future calling
Hmm. So just to catch up to date, Monday night after Candy I came home to discover the Telstra technician had been and left a note saying the phone line to the block was fine so the problem was either in my studio or with my equipment.
And, y'know, I knew, I knew instantly that it would be within the walls, somewhere I couldn't fix. I just knew. Spent one terrible night of anguish, made all the more ironic cos I had just watched Abbie and Heath go through withdrawal, then on Tuesday made that NFA post, made several excruciatingly expensive phone calls on my mobile and realised I had no option but to forfeit the next day's pay so I could get this freaking phone line thing sorted. Second week in a row I had to take a day off, second week in a row I'd get paid less than a decent amount but I had no option. Five days without the Internet. I was ready to engage in widespread homicide.
I was right. On Wednesday, the Telstra technician discovered the fault's in the phone cable nine feet from the wall outlet, nine feet down the outside of the goddamn building. And I had already established with the rental agency that the body corporate isn't obliged to provide a working phone line to the studio cos there's a payphone in the lobby. So there went my last hope. I said "I knew it!" The Telstra dude said jokingly, "What, are you psychic?" And I said with perfect sobriety, "Actually, yes I am." And he said, still trying to joke, "Well, can you tell me if I have a future?" And because I crashed in the few intervening seconds, I said with perfect despair "Probably not."
When I'm Dictator of the Multiverse, every house will be equipped with a phone line or working Internet connection, whether you want it or not. No one shall ever go unconnected again!
I was pretty much defeated by the time the Telstra dude left and I'm fairly certain he felt so sorry for me that he didn't charge me anything. Were the world any crueller than it already is, I probably would have been charged for him unscrewing the outlet and running his lil tests. As it was, I must have looked as wretched as I felt. Really was on the verge of tears. More expensive phone calls while I tried to get my non-existent Telstra connection disconnected and quite sure they'd charge me a connection fee anyway. Fucking arsehole monopolist bastards. I must have alarmed the Aunt just as much as I moved the Telstra dude cos she took my details and called Telstra and made sure they cancelled the service with no charge.
Since I was home for the day, also got the electrician to come fix the smoke alarm. Here's the irony: it's now a legal requirement for every rental property to be equipped with a working smoke alarm. And I so did not care. I'd rather burn down than not have an Internet connection. So I was totally lacklustre when the dude did turn up and drilled holes in my ceiling and scattered white dust over everything including the dark carpet. I sat on my bed and read my Feng Shui For Dummies while he installed a new smoke alarm and tried to argue with me that Feng Shui was a whole lot of hooey.
By the time he left, he admitted there was actually something to the Feng Shui hooey. And in another coincidence that ceases to amaze me, he knows someone who works in the Children's Court which is in the same building as one of the judicial institutions I service, actually the one I serviced today.
Two minutes after he left, I had changed and packed up my laptop and was on my way to Broadway to get Unwired. Two hours later, I was online and all was right with my world again. God, the relief, the quiet presence, the pure bliss.
Wireless is so weird, though. I'm kinda getting used to it now but yesterday I kept thinking "okay, now I have to watch how long I stay online, my time's not unlimited anymore." But wait, my time is unlimited, it's my download that's not. And I'll be buggered if I know what my average download is so I've started off with 300MB and upgrade as needs be.
I was totally paranoid about the reception, quite sure that maybe the building's walls were too thick and old or that Annandale was in a grey spot of coverage or something. As it was, when I hooked up, the connection wizard shrieked that I had low or limited connectivity. But hey, with the modem on an angle on my bedside table and aren't I lucky that my bed is right next to the window, I've got three bars or more of frequency and once I'm on, I'm on.
I could really grow to love this wireless thing. No dizzying amount of phone calls to monitor, no hogging of the line to worry about, no erosion of line to fear. I Don't Actually Need A Phone Line. That's kinda spinning me out. Liek woah, dri, welcome to the twenty-first century.
I feel like Toula's dad: "Now, y'know, wireless Internet is Aquarian. Cos the Internet, it come from the Aquarian thing of freedom of expression and exchange of information. And the wireless, well, you know, the Aquarius mean radio waves so Aquarius is radio waves is frequency is wireless, there y'go!"
Oh god. I'm a little fat balding Greek man with a tendency to histrionics. I wonder if he's met the gay slut boy in me yet. What a scene that'll be. "Madonna, Madonna, Madonna! Why you want to leaaaaave meeeeee?"
And, y'know, I knew, I knew instantly that it would be within the walls, somewhere I couldn't fix. I just knew. Spent one terrible night of anguish, made all the more ironic cos I had just watched Abbie and Heath go through withdrawal, then on Tuesday made that NFA post, made several excruciatingly expensive phone calls on my mobile and realised I had no option but to forfeit the next day's pay so I could get this freaking phone line thing sorted. Second week in a row I had to take a day off, second week in a row I'd get paid less than a decent amount but I had no option. Five days without the Internet. I was ready to engage in widespread homicide.
I was right. On Wednesday, the Telstra technician discovered the fault's in the phone cable nine feet from the wall outlet, nine feet down the outside of the goddamn building. And I had already established with the rental agency that the body corporate isn't obliged to provide a working phone line to the studio cos there's a payphone in the lobby. So there went my last hope. I said "I knew it!" The Telstra dude said jokingly, "What, are you psychic?" And I said with perfect sobriety, "Actually, yes I am." And he said, still trying to joke, "Well, can you tell me if I have a future?" And because I crashed in the few intervening seconds, I said with perfect despair "Probably not."
When I'm Dictator of the Multiverse, every house will be equipped with a phone line or working Internet connection, whether you want it or not. No one shall ever go unconnected again!
I was pretty much defeated by the time the Telstra dude left and I'm fairly certain he felt so sorry for me that he didn't charge me anything. Were the world any crueller than it already is, I probably would have been charged for him unscrewing the outlet and running his lil tests. As it was, I must have looked as wretched as I felt. Really was on the verge of tears. More expensive phone calls while I tried to get my non-existent Telstra connection disconnected and quite sure they'd charge me a connection fee anyway. Fucking arsehole monopolist bastards. I must have alarmed the Aunt just as much as I moved the Telstra dude cos she took my details and called Telstra and made sure they cancelled the service with no charge.
Since I was home for the day, also got the electrician to come fix the smoke alarm. Here's the irony: it's now a legal requirement for every rental property to be equipped with a working smoke alarm. And I so did not care. I'd rather burn down than not have an Internet connection. So I was totally lacklustre when the dude did turn up and drilled holes in my ceiling and scattered white dust over everything including the dark carpet. I sat on my bed and read my Feng Shui For Dummies while he installed a new smoke alarm and tried to argue with me that Feng Shui was a whole lot of hooey.
By the time he left, he admitted there was actually something to the Feng Shui hooey. And in another coincidence that ceases to amaze me, he knows someone who works in the Children's Court which is in the same building as one of the judicial institutions I service, actually the one I serviced today.
Two minutes after he left, I had changed and packed up my laptop and was on my way to Broadway to get Unwired. Two hours later, I was online and all was right with my world again. God, the relief, the quiet presence, the pure bliss.
Wireless is so weird, though. I'm kinda getting used to it now but yesterday I kept thinking "okay, now I have to watch how long I stay online, my time's not unlimited anymore." But wait, my time is unlimited, it's my download that's not. And I'll be buggered if I know what my average download is so I've started off with 300MB and upgrade as needs be.
I was totally paranoid about the reception, quite sure that maybe the building's walls were too thick and old or that Annandale was in a grey spot of coverage or something. As it was, when I hooked up, the connection wizard shrieked that I had low or limited connectivity. But hey, with the modem on an angle on my bedside table and aren't I lucky that my bed is right next to the window, I've got three bars or more of frequency and once I'm on, I'm on.
I could really grow to love this wireless thing. No dizzying amount of phone calls to monitor, no hogging of the line to worry about, no erosion of line to fear. I Don't Actually Need A Phone Line. That's kinda spinning me out. Liek woah, dri, welcome to the twenty-first century.
I feel like Toula's dad: "Now, y'know, wireless Internet is Aquarian. Cos the Internet, it come from the Aquarian thing of freedom of expression and exchange of information. And the wireless, well, you know, the Aquarius mean radio waves so Aquarius is radio waves is frequency is wireless, there y'go!"
Oh god. I'm a little fat balding Greek man with a tendency to histrionics. I wonder if he's met the gay slut boy in me yet. What a scene that'll be. "Madonna, Madonna, Madonna! Why you want to leaaaaave meeeeee?"