Laptop woes

Once again, writing from my family's slow desktop computer. Although it seems to be working a little better now, thanks to my cousin April.

This week, my package with the new charger for my laptop finally arrived. It was one of the slowest Amazon packages I've ever had--both because it seemed slow and because it actually was slow. (I make good use of Amazon's "spend $35 and get free shipping," buying things I want but wouldn't otherwise buy. This time, the supplementary purchase was the complete series of Get Smart, which was on sale. Don't make fun of me.)

I was disappointed with the new charger, because it was obviously inferior. It was a three-prong plug instead of two-prong, and it was significantly shorter. But that wasn't the real problem. When I went to plug it in, I realized that not only was my original charger broken, the place where I plug it in on the laptop itself was broken as well.

So I made two trips out to Best Buy this week. The first guy said he might be able to look at it and guessed it might be around sixty dollars to fix it. The next day, I decided that was worth it, so I went back; but I talked to a different guy, who seemed more experienced, and he said he thought the replacement part would be more like $120 to $150.

I got this laptop for Christmas in 2012, so I think I'm just going to get a new one. Of all the computers in our house, it was the best one. We have the virus-riddled desktop computer from 2009. We have a tablet-sized pink laptop my dad got used in 2011. And there's a lemon of a laptop from 2013. My 2012 Toshiba Satellite was the best of all of them.

In fact, I think I may very well get another Toshiba, just a newer model. I wanted to see if I could get one that used the same battery so that I could charge the battery on the new computer and thereby get files from my old one. A Google search led me to believe that laptops using that battery are now obsolete. Fortunately, most of my important files are on the cloud--work documents on Dropbox, music on Google Play, pictures on Picasa Web/Google +. Most of what is on my computer is old homework.

Consumer Reports says that Toshibas require some of the least amount of repairing. And they're affordably priced. They may not be perfect, but they suit my purposes just fine. The only problem I had with mine was a year ago, when my touchpad decided not to work for a few months. It was a software problem--when I started the computer, the touchpad would work fine, but after a few seconds it would stop, as if the computer was like, "Oh yeah. I forgot that I decided not to work anymore." I tried everything to fix it. But after a few months, it mysteriously fixed itself. I think that's the only major problem I had with it in a year and a half of college and a year of working. My requirements are that my laptop must have a CD drive (I still buy CDs), and it must have a number pad (it makes it fifty times easier to type foreign letters, although I don't do much foreign typing anymore).

I'm not a Mac person, so that's out of the question. There are some things I like about Macs. I love their Help feature; I think it's much better than Windows in that regard. But I absolutely hate switching between programs. It's like I have a cluttered desk that is impossible to organize in a satisfactory manner. And Macs are more expensive. Why would I pay extra to have a cluttered desktop?

I think most computers now have Windows 8.1, but I've heard that Windows 10 will have a free upgrade for those on older versions. Seriously, nobody likes Windows 8.

I hope to get a new laptop soon. I'm tired of using my phone and slow computers.

Don't kiss me, I'm not Irish.

Normally, I write my blog on my laptop, but my laptop charger is broken, and the new one I ordered hasn't arrived yet. Therefore, I am writing this on my family's desktop computer, which I try to avoid, because it is slow and is apparently infected with numerous viruses. Once I tried to uninstall some of the problem programs, but when I did, I got a popup saying to solve an equation before I uninstalled them, which seemed very fishy to me.

Anyway, it was St. Patrick's Day this week. I keep flip-flopping between whether St. Patrick's Day or Valentine's Day is my least favorite holiday (at least of the holidays I formally celebrate). Currently Valentine's Day is my least favorite. St. Patrick's Day is funner, and green is better than pink, but it is a rather pointless holiday, especially since I'm not Irish. I have a few Irish drops in the genealogical bucket, but I'm overwhelmingly of English and Scottish descent.

I got to wear two outfits for the holiday. To work, I wore green pants, green glasses, a shamrock tie, a white shirt, and an orange belt. My boss called me up to his office (usually he doesn't do that--he just talks to me on the phone) and he was very impressed with what I was wearing. I wondered if it was too silly and informal, but when the managing director of the department likes what you're wearing, you're probably safe. That night, I went to institute in green shoes and a t-shirt, but I didn't get as many compliments, since that outfit wasn't as good. Then I watched The Leprechauns' Christmas Gold. Yes, really.

Yesterday I was asked to spend a few hours at the Bountiful Family History Center in case anyone came in needing help. While I was there, I wanted to see how far back I could find my ancestry. I found it all the way back to Adam. Of course, I don't buy that line, and there are numerous problems--not least of which is that many of the years are out of sequence, and I found one Norse ancestor who was supposedly married to someone two hundred years younger than him. And one record literally says, "About four generations of Goths."

But this week I was able to learn (through research at work, not through family history) about one of my real ancestors, Frederick Kesler. He helped establish many mills in Brigham City (originally called Box Elder), and as Bishop of the Salt Lake 16th Ward, he helped make sure that families had food during the famine of 1856, since a drought and swarms of grasshoppers in 1855 created a food shortage. I'm excited this summer to do a trial run of formally celebrating Pioneer Day, since that day actually is relevant to me, unlike St. Patrick's Day.

Also this week, spring brought me such a nice surprise, as there were blossoms on our apricot tree; but unfortunately, only some of the branches had blossoms, so we probably won't have a very big apricot harvest this summer. Oh well. We usually have more than we know what to do with anyway.

My friends Willie, Martin, and Julia Ann

This week was my first week with my new position. Which is the same as my old position.

But my official job title went from being "Paid Intern" to "Researcher." I'm quite surprised that's my job title. It's accurate, at least for now, but my years at college didn't train me to be a researcher but an editor. A lot of students get jobs as research assistants, but I never had such a job. I did some source checking for BYU Studies, but that's about all the research I did outside of class assignments. (Sometimes I feel bad I wasn't an RA or a TA, but then I realize having an internship with BYU Studies, one of the foremost scholarly journals on Mormonism, was a pretty nice experience.)

Despite my lack of formal training, I really like what I'm doing. I get to research a lot of things, including things I've never heard of, and some things are even things that most historians haven't heard.

One story I got to research this week I found fascinating, and though most (or many) Mormon scholars know about it, the general population doesn't. In 1855, twenty-eight Saints, with about as many others, traveling from Australia on board the Julia Ann were shipwrecked when the ship ran into a coral reef west of the Society Islands. Five people drowned, and the rest had to live on a small island for two months, eating turtles and coconuts.

Years ago, I caught an episode of the documentary series I Shouldn't Be Alive in which a family got stranded after hitting a coral reef. As I was reading the story of the Julia Ann, I kept thinking of that episode and the teenager yelling "Reef! Reef!" And then, it turns out, that family was stranded at the exact same atoll that the Julia Ann was! If there was a TV episode about that family, and there are multiple stories about the Willie and Martin handcart companies, I'm surprised the Julia Ann story isn't more popular, especially since everyone seems to enjoy accounts of people being marooned. (That night I had a dream featuring characters from Gilligan's Island.) I think it would be a great movie.

Speaking of the handcart companies, that's another topic I began researching this week, and I will continue it this coming week. We tend to romanticize the Willie and Martin story in Mormondom, but it really was a tragic event, with multiple unfortunate, and unwise, decisions being made. I'm excited to read more about it.

While indexing this week, an unusual news story from 1999 was attached to one of my batches. I had to verify that it wasn't from a fake news publication (you know, the kind that people start sharing on Facebook). But it actually happened!

"A British woman who blew up like a giant balloon when she accidentally fell on a helium gas nozzle was forced to wait two weeks while her body slowly deflated."

That truth is stranger than the fiction dreams I had this week, which included finding an Egyptian mummy in our backyard, having a conversation with Justin Bieber, and sucking the blood out of a raw package of corned beef. (It tasted like Otter Pop, but after I did it I realized how disgusting that was.)

Rants

Can I go on a few rants here?

I get really sick of people feeling entitled. Now, I think everyone has some sense of entitlement. For example, if I'm at a party that has seasonal desserts, I feel entitled to eat more of them than other people, since they're some of the few things I will eat. But I try not to be overly entitled. It drives me crazy when I see other people with the mentality.

Perhaps the worst place I see it is driving. When I drive, I try to follow the speed limit. And in following the speed limit, I feel like an old granny on the road, because everyone feels entitled not to drive the speed limit. The speed limit is the maximum you're supposed to go, but people treat it like it's the minimum. We all went to get where we're going faster. Why do you think you deserve to get there faster than other people? These speeders make driving a dangerous thing. Speed limits are set up for safety, as there might be pedestrians, cars turning, and other factors. Thus it is dangerous to speed. But the speeders make it dangerous not to speed, what with their following close and not being able to slow down fast enough in an emergency.

If you are one of those drivers, repent! Quit being a jerk, because that's what you are, at least when it comes to driving.

On a few occasions, I have had experiences with such jerk drivers that they try to illegally pass me. Once, a lane was ending, and another driver sped up to pass me right as the lane was ending, so that I had to slam on my brakes in order not to get an accident. I hope that these drivers crash--not into anyone else, unless the other person is also a jerk. And I don't want them to get any serious injuries. Just a crash to shake them up and put them into debt from repairs and citations, enough that it ruins their next Christmas or two. (I thought it would be going too far to wish for glass to get into their eyes and blind them.)

Also, use your blinkers! If you don't use your blinker, you are (1) a jerk, (2) a terrible driver, or (3) an unintelligent person. (If, on the other hand, you leave your blinker on a long time, you are (1) old. Not all old people leave their blinkers on, but all people who leave their blinkers on are old.) People who don't use their blinkers (and I'm talking regularly, not an occasional forgetful moment) should have their licenses revoked. Now, you may say, "Should that really merit having a license revoked? It seems like a small thing." But that's just it. It is a small thing. If you are incapable of turning your blinker on, how can you possibly be capable of checking your blind spot, looking both directions, and applying the brakes?

Another way where people feel entitled is with their dogs. As I go running, especially on trails, I pass numerous signs telling people to clean up after their dogs and to keep them on a leash. But people disregard both those things! People who don't clean up after their dogs should not be allowed to own them. Like, if they get caught, they should have their dog taken away. As far as not keeping dogs on a leash, you may know that your dog is not going to chase or bite other people, but I don't know that. I'm afraid of dogs, so seeing a loose dog makes me anxious and makes me change my behavior, since I can't trust them. And usually your dog isn't as well behaved as you think it is. I used to see a man on Bountiful Boulevard with two dogs not on a leash, but they would stay right next to him, and as I ran past, I don't think the dogs even looked at me. If all dogs were that well behaved, I would have no problem with them not being on a leash. But they're not all that good. Don't feel entitled.

(I was really angry when I saw traces of a horse on the Wild Rose Trail, when there are signs forbidding horses. Not "clean up after your horse," but "No horses.")

And while I'm ranting about things, I want to rant about this antiquated system of Daylight Savings Time. It's moronic. There is talk about getting rid of this idiotic practice in Utah, which is good; but one proposition is to keep us on permanent DST, which is stupid. That would mean that we would sometimes be in the same time as Chicago and Nashville; we would sometimes be two hours off from Nevada; and we would never be the same as Arizona. Just plain dumb. I think their rationale is that the extra evening daylight would be good for recreation. I like evening recreation as much as anyone, but that seems like a dumb reason for DST. We should do exactly what Arizona is doing and be done with it. There may be benefits for extra light in the evening, but they don't outweigh the detriments of universally disrupting sleep patterns, changing clocks, dark mornings, and a host of other problems. Individual people and businesses should have the option to change their schedules based on the season, rather than forcing everyone to change at once.

Sorry for my negativity.

Six months later

February is over now, and February marked six months since I left Provo, moved home, and began working on site in the Church History Library.

Six months is half a year!

I've liked living up in North Salt Lake more than I expected. I was sad to leave Provo with its close-knit wards, Rock Canyon, and Rooftop Concerts. But six months later, I don't really miss it that much.

While running to Rock Canyon was spectacular, there are plenty of enjoyable trails near my house. And when I run on the Bonneville Shoreline Trail (usually in the evening when it's getting dark, since that unshaded trail stays light for longer), I can see the Salt Lake Temple (which I also see at work every day) and get a beautiful view of the valley.

And paradoxically, I think my current ward is closer than any Provo ward I had. I loved my last Provo ward, especially the bishopric--Bishop Taylor, Brother Jensen, and the various young married second counselors they had. But I love my current bishopric too (although perhaps not as much as the last one--sorry, guys). I think the North Park ward is more cohesive, despite the fact that we don't live on top of each other. Not only are we more spread apart, we are more diverse. There are college grads, like me, of various ages and from different schools. There are those who are currently in school, at the U, SLCC, LDSBC, and even Weber. And there are those who haven't done any school after high school. And the ward list actually includes inactive people. Thus we are widely ranging in terms of age and intelligence. (Really. There are some very intelligent people in my ward, but others are not so smart.) But somehow we are closer.

And I sometimes missed living on my own with roommates. But it's been nice to spend time with my family again. Also, many of my roommates decided they were too cool for the rest of us, so I don't have to deal with those jerks.

When I moved back to NSL, I didn't know how long I would have my job. I was informed that I would be able to work until November, but then I would meet all the hours I could have. Then I was told I could work through the end of 2014, but then I was on my own. And then I was allowed to work until my internship hit a year on February 28. Now my internship status is over, but I still get to work at the same job for six more months. Who knows what will happen then?

On an unrelated note, this morning I found that my top sheet was on top of my quilt, with my quilt next to my body. And not only that, the top of the sheet was at the foot of the bed!