Yes, I'm moved in. No, I'm not unpacked and settled. Yes, I need a beer.
I'm really grumpy because I don't have internet yet. I made the wrong choice: I figured it would just be easiest at first to get the Verizon service transferred from my previous house to this one and just plug in my existing modem and wi-fi transmitter. No waiting around for a cable guy, methinks. But no, stupid me, it couldn't possibly be that easy. First off, I didn't actually get the phone service when they said I did. Dude called me Monday morning to say he was hooking it up. So then I went to use it Tuesday, after I had finally found my telephone, and it didn't work. I called Verizon and they said they showed it as being good to go. The woman told me to go test it at the box outside (which involved stringing together two extension cords and running them out a basement window so I could plug in the cordless set outside). It really, truly didn't work, so I called them back and they finally sent out a guy who found that there was some problem between the pole and my house. Couldn't the first guy have checked that when he did my install? No, maybe too much work ...
So then Verizon tells me my DSL is also GTG. I hauled out the gear and its associated spaghetti of wires and hooked it all up, but no go. The modem power light came on, but not the other two that indicate it's actually getting data. Here I descended into tech support hell, talking to two different women who I'm guessing could have been in China from their accents. (I had to call twice because the first time I accidentally cut myself off whilst playing with phone wires D'oh!) Each dutifully followed her script to take me step-by-step through the whole troubleshooting process. In these situations, you cannot deviate from the script or they get very confused. It takes for-freaking-ever.
So at one point the second tech-helper-person wanted me to unplug my phone--the one on which I was talking to her. She had to call me back on my cell phone, which brings me to yet another problem: I seem to live in a nearly wireless-free zone. Inside the house, I'm lucky to get a signal at all, and out in the yard I can maybe get two bars. I may have to give up on the crack phone and go with another wireless plan if this persists. Dammitalltohell.
So anyway, back to tech support torture room. After two hours on the phone, the last half hour of which was on my cell phone and involved me walking around my back yard to maintain a signal while the techie repeatedly put me on hold for five minutes at a time while she "checked on something," I cracked. About the fifth time she came back on the line to apologize and tell me she had to put me back on hold, I told her I would rather just cancel my Verizon DSL than stay on the phone any longer, and that I really had to go to work soon. So she said she was pretty sure the problem was that my modem wasn't compatible with my phone line, and that she would transfer me directly so some guy about getting me a new modem. So after another five minutes on hold, I get a guy named Chris, who starts to tell me what they will have to charge me for the modem and them bam, the cell signal drops out and I lose the call.
Fucking fuck, says I. (No, actually what I said was a lot fucking worse than that). Fuck Verizon. I figured at this rate, there's no way in hell I was going to get my DSL working before Monday, what with tomorrow being that big patriotic holiday and all, and if I was going to wait that long I may as well just get a cable guy to come out. So I canceled with Verizon and called Time Warner, and after another eternity on the phone with a very nice sales rep I have an appointment for Monday morning between 8 am and noon. Please, please, please let the guy really show up. Please.
So anyway, I guess I'll be semi-incommunicado all weekend unless I want to schlep my gear to a coffeehouse with free wi-fi, something I've never actually done before because I've never seen the point of going somewhere else for internet when I have it at home. And my coffee is free.
Oh yeah, and one more adventure: last night I actually locked myself and my two little dogs out on the screen porch. That's when it struck me how dark it is at night in my new neighborhood and how far apart the houses are compared to Trinity Park. And also how I don't know a single one of my neighbors (except the dog next door who comes up to the fence looking for attention and gets pointedly ignored by Pinky and Lucy). After a few minutes of wandering around looking for a house where it appeared someone might be home, all the while listening to Pinky's yelps echo through the neighborhood, I decided to test my security. It took a great deal of determination and a lot of noise, but I was able to break into my own house. I'm not going to say how, because I don't want you trying it, but I had to have someone come repair the damage I did this morning. I'll be stopping by True Value Hardware this evening to buy a few necessary security fortifications, as well as a lockbox so I never have to break into my own house again.