Tuesday, September 11, 2012

At Least I Did Not Run Away Screaming, Or Middle School Technology Night, A Treatise On Why I Should Never Deal With Anything That Can Break, by Allison

So total miracle just occurred.  If you are a new reader to my TOTALLY IMPORTANT AND RELEVANT blog, you may ask, "Huh, what miracle? World peace? No hunger? Ozone now totally fine?"

However, if you have even spent two seconds dealing with me in word form or in person (and I am guessing also my future vengeful ghost will be this way too) ever, you probably realize No, nothing that is actual miracle occurred, is just Allison And Her Nonsense Not Causing Harm or Embarrassment To Herself Or Others.

This particular miracle (Note: I say it is miracle, so there. I know I need more evidence to send it to the Pope and get it officially miracle-ized, but consider it in this way, like, patent pending or such) just happened because I survived, without getting a poisonous rash, cutting off my hair in terrible and very unsuccessful attempt to look like famous Australian singer-actress, and most importantly, did NOT humiliate (Note: That I am aware of, I might find out I accidentally totally embarrassed V in some way later, but she did not do the immediate, "Ugggg, Mom" or "Really?" that I usually get from her when I go off the rails) my daughter V or Matt at Middle School Technology Night, which look, progress, I can even type the words Middle and School and not freak out!

But then, they have to go throw in the Technology thing. Seriously, is next week going to be Middle School Technology Plus Donate A Kidney And Fly To Mars And Also Do The Hard Math Stuff Night? Because I need to prepare, otherwise known as run far, far away. 

So Middle School Technology (See? I am getting better, right? A whole sentence without mentioning the trauma of my Poison Ivy Plus Bad Hair Add In The Being Taller Than Everyone Middle School beginnings) night happens because the new Middle Schoolers at V's most excellent middle school (which is attached to excellent lower school and I do not have direct evidence as I am VERY young, remember, but hear the upper school is awesome too) get laptops.


Like, handed out. Here you go, have a laptop, go solve world peace or build a robot.

Which they probably will do, as is awesome school plus fab kids. Again, Technology Night is totally great for the kids and informative for the parents, except for me.

I am pretty sure everybody else was either Totally Psyched Kid getting laptop and wanting to do robot stuff or at least pick cool background, or Responsible Parent paying attention to all the rules and the passwords and the codes and the Giant List Of How You Can Wreck It, which is when I decide, I am not touching that thing.

At all.

Ever ever.

I will break it, I know it. They even show us a video, which is actually quite clever, kind of a Law and Order setup of kids being informed how many ways they can and should not mess up their laptops. Kids and responsible parents all absorbing this information, rules on usage and passwords and such.

Me?

Not doing that at all. Am leaning over to Matt and V and saying "I am not touching that thing. Ever. It is all on you guys. I will break it, you know I will, or it may catch poison ivy or something. Do not let me near it."

And while that may appear to be totally selfish and unhelpful Allison,  it is actually Benevolent Allison, Trust Me.

I break stuff routinely, and if it a thing that is more technologically advanced than the wheel (Note: Which by the way I broke today trying to leave my house) I am totally going to wreck it. So many cell phones that I ridiculously sit in my lap while driving for no reason that makes any sense and then get out of car, dropping phone on ground and breaking it, and TWICE dropping it into giant puddle and frying and then breaking it.

It even sizzled once.

I recently somehow broke my alarm clock (Note: Not Matt's Alarm Clock Of Never Ending Doom, otherwise known as, Matt sets his alarm for 3:57 am, I am not kidding, so he can drink coffee and run before going to the hospital, otherwise known as drive me to lunatic asylum, and then hits snooze eleventy times, each time with me saying "MATT YOUR ALARM CLOCK IS GOING OFF AND IT IS PLAYING POLKA MUSIC I AM GOING TO STAB YOU")
was my alarm clock, that I never ever use, because if I am not up in the middle of the night contemplating which blunt object to hit Matt with due to his severe alarm clock mismanagement, I am jolted awake by E, my middle daughter, two inches from my face, with the weather report.

Because she is an eighty year old man.
No, she is actually a 9 year old girl who is up early (her alarm clock works, I now am thinking I should go break it) so she can begin the Tense And Constant And Forever Debate On Can She Wear Shorts Or E's Many Reasons  Why She Does Not Need To Wear A Coat.  Is awful. And happens every day. She is like a Fashion Debate Rooster. (Is that a thing? If not, I am totally trademarking it and making it a thing)

I have NO idea how I broke my actual alarm clock that is only used to tell time, but somehow it started only doing a weird countdown of an hour, over and over again, it was possessed by somebody else's vengeful ghost, which, thanks ghost for giving me tips on what to do when I am vengeful ghost, but not cool about the alarm clock.

And am now on Fifth Kindle. And it taunts me, when I go to order a book (is MAGIC I pull out reviews and then type in book and it is MAGICALLY there immediately, this is best invention ever, I declare it so, and I am Decider on these and all matters so it is so) the screen is all "Allison's Fifth Kindle."

Which?

Stop rubbing it in, Kindle.

I know I broke your comrades in various ways, you don't have to make me feel even worse about it. Sorry, Kindle Number One! I did not know spilling Trenta Sized Green Tea on you would kill you.

Apologies, Kindle Number Two, did not realize knocking you to the ground while blow drying my hair upside down and reading at same time would kill you.

Oops, Kindle Number Three, it appears I did not learn my lesson about the tea.

And Kindle Four, at least you get the best story: I broke you while crying on you. Not crying because you broke, but by crying at sad book you contained. I cried so copiously that I fried you.

On the monorail going to Disney World.

Which I realize makes me Lunatic Allison who not only reads at Disney World (which in my defense, we were in transit to Magic Kingdom, the girls did not need me to tie anything or feed them or save them from tigers) but reads at Disney World to the point of crying so effusively she breaks her Kindle.

I think I should get an award for that.

Like, two free Kindles or something.
 (Note: the book I was reading is one I have blogged about, The Fault In Our Stars, and it is beautiful and wonderful and go read it right now, I mean, after you finish reading all my blog posts because they are VERY IMPORTANT AND RELEVANT, but is fantastic book, do not let the sad scare you, is awesome)

So since I cannot manage Kindles, and I will not even go into the iPod thing, because honestly I still do not understand what happened to two of them, they just rebelled, they were all "Must she constantly download indie bands and then force her household to listen to her Lessons On Music?" or "Uh uh. Death Cab For Cutie? How about Death Cab for iPod."

And sometimes they charge into charger thing, sometimes they don't.

They are moody, is all.

So clearly, my extremely coherent and succinct musings on how I break stuff
(Note: And am also sparing you from The Great Air Conditioner Leakage Of 1995, it is still too soon for me to go into that whole thing, all you need to know is I lost about one majillion bootlegs, mix tapes, all my music, WAS TRAGEDY.) is leading up to this: I am not touching V's laptop.

I may not even allow myself to be in same room with it. It will totally do something to me like make me trip and spill my tea, or I will get all emotional about how V used to be tiny big eyed baby and now is cool tween daughter with laptop and sob and cry all over it and she will kill me because she will have to tell them at school that her mom broke her laptop crying on it, and they may not know me well enough by then to realize that is the kind of stuff I regularly do.

And will not want to hear how V's laptop fried because I was blow drying my hair upside down for volume while reading so it was perched on ledge of sink and then the thing I am reading or whatever got sad and I cried on it and oops I drove over it too, plus I swear, I thought it was Matt's alarm clock and had to throw it out of the window.

Middle School Technology Experts, you can thank me now. I accept checks, compliments, adjectives that are positive or at least clever, please don't make me build a robot.