Thank you Phillip

I would not be blogging were it not for my wonderfully generous Administrator, the wizard, my guru, and the blogger known as Sitenoise, and my friend Phillip. He has taught me everything I know about the "intertubes" (thank you Ted Stevens for that tube explanation for the internet). But more importantly he's the handyman I've always dreamed of. I always thought if a man can't fix it (whatever "it" is) he's not worth knowing. I know this is chauvinist, but I'm old and came of age in the moments before the modern women's movement got going. I can do a lot of things, but I can't fix my plumbing, rewire anything, or wield a chainsaw. Yet--I have hopes that before I die I will be able to wield a chainsaw, and better yet, own my own. Neither can I find my photos when my Iphoto application tells me that yes, seconds ago I had over 800 photos, but now I have none.

Shock of almost any sort makes my brain go whaky. Kind of like Sarah Palin has become "a whack job" to aids in the McInsane/Impailin campaign, my brain became a whack job yesterday when all my photos disappeared in an instant. I figured Phillip was probably having a lovely Friday evening, and so, when I composed my email to him, I tried to keep the panic and desperation out of my voice. I am trying to learn not to scream at men in my email, as I have alienated one good friend and come close to it with Phillip. Swearing in all caps, bold and italics, does not endear me to my men friends--all three of them. So, as the evening wore on, my brain got slower and slower heading for complete shut-down. By 11:00 I was so stupid I was trying to watch a Bond movie on On Demand. It was droning on--explosions and car chases, and lovely damsels in distress was all I could discern and it was oddly unexciting. It was probably during this portion of the evening when Phillip tried to contact me. I couldn't hear anything but the cottony crash and bang of the movie, so missed him last night. But even if I had heard the ring of the voice chat thingy, I wouldn't have been able to talk coherently. That is what the sudden onset of depression does to me. It's almost as if I can hear the circuits fizzing out and the whole mechanism slowly grinding to a halt with a dull and fuzzy sound that ends in nothing.

This morning, around noon, after I'd had one cup of coffee, Phillip called. I didn't time him, but within a few minutes he had restored my photos. Then he restored my flock application and with that taught me how to put my favorite, daily reads on RSS feed. What a man. So, thank you Phillip. It's so nice to know a handy man. I owe you cookies darling--chocolate chip or peanut butter?