Farewell HDTV (Or, Dan McAllister, We Hate You)

So just yesterday, on our anniversary, I wrote with glee how well things were going. Unfortunately, the Universe was listening in and decided to pee pee on my positivity parade.

Not only were we enjoying a wickedly happy marriage, I wrote, we were going to celebrate it. We had fancy dinner plans. A movie all picked out. A babysitter. Everything was set for a romantic evening, and we were excited about using our hard-earned savings for a rare treat: a new HDTV.

Talk about premature exaltation. We ended up spending the evening in our jammies, huddled on the couch eating leftovers and watching reruns, our savings gone and owing more besides, and our business and livelihood hanging in the balance on the verdict of a speckled nerd and his little screwdriver. Happy anniversary.

Two things changed everything:

1. Mail. Our Tax Assessor, Dan McAllister, informed us via letter (such a pussy - couldn't do it in person because he KNEW what would happen to him) that we have a "supplemental" property tax bill overdue on our house. Elsewhere, that might not be so big a deal, but this is San Diego. If your property taxes are anywhere in the four digits, you're lucky. Just our supplemental tax (as in taxes on top of the regular taxes) is four digits. Adios, savings account. Adios, HDTV.

2. Technology. The Varmint's Mac G5 exploded like a VW on an uphill climb. Except for no good reason.

PrayingVarmintThe computer is by far the bigger deal. It's just two years old - that's like 45 in computer years. It's big. It's fancy. And yeah, it's freaking expensive. But most important? It holds all of our client files. It's the main computer for our agency.

Lucky we back things up, but our business? Dead in the water. At least until it is fixed or the computer is (gulp) replaced. And there is still going to be a gap between the last backup and our mini apocalypse, kind of like of losing your term paper the night before it's due.

The poor, panic-stricken Varmint was at the computer hospital until 8pm last night, engaging in Nerd Talk and making funeral arrangements, just in case. He came home sad, hungry and licking his fur - no time to force a celebration. We canceled.

"Repeat after me," I said to myself as much as to him, "It's just money."


"It's just money."


"It's. Just. Money."

Fuck it.

Time instead for a primal scream: "AUUUUURRRRRRGGH!"

We feel much better. Poorer. Sadder. Still with puckered backsides til we find out the verdict of the G5. But better. 


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I am a writer and lazy artist who loves travel, architecture and design. Right now, I'm into photography. My fabulous husband (a.k.a. The Varmint) and I are also the principals of a San Diego-based creative agency - and new parents to the divine Baby Mak. Read More >