Thoroughly Modern Debbie

There are many aspects of Modern Life that I appreciate.  Horses are allergic to me (yes, you read that correctly, story told upon request), so automobiles are a big plus; although, admittedly, I am Not The World's Best Driver.  I pass out easily, so I am also not a fan of corsets (except for "Important Meetings" *blush*) so  kudos to the Modern Undergarment Industry for supporting our girls without crushing our ribs. 

But the whole "computer" thing makes me feel like a Debbie McDimwit.  I know the basics, I can push the "on" button (such things they got now), and type, because I learned that in Secretarial School in 1875 on a (no shit) manual Remington Typewriter,  and I know how to "controlaltdelete" when I panic, and I can surf porn.  But that's about it.  I was sent to Corporate HQ once in North Carolina for some in-house training, which included Excel.  Everyone else in the class was Keeping Up With Teacher just fine, but I was always 5 steps behind and at one point, became so flustered that I pressed a combination of keys that turned my screen upside down.  Of course, I couldn't figure out how to rightside up it again, so the Russian IT guy had to come down and fix it.  I was slightly vindicated that it took Vlad 15 minutes to figure out how to do it.  

I fare no better with electronics.  "'Downloading" music to an "MP3" player sounds as impossible to me as "fixing the economy" does to everyone else.  There are days I pine for the 8-track.  (Admittedly, they are not usually good days.)  I have broken so many vaccum cleaners that I've just given up the whole process: it's hard wood floors and a broom for me, baby!  (I know the More Cynical of You will be saying, "Does she really think a vaccum cleaner counts as electronics??", and the answer is, Yes, I do.  Because you plug it into a wall.  That's my definition of electronics and this is my blog, so if you don't like it, I'm sure Michele Bachman has a perfectly nice blog on hating homosexuals you can move to.)  When I was five I pulled a console television set on top of myself. (I was a Willful Child)  I was slightly bruised but I killed the damn 570-pound TV.  In my last apartment, I had a ceramic heater whose plug actually melted.  Now, that might have been caused by the 250-year-old wiring of the house, but it also could have been my very presence!! If they had sent me over to the Soviet Union during the Cold War, I probably would have walked by the control panel, tripped (in addition to fainting a lot, I also fall a lot) and landed on the Big Red Button.

I also prefer my prostitution Old School, but I don't think I'll go into that right now.  I  mean, I won't talk about it right now, as opposed to entering the profession right now, but I don't actually plan to do that either, ahhhhh, see, it's these damn computers!!!!!!!