Holy ever lovin shit. I have never, NEVER seen DH as pissed as he was last night, 30 minutes AFTER hanging up the phone.
Our laptop you see. Not so much a laptop anymore. Its forgotten its purpose in life. It thinks it a paperweight that beeps. The video. Its gone. It gave up 4, yes 4 days after the warranty expired. Folks, this ain't right. The fix? A $400 dollar part. The laptop cost $600.
DH has been "talking" with HP (as much as one can hold a conversation with "Mike" from India) for a week straight now, trying to get something worked out with them. Cause seriously, if you're listening HP, 4 fucking days past the end of the warranty is BULL-SHIT. 4 days out of warranty makes me want to find Mr. HP, take my laptop, shove it up his ass and twist it.
Each phone call to HP requires 30 to 45 minutes of hold time. 20 minutes explaining the problem, 10 minutes of "please hold" time while whoever is on the other end jerks off, then a transfer of the call which inevitable ends with them hanging up on you. At which point, the entire process begins anew. For.a.week.now DH has been doing this.
FINALLY yesterday, he was told (by 2 different Customer Care Representatives) if we purchased a $99 HP Extended Service Plan, a part of their "award winning Total Care" protection package AND a $20 Software protection Service Plan we could extend our warranty have this fixed. HP LIES.
They have our $99 right now. The $20 was never processed because after being transferred to that Dept (and subsequently hung up on), DH was told that the promise of help was a BIG FAT BULL SHIT LIE. The $99 "Award Winning" Extented Service Plan....That does not cover parts, which again is over $400. Its a "phone service" plan.
A "Supervisor" is suppose to call DH today. We're not holding our breath, since we're still waiting for the promised call from a week ago. It will be another 2 hours of phone calls tonight.
Its funny, talking with just 5 people this past week, I've come across 3 who have had their HP laptop die within a month of the end of the warranty period. What does that say to the average life expectancy of the parts HP uses to build their products?
Between this issue and the whole Vongo debacle, I will never, EVER again purchase a Hewlett Packard product. Never. Ever. Never. I'm 30. I'm a techno-geek. I'm the head of the IT department at my employment and purchase all computer hardware. There will never be an HP product purchased again. That my folks is a LONG LINE of missed sales opportunities now. Sure, what difference can I make....Maybe not alone. But I doubt I'm alone out there. Folks, if HP has screwed you over, please leave a comment. I'm just about the #1 hit for "removing Vongo", I'd love to be the #1 hit for all Hewlett Packard complaints. One day they will have to listen.
HP likes to announce that "The Computer is Personal Again". So fucking much for their Customer Service.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Trick or Treat, Throw it away
When I was little, I had a favorite song. At first it was Wicked Dots. "Wicked Dots, Wicked Dots, Wicked Dots all over the ceiling".
I realized on my own that wasn't correct. Silly me. It was, of course, Wicked Ants.
Hey, I'm from MA, everyone says "Wicked", right?
I can not adequately describe the anger I felt when my father explained it was not Wicked Dots, nor was it Wicked Ants, but in fact it was "We Can Dance".
A la Men Without Hats, "The Safety Dance".
Now, my daughter, she has much better taste in music. Granted, she goes for the odd Elmo CD or 2 or 1,000. Given a choice though, right now she chooses "her" song, Trick or Treat, Throw it away
Amazing taste. It is currently one of my favorites.
Although, my lyrics are somewhat different.
I bleed it out,
Digging deeper just to throw it away.
I bleed it out,
Digging deeper just to throw it away.
I bleed it out,
Digging deeper just to throw it away,
Just to throw it away,
Just to throw it away.
-----Linkin Park "Bleed it Out"
I'll never tell her, though. Never correct her. We will forever sing the song together.
"Trick or Treating, I throw it away,
I give it out,
Trick or Treating, I throw it away...."
I realized on my own that wasn't correct. Silly me. It was, of course, Wicked Ants.
Hey, I'm from MA, everyone says "Wicked", right?
I can not adequately describe the anger I felt when my father explained it was not Wicked Dots, nor was it Wicked Ants, but in fact it was "We Can Dance".
A la Men Without Hats, "The Safety Dance".
Now, my daughter, she has much better taste in music. Granted, she goes for the odd Elmo CD or 2 or 1,000. Given a choice though, right now she chooses "her" song, Trick or Treat, Throw it away
Amazing taste. It is currently one of my favorites.
Although, my lyrics are somewhat different.
I bleed it out,
Digging deeper just to throw it away.
I bleed it out,
Digging deeper just to throw it away.
I bleed it out,
Digging deeper just to throw it away,
Just to throw it away,
Just to throw it away.
-----Linkin Park "Bleed it Out"
I'll never tell her, though. Never correct her. We will forever sing the song together.
"Trick or Treating, I throw it away,
I give it out,
Trick or Treating, I throw it away...."
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Yesterday
So let's see...
Ally woke up middle of night. Thankfully, she just wanted to pee and went back to sleep, but I still woke up and was pretty much up after that. Got up a little later and got a big jump on the day.
Later, DH gets Ally up, who proceeds to FLIP OUT that she "wants to go back nite-nights, wants her crib, no daddy no, I want to sleep". To the point that she keeps gagging because she has a cold and is all congested. I contemplated calling in because she was so upset, but she calmed down, at least a little, when I put Little Bear on.
We go to leave and she cracks her head on the car door. Screaming ensues again. More chocking and gagging.
Get almost to daycare when my cell phone rings. Its my sister. My sister has Wends off. She asks if I dropped Ally off yet. I say no. She asks if I talked to my mom yet. I say ya, this morning, why? She proceeds to FLIP OUT and all I can get through her hysterical crying is "dad" and "ambulance".
I spin the car around as fast as I can, and try calling my mom, as of right now, I have no idea what's going on. Of course at first I get the answering machine (which is my dad's voice) and start bawling thinking this is the last time I'll hear my dad's voice. I call work. Not sure if they understood what I told them, but I called in.
Tried my mom again. She answered hysterical and I just kept asking "Is dad breathing? Is dad breathing?" She's was doing nothing but crying. Thankfully by the 4th time I asked her she just yelled "He's not himself, he's incoherent, I can't understand what he's saying" then I hear her talking to the paramedic and she hangs up on me. Ok.....at least I know that dad's breathing. That's a start, I guess.
I call my sister back, all the while swearing at the traffic (trying, unsuccessfully not to freak Ally out). I want her to go over (she lives across the street) and see what the hell is going on, but she's useless with things like this. She's barely holding it together enough to feed her son breakfast.
I get to her house, right after the ambulance left. Thankfully her husband is a firefighter, and the Deputy brought him up to the call (even though a different station was the actual responders - the fire dept here is 1st response). So he lies to her and tells her Dad's not that bad. They think he's having a panic attack.
We pace around for a while when my mom FINALLY calls. A little back story. My dad, for almost 2 weeks now has been fighting the Norwalk Virus. On Monday, the Drs gave him a prescription for Compazine, apparently the worst drug ever made (go head and read the side effects. My dad had almost every one). The reaction basically looks like a person going through drug withdrawals. He was sweating profusely, gray, hallucinating, passing out, didn't know the day or at times who he was. His BP was through the roof.
They've got him on some medicine right now to get him through it. But they said its going to take a few days for the other med to get out of his system. What sucks is he can only take it every 6 hours and it wears out around 4 hours, and all the symptoms come back (hopefully each time a little less violently).
He said at one point last night, he looked up and saw stuffed animals hanging above him and couldn't figure out why my mom had hung them there. Then he realized that that wasn't right, they really weren't there, but he said that didn't make them go away.
BIL, later said he was pretty bad when he got there. He was on the floor, passing in and out, kind of convulsing. His BP was 180 over 100. Rambling on about weird things, covered in sweat. Not good.
Ally woke up middle of night. Thankfully, she just wanted to pee and went back to sleep, but I still woke up and was pretty much up after that. Got up a little later and got a big jump on the day.
Later, DH gets Ally up, who proceeds to FLIP OUT that she "wants to go back nite-nights, wants her crib, no daddy no, I want to sleep". To the point that she keeps gagging because she has a cold and is all congested. I contemplated calling in because she was so upset, but she calmed down, at least a little, when I put Little Bear on.
We go to leave and she cracks her head on the car door. Screaming ensues again. More chocking and gagging.
Get almost to daycare when my cell phone rings. Its my sister. My sister has Wends off. She asks if I dropped Ally off yet. I say no. She asks if I talked to my mom yet. I say ya, this morning, why? She proceeds to FLIP OUT and all I can get through her hysterical crying is "dad" and "ambulance".
I spin the car around as fast as I can, and try calling my mom, as of right now, I have no idea what's going on. Of course at first I get the answering machine (which is my dad's voice) and start bawling thinking this is the last time I'll hear my dad's voice. I call work. Not sure if they understood what I told them, but I called in.
Tried my mom again. She answered hysterical and I just kept asking "Is dad breathing? Is dad breathing?" She's was doing nothing but crying. Thankfully by the 4th time I asked her she just yelled "He's not himself, he's incoherent, I can't understand what he's saying" then I hear her talking to the paramedic and she hangs up on me. Ok.....at least I know that dad's breathing. That's a start, I guess.
I call my sister back, all the while swearing at the traffic (trying, unsuccessfully not to freak Ally out). I want her to go over (she lives across the street) and see what the hell is going on, but she's useless with things like this. She's barely holding it together enough to feed her son breakfast.
I get to her house, right after the ambulance left. Thankfully her husband is a firefighter, and the Deputy brought him up to the call (even though a different station was the actual responders - the fire dept here is 1st response). So he lies to her and tells her Dad's not that bad. They think he's having a panic attack.
We pace around for a while when my mom FINALLY calls. A little back story. My dad, for almost 2 weeks now has been fighting the Norwalk Virus. On Monday, the Drs gave him a prescription for Compazine, apparently the worst drug ever made (go head and read the side effects. My dad had almost every one). The reaction basically looks like a person going through drug withdrawals. He was sweating profusely, gray, hallucinating, passing out, didn't know the day or at times who he was. His BP was through the roof.
They've got him on some medicine right now to get him through it. But they said its going to take a few days for the other med to get out of his system. What sucks is he can only take it every 6 hours and it wears out around 4 hours, and all the symptoms come back (hopefully each time a little less violently).
He said at one point last night, he looked up and saw stuffed animals hanging above him and couldn't figure out why my mom had hung them there. Then he realized that that wasn't right, they really weren't there, but he said that didn't make them go away.
BIL, later said he was pretty bad when he got there. He was on the floor, passing in and out, kind of convulsing. His BP was 180 over 100. Rambling on about weird things, covered in sweat. Not good.
Monday, October 01, 2007
One month shy of 3
...and I'm already ready to run screaming from the house never to return.
Who is this person and what have they done with my daughter? I don't know if I'm gonna survive 3. If this is three, can I just skip over to 4?
I've been home for 1 hour. One.Hour. She's spent over 1/2 of that in her crib. I don't want to use her crib as a place of punishment, but what does one do when your child flees the corner and locks herself in the bathroom? Oh, how she's gotten good at locking doors.
I set a timer for 3 minutes. Go in and ask if she's ready to listen. Her response "NO! YOU LISTEN" So I leave. She screams.
3 more minutes "Are you ready to listen?" "NO"
3 more minutes....and on and on and on we've gone. She made it out of her crib once, at around the 20 minute mark. Apparently her sole burning desire was to get out of the crib and throw her sippy cup at me.
Heaven help me.
Of course now, now when I'm full of rage, trying to calm my every last nerve, she's sitting next to me (freed by her father), holding her blankie, and giving me kisses.
sigh....
Who is this person and what have they done with my daughter? I don't know if I'm gonna survive 3. If this is three, can I just skip over to 4?
I've been home for 1 hour. One.Hour. She's spent over 1/2 of that in her crib. I don't want to use her crib as a place of punishment, but what does one do when your child flees the corner and locks herself in the bathroom? Oh, how she's gotten good at locking doors.
I set a timer for 3 minutes. Go in and ask if she's ready to listen. Her response "NO! YOU LISTEN" So I leave. She screams.
3 more minutes "Are you ready to listen?" "NO"
3 more minutes....and on and on and on we've gone. She made it out of her crib once, at around the 20 minute mark. Apparently her sole burning desire was to get out of the crib and throw her sippy cup at me.
Heaven help me.
Of course now, now when I'm full of rage, trying to calm my every last nerve, she's sitting next to me (freed by her father), holding her blankie, and giving me kisses.
sigh....
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