I suppose, just on a global scale and in a virtual world that, to all intents and purposes, is a mirror of the real world. This gaming is much like school or work. People from different backgrounds and with different (moral) standards, forced into a small, inner world, where, here, they have something in common as one does in school or at work. The only danger that I see is where the virtual world of the game is taken too seriously (and I assure you that it is) by some people. There is a danger that the emotions in this world become too real and people lose the ability to see it for what it really is – a game and not really the most important thing in life.

Packing, English milk and other things

Of course, I should be packing now instead of writing this. But I am always ‘last minute’.

The dogs are in being groomed. I may have to collect them at any time.

F is at work. He is slightly peeved that I didn’t answer my phone straight away but it was on charge.

I’ve been and got the money from the scratch cards for him. I went to the supermarket to buy Autan because the vet suggested that this would stop the dogs getting bitten by sand flies (that pass on some dreadful disease, apparently) but I shall get a collar when I pick them up later too.

Whilst in the supermarket I saw that they had English milk. Well, not exactly from the UK but, rather, made in the English style. I drink a lot of milk. The problem here is that it is a bit watery for my liking. Proper, full-fat English milk would be great – except that they are in bottles. Not plastic bottles but glass bottles. So maybe I won’t. Carrying that back from the supermarket would be a real pain. Plus, it was expensive.

But now I must get back to packing. I don’t want to be doing it still when F arrives and wants to leave!

And, so, it’s unlikely I will post anything for a week and a half or so. I have decided not to take my computer. I have books and we have cards. The danger with the computer is that I will play the Facebook game – and that is time consuming and not something I should be doing when on holiday!

We have four days at the beach in Tuscany, followed by a week in Umbria, in the hills. It should be lovely. F wants to take Dino down to the sea because he thinks Dino will swim and enjoy it. I’m not so sure but it will be fun finding out!

And so, my dear reader, I leave you for this, our first real holiday together. I am so looking forward to it.

Whatever you are doing, have great couple of weeks and I will see you when I get back :-)

A Close Run Thing

It was a close run thing.

I don’t know why but there was a photo of this other guy that kept on appearing on the screen saver.  I need to change that when I get home tonight!  Luckily, that had gone by the time we had got back home.

Then of course, there was the blog.  But I’m not stupid.  I remembered that!

Whilst I had a shower, I thought it would be nice if he could do his Facebook Farm (isn’t everyone doing that, now?).  ‘You can use the computer’, I said.

As I went to open it up, I remembered to close the blog.

A few moments later, whilst I was changing into my bath robe for the shower, I saw he had managed to open up the document I keep open and, in which, I write my posts!  Bugger.  But then I could hardly turn round and say, excuse me please, whilst closing it down.

And, so, I wondered if he had read any – or gone back to look when I was in the shower?  And then I got to thinking – what if one of his colleagues reads the blog and then recognises him or other people in the blog and then tells him.

I can only hope that, if they do find it, it gives the name of the organisation so I can phone him first!!!!!

Perhaps I should just tell him about it and get it over with?

About Families and Death and stuff

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S, my colleague, has a father who has the cancer associated with asbestos, with which he used to work. When she first found out she asked me to look on the internet to see what British doctors had to say as she was thinking he should get a second opinion.

I looked for her. It became clear that, in spite of anything she may wish, this was terminal, with or without chemo. I feel sorry for her but in a detached way, as he’s not my father nor is she, really, a friend, for whom I am likely to empathise much more. And, in spite of the fact that she had complained about him and how they didn’t really get along for the last few years, I can see that it is affecting her deeply.

Another friend also has problems with his father, who I have now met. However, he doesn’t really tell me much although I think he’s worried. His father seems to be in and out of hospital most of the time although there seems to be some indication, from what he has told me, that it may be a little hypochondria.

And I wonder, at what point does the parent become like a child? When the child-that-was becomes more concerned over the parents well-being, health, state of mind, etc. than the parents ability to influence the child’s life? And, is the worry more associated with guilt on behalf of the child, rather than anything else? But, and this is just me talking in my own special circumstances, why the guilt? Is it because the child feels they ‘owe’ something to the parent who gave birth and/or nurtured them for the first x years or the blood-thicker-than-water thing (which, obviously, I don’t believe in)?

I have thought about my parents from time to time. I have played the scenario in my head where one of them is on their death-bed and, although seemingly impossible, they find me and I get ‘THE CALL’ – the one that asks me to go to their side.

I wondered why they would do that? To try and make it right, perhaps?

I have also played out the possible two responses. The first being that I would say ‘no’ because if the point was only to satisfy them then that’s not good enough. The second being ‘yes’ because who would ever deny a dying person the right to at least
to fix a problem that’s existed for over 30 years! I mean, with their last dying breath and all!

And would I, at that point, feel the guilt that everyone else seems to feel as their parents approach their last years? I would like to say ‘no’ but if I am to be honest, then I really don’t know.

Of course, the reality is that it would be very difficult to find me. Not because I’ve gone out of my way to make it so but because it has been over 5 years since the last contact with any of my family and, although there are ways they could find me, it would take a great deal of effort and, basically, have to be my sister who worked it all through. After all, I have one ‘advantage’ over some other people – my name is a very common name and there are many people with my name who are much more famous and, therefore, take up most of the Google web search result pages (and, yes, I have looked, as have most people, I would think). Although both this and a conversation recently means I really should take another look to see how difficult it is to find me, If one were to make a determined effort and had some basic information.

And, anyway, going back to the subject, I don’t fool myself that this call will ever come. I cannot believe that after all this time they would want to make it right. What good could it possibly serve?

Thanks to Ico who inspired this post and, in my case, whereas the rest of my family may be on one island (although I believe that they ‘suffer’ the same situation as Ico’s family), certainly, I am on an island well adrift from theirs and so far away that it is over the horizon and, if not in reality, might as well be the other side of the world.

And, whilst we’re on the subject of lethargy…..

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Sometimes (sh)it just happens!

So, I go to the shop last night and get the adapter I need. I get home and try it out. Boy, that Dyson has some sucking power! I clean the kitchen and the hallway and then, because it’s so hot, I have a drink and answer some emails. This not being Sweden, it is getting dark.

I decide to iron some shirts. Unfortunately the light in the lounge isn’t working. At first, I think it is the timer that’s a problem but, even plugged in (almost) directly, the lamp doesn’t work.

I try the lamp in a different socket. No good.

I try the bulb in a different lamp.

It’s the bulb. In a different time and a different place (namely, with V) I would have become frustrated and slightly angry with the injustice of all things that seem to conspire against me trying to keep the flat clean and tidy (which, in any case, is not working) but the time and place is different and I shrug my shoulders.

Although I remain disappointed, I know that there is no point in fighting such things. What is, is. I cannot, at this moment, do anything about it. The process to change bulbs, leaving some other area of the flat in darkness is just too difficult.

Of course, I should get off my ass and get some more lamps; get the lights that need fitting, fitted; do SOMETHING!

My lethargy in all things (except the dogs, eating and drinking) is really starting to annoy me and yet everything else WILL wait until tomorrow, let’s be honest.

And this includes the ironing, whilst I get a bulb (they are bayonet types since this is an Art Deco lamp from the UK and bayonet bulbs are simply not sold here in the usual shops) but, even then, tonight I am going to sort out the start of the ‘other’ work that really must move on.

Ho hum.

I had forgotten……

I_had_forgotten

……just how bad Telecom Italia were.

I am reminded this morning. No Internet. I phone the line. They ask if the ADSL light is on. It is. They do a check. They inform me that it will, definitely, be fixed before Thursday.

Someone (and I forget who) was surprised that Infostrada/Wind were so much better. But it is true. I think, in the 2 years (or whatever) I was with Infostrada, I only had to phone them once (and I’m not even certain that I had to do that!).

Whereas, with Telecom Italia, I had to phone them quite often.

They are, as I said before Teminally Ill – and crap with it.

I HATE TELECOM ITALIA! May they and all they arrogant, supercilious employees, rot in hell.

I remain, slightly, angry, in case you hadn’t guessed.

I clean and wait

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I should be working. Both ‘real’ work and the ‘other’ work (which, in reality, is just as real and, if I actually got my ass into gear, would pay for a new laptop).

I sit here, in the office, with my coat on. It is not so cold – except in this office.

FfI arrived last night; late. She should have arrived at about 11 and instead it was about 11.45. It did make me clean the house and put some boxes in the car to take back to V; or, rather, to take back to the old place to allow me to pack some more stuff to take away and try to find a place for it in a flat with no storage.

FfI bought me an ashtray and some chocolate-covered wafers from her trip to the strange land. The ashtray is nice and also very useful, since the split means I don’t have so many of them each. The chocolate-covered wafers are, apparently, fantastic. We shall see.

It was to be for one night. Now it will be two but she ‘should be gone after that’. Another friend’s ex-husband is leaving to go back to the country house and so there will be room. I am not holding my breath

I finished the cleaning; flattened some boxes; went round to V’s place (that was our place and now is an alien place even if the furniture is still ‘our’ furniture). I collected a duvet (it being so cold at night) for FfI, some mugs (I realised I only had two) and some pans (I had none). These things, in the main, having been forgotten by me in the rush to advise each of the packers in different rooms

V and I had a glass of wine. He lent me some incense – it being essential to mask the smell of the dogs, especially in this damp or wet weather.

I went home and sat at the kitchen table in the silence of the night although, if you listened hard enough, you could detect the hum of the traffic and the clang and grinding of the trams; I opened a bottle of wine and poured myself a glass and read the book that I had been lent about 9 months ago and should have finished about 8 months ago.

I wouldn’t do that at the previous home. I expect, when I get the TV functioning, I will do less of that. But, for now, it’s such a pleasure to be able to read in the dim light of one lamp (since all the light fittings have been taken – as they do here) and a glass of wine in one hand.

Dino, of course, wants to play. I am mindful that throwing things for him too much could cause problems for the people below me – first, the thud of the toy hitting the floor and then the clippety-clipping of the toenails as he scampers to retrieve said toy and then, occasionally, the crash as he slides into something like a door or bookcase.

When I stop the playing, he comes and, almost, takes my arm off, such is the force by which he ‘nudges’ me. It makes it difficult to drink the wine – I have to sip it in between the ‘nudges’.

FfI arrives and, having just travelled for hours, is not so sleepy. I pour her wine in the other glass I got out some time before, ready, for just this moment. She wants to hear about the flat but also wants to tell me about the trip; the things that were done; the shade of brown she has become; the men she has met or re-met; the old friends that she saw.

I only half listen. Had she not been coming I would have been like a log in my bed by half past ten.

As it is, we chat for a bit. I try to concentrate on what she is saying, I do, I really do.

I help her make up the ‘bed’ in the lounge.

I crash into my bed – I can’t even be bothered to turn off the computer. It will be five hours and I will be up again. I would normally say ‘roll on the weekend’ but, again, I will have so much to do I know I will not have the lie-in that I so want.

On the plus side, when Best Mate comes next week, now that she is sleeping like a normal person, I should be able to catch up with my sleep – if that is ever really possible!

I am very excited.

I am. I am almost unable to control myself with excitement. OK, maybe that’s just a little over the top.

The point is that I quite like the look of my blog. I adapted a theme, I like the colours, etc. [This was the old theme – not the current one you are looking at.]

I have upgraded WordPress (although not to the latest version) and it’s running OK. The big problem is that the theme (the way it looks) does not permit all the fabulous features of the newer versions. So, some things I see on others blogs but cannot have because I cannot have widgets.

To be honest, one day I will get around to modifying the theme to allow for widgets but, until that day happens, I have to look at others’ widgets and gasp in awe and amazement at how simply super they look.

And then there’s tags. I’m not sure when they came on the scene and they sort of passed me by for some time. Then I found a plugin (an addition in WordPress) and found that I could just place it into the page code rather than only have it as a widget! Whoa, yeah!

So now, on the side, a bit further down I have, what’s known as, a TAG CLOUD! Not only is it a tag cloud but it REVOLVES!!!!

Oh, happy day!

[p.s. now I DON’T have it :-D]

The weekend and other things

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This weekend was spent, mostly, working. My other job that is. To be honest the whole thing should have taken about 2 hours. It took most of Saturday because my websites’ hosters had to do things – but, obviously, only after I’d tried to fix it myself!

And still I can’t make it do what the customer really wants but on this one, other than a fiddly work-around, which really isn’t practical, it looks like there is no way to do it. Damn.

And then there were the accounts to do as Year End has just finished. I found that, in spite of thinking I had been keeping it pretty much up-to-date, I hadn’t. So it took me a little while. Damn again.

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