BT Sucks - and why can't we use lovely paper any more?
Salaam and good morning to you, worthy friends.
Well, BT sucks. It's official. My Gran's phone got cut off. This was a bit of a major panic as her Panic Alarm is linked to her phone line. Don't blame BT for cutting the line off - Gran's a bit senile these days and had been squirreling bills away, for some reason she couldn't quite explain. No matter.
Mum and Dad are in Boston just now, enjoying all kinds of seafood, so I'm the Responsible Adult for Gran. You wouldn't think that paying a bill and getting a phone reconnected in today's world of telecommunications would be a problem, would you? Well, paying the bill wasn't (surprise) but getting confirmation that my Gran's phone was reconnected was. 118 500 couldn't tell me how to get to an operator through my mobile, my mobile company told me 118 500 were the people to call. Ack! Pth! It took about two hours to finally get through to a person instead of an automated system! Grrrr.
Anyway, all sorted now, so if Gran falls or sets fire to something, she can hit her panic alarm. That's if she remembers it's there. *sigh*. And, not to leave this part of today's tale on a downer - I finally, after the two hours of phone calls, realised that there was a very simple way to find out if Gran's phone was back on. Phoning it. Yes, I know. I'm a moron - but I was harassed!
...
And why can't we use lovely paper any more?
I'm reading The Book of Loss by Julith Jedamus at the moment. It's set in 10th century Japan and focuses on a group of ladies in waiting to the Empress and their amorous adventures. One of them tells of how she wrote to an estranged lover four times. Once, on vermillion paper, with bold strokes. Once, on the thinnest of rice paper with the lightest of strokes - almost unreadable. Once, on an anise leaf, to commemorate a tryst in the woods. And once on plain white, solid and scrappily written - quickly and without edit, as she worried she'd lost her nerve if she re-wrote it.
It struck me, as it always does (everyone's heard of the Pillow Book, right) that this is such a deep way to communicate with people. As well as the written characters, how they're formed and what they say; the material on which they're written speaks volumes, too.
And what do I get? Gaydar instant messages. Feh.
Have a good one,
C
Well, BT sucks. It's official. My Gran's phone got cut off. This was a bit of a major panic as her Panic Alarm is linked to her phone line. Don't blame BT for cutting the line off - Gran's a bit senile these days and had been squirreling bills away, for some reason she couldn't quite explain. No matter.
Mum and Dad are in Boston just now, enjoying all kinds of seafood, so I'm the Responsible Adult for Gran. You wouldn't think that paying a bill and getting a phone reconnected in today's world of telecommunications would be a problem, would you? Well, paying the bill wasn't (surprise) but getting confirmation that my Gran's phone was reconnected was. 118 500 couldn't tell me how to get to an operator through my mobile, my mobile company told me 118 500 were the people to call. Ack! Pth! It took about two hours to finally get through to a person instead of an automated system! Grrrr.
Anyway, all sorted now, so if Gran falls or sets fire to something, she can hit her panic alarm. That's if she remembers it's there. *sigh*. And, not to leave this part of today's tale on a downer - I finally, after the two hours of phone calls, realised that there was a very simple way to find out if Gran's phone was back on. Phoning it. Yes, I know. I'm a moron - but I was harassed!
...
And why can't we use lovely paper any more?
I'm reading The Book of Loss by Julith Jedamus at the moment. It's set in 10th century Japan and focuses on a group of ladies in waiting to the Empress and their amorous adventures. One of them tells of how she wrote to an estranged lover four times. Once, on vermillion paper, with bold strokes. Once, on the thinnest of rice paper with the lightest of strokes - almost unreadable. Once, on an anise leaf, to commemorate a tryst in the woods. And once on plain white, solid and scrappily written - quickly and without edit, as she worried she'd lost her nerve if she re-wrote it.
It struck me, as it always does (everyone's heard of the Pillow Book, right) that this is such a deep way to communicate with people. As well as the written characters, how they're formed and what they say; the material on which they're written speaks volumes, too.
And what do I get? Gaydar instant messages. Feh.
Have a good one,
C
posted by Chris at 10:35 am
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