Captcha

"Captcha--a type of challenge-response test used in computing as an attempt to ensure that the response is generated by a person."  Or, in people speak terms, those two annoying words you have to type in to make sure you are you and not a computer.  Sad really, because I would love to read the comment a computer would leave on my blog.  Something quite random I'm sure.

Am I the only one who has problems with the captcha?  I can't be.  They have refresh buttons for a reason.  And they should.  Not only are the letters of the captcha incredibly small, but they are also blurry and all smushed together.  They make no sense, and every single time I'm asked to type in the 'words above' I get them wrong.  And it's not just once, or twice where I've made that mistake.  There have been times when the number of tries is much higher (I won't share how high.  Let's just say it's high enough to make one question my smarts).

Besides, doesn't the captcha violate a computer's first amendment rights?  I bet that's what finally puts the machines over the edge...

Musings

They say blogs are now a thing of the past.  Sigh...that seems so sad.  Even though I did not regularly blog myself, I enjoyed reading the blogs of other people.  So much nicer than a short facebook paragraph or these mysterious tweets I keep hearing about.  Besides, how am I ever going to make a fortune as a famous blogger if no one reads blogs anymore?

I realize that in order for that to happen I would actually have to write on a consistent basis.  Since I don't see that happening anytime in the next decade, I guess my blogger dreams will never be realized.  I'll just have to write a best selling novel and then put a tweet link on my facebook account.  Yeah...

Adventure at Boy Scouts

Though, according to Bryant, there really was no adventure.  Wednesday evening my sister got a call from her husband.  Wait - let me backtrack a bit.  This past week my son, nephew and bro-in-law all went to scout camp.  They left Monday morning, at 4-freakin-am. (in our house 4 am is a bedtime)  The call on Wednesday was to let us know that their scout troop was trapped on the wrong side of a flooded river.  Apparently everything, merit badges, mess hall, and the road home, were on the opposite side.  According to the local news (it actually made it into the paper) it was a precarious situation with food being passed to the trapped boy scouts by a rope and pulley system.  Needless to say I was anticipating an exciting story when Bryant finally made it home.  We weren't sure - because of the terribly precarious situation -when the boys would actually make it home. To my surprise Bryant walked in the door today around noon.  When I asked about his ordeal he rolled his eyes, scoffed, and said it was 'no big deal'.  I was a little grumpy this morning, er...afternoon, and did not appreciate the teenage attitude, especially when I was expecting something exciting, something worthwhile to blog about. Alas, thanks to my almost fifteen year old boy, I have nothing.

The week before Lauren was at girls camp.  This past week Bryant was at scout camp.  Of course, as a good mother, I missed them both terribly and could not wait for them to get home.  However, as a bad mother.....and I believe I'll stop right there.

Sniff....

We had to get a new car.  It's shiny, and sleek and doesn't smell like fifteen years of use.  I don't like it.  I mean, as a car it's fine, but I miss the old one, the one that was completely paid for, the first car Carl and I bought together, I miss our little red corolla.  So what if the paint was chipping off, it shook when you drove it, and we had to jimmy rig the handle with wire to get it to open...hold on I'm having a hard time remembering my point.  New car vs. old car...new car not as good as old...why is new car not as good as old?  Did I mention that the corolla was totally and 100% paid for?  Let's be honest, that's a big bonus point in the corolla's favor.  That and the fact that after fifteen years, 338,000 miles, and at least a dozen spilled smoothies, we didn't have any problems or issues with the corolla (besides the funky smell of dried smoothie sitting in the sun.  Yowza!  That'll clear the sinus's.) not one!  The day Carl traded-in the corolla I texted him and told him to take a picture.  He texted back, "I already did."  Sigh...what sentimental old fools we've become.

A very blurry picture of the corolla.  Sadly it doesn't show my attempts to 'repaint' and 'recover' the fading and chipping paint.  I won't say anything more on that subject except Carl still shudders when he sees me with paint in my hand.











 I thought we would simply get another corolla but apparently I was wrong.  Carl wanted something sportier. (the whole 'accelerating on it's own' thing with the newer corolla's didn't help either)  Carl might have said sportier, but I heard smaller.  How in the world was my six foot six macho man going to fit into something smaller?  He already drove the corolla with his head touching the ceiling.  And it's not like corolla's are known for their vast and roomy interior.  A friend suggested we get a Lexus.  Why I don't know.  So far we haven't hit that independently wealthy part of our marriage.  Plus, a Lexus isn't Purnell friendly.  My mom had a Lexus and our experience with it wasn't exactly Lexus ownership encouraging.  Carl was just too tall.  If he wanted to ride in it, or drive it, he had to open the sun roof so his head would have someplace to go.  I would have made fun, but I had my own issues.  Whenever I drove I had to sit so close that, every time I checked my blind spot, my chest would honk the horn.  Needless to say we did not get a Lexus.  We got a Honda Civic Coupe - two door.  And Carl actually fits better in it than he did in the corolla.  The seat sits back and low so his height is an advantage.  As for my height, there's no way I'll be driving the new car.  Not unless I can figure out a way to see over the dashboard and get my feet to touch the pedals at the same time.  But, on the bright side, at least there will be no chest honking.