Scanners, Jackets and Pictures

Well, the weekend was a mixed bag, but it mostly qualified as a success. The big news is that I finally got my scanner working again. The damned thing is, I don’t know how I did it. I was finally able to locate the unzipped files (the ones that I complained I couldn’t find in a prior update), but for some reason the executable files to load the new driver in for my scanner wouldn’t execute. So I wiped out the downloaded drivers, stuck my old disc with the driver software on it back into the “F” drive, and loaded that again. For the fourth time, I might add. This time, I did absolutely nothing differently and it worked like a charm.

Now all I have to figure out is why approximately every other reboot locks my computer up. When I check task manager during the lock-up, I discover msgsrv32 is failing to respond. I guess all I need to do is find out what msgsrv32 is and then get a new one from somewhere. After the nearly month long fight with my scanner though, I’m unwilling to dive into this battle just now. My computer apparently works even if I hit “end task” for msgsrv32, so that’s what I intend to do until it annoys me enough to look into it. I intend to take time and savor my computer victory. They come too seldom and too few not to fully bask in the warmth of success when it does occur.

I went through my closet Friday, looking for what I owned that would be appropriate for the Socialist’s mother’s funeral. My plan was to see if the grey pants suit I purchased for my own Mom’s funeral still fit (I’ve lost weight over the past three and a half years). I could find the slacks just fine, but the jacket was nowhere in my closet. I went downstairs to the coat closet, wondering if I had put it down there by accident, but no joy. I came back up, went through my closet again, and found a nice jacket belonging to the Socialist in there, with its tags still dangling from the sleeve. It had been tucked all the way in the back of my closet, behind my old wedding dress, and I’d never had reason to look back there before now.

I had hopes that if I’d had that in my closet for over a year without realizing it, then maybe the grey jacket to my suit could be in the Socialist’s closet, but it wasn’t to be. On top of that, The Socialist made fun of me for not being willing to just go into his closet to look.

There is, of course, a story behind that. I grew up on of three sisters. If one of my sisters wanted something, they just went into my room and took it. When I criticized my younger sister about going into my room and using my things, she pointed out that I helped myself to the books in her room whenever I wanted.

In my defense, a book in my hands is as good as a book at the library. I revere books, probably past the point where it’s healthy. I took far better care of my sister’s books than my sister did. But that wasn’t the point. She was right. I did go into her room and help myself to her books with impunity. If I expected to have my stuff respected, then I had to do the same. I’ve never since gone through anything that wasn’t mine, nor borrowed anything without permission. It’s a point of pride with me at this point.

So, even though he thought it was kind of strange, The Socialist helped me look through his closet. There was absolutely no sign of my suit jacket there. He had very few clothes to go through, so I know for a fact that the jacket wasn’t there. How the heck do guys get by with so few clothes anyhow?

So we ventured out to Value City, a local discount department store, where The Socialist got a very good deal on a shirt a few days previously. Value City is one of those places that require patience and persistence. They *probably* have what you want, and they *probably* have it at a damned good price. But you won’t find it until you’ve spent a good half hour or more looking for it. In my case, the first jackets I found were a great price, but were unlined. I learned years ago that that kind of frugality will turn around and bite you on the butt. I’d sooner pay more for a quality jacket than a pittance for a jacket that you have to keep buttoned the entire time you have it on.

Some poking around, and I found some nicer jackets on sale around the corner from where I first located the unlined jackets. Some were hideous. A few were gorgeous, and a good price, but more than I wanted to pay ($210 jacket priced down to $76). Some were less perfect, either tailored to fit King Kong or redefining the meaning of “double breasted”.

Then, nearly three-quarters of an hour after we entered the store, as I was giving up and going off in search of the Socialist, I found one last rack of jackets against the wall. And Lo! There was the grey jacket I’d been looking for, priced at $20. When I got it home and compared it to the grey slacks I have, it was a little darker. Still with a black turtleneck and some plain silver jewelry it will do just fine, and I’ll be able to get use out of it with other slacks as well. In fact, I was just thinking this morning it wouldn’t look too bad with jeans. It would be a waste to wear anything that nice to work though.

I finally downloaded all my pictures from my camera to my computer from the last six weeks. Pictures of my Christmas tree, pictures of the dangerous icicles handing from our roof, pictures of the cats with their new Christmas toys, pictures of Warrior Princess in a particularly weird pose, pictures, pictures, pictures. I plan to upload them to HamiAlbums as soon as possible, and then go back and append them to the appropriate diary entries from the past month. So keep your eyes on your in box for updates to prior entries. I can promise you, there will be pictures of your favorite cats, including one of Clueless when he forgets to put his tongue in.