Love The One You're With.

Okay, after a hiatus fueled by the glee of newfound employment, I have returned to Earth and to my readers. Yes, I have readers! Not many, but a few. And I love you. You know who you are.

Since moving to Maine and becoming poor as crap, I've learned a new lesson: If you can't be with the one you love (honey), love the one you're with... do-do-do-do-do-do-DO-DO. I wrote that just now. What I mean is, there have been a few biggish things I've wanted or needed to change, replace, fix or upgrade, but without ANY money to spare, I've had to improvise.

First was my computer. I didn't have one until my friend (and talented graphic designer) Michael and his wife Sadie gave me their busted little iBook. I think Sadie had tripped on the power cord and yanked the computer off of a table or something, then stepped on it while trying to keep her balance.

The screen was cracked and the hard drive was broken. But I really needed a computer, being a computer tech and all. So I replaced the hard drive with one I had lying around my friend (and sousaphone player) John had a spare screen he gave to me. After a few harrowing procedures and many hours of work, I had a fully-functioning laptop.

Next, my one good pair of dress pants (handy for job interviews) that aren't totally baggy on me (i.e. the only pants I've purchased since being 50 lbs fatter) had a run of misfortune. I snagged them with a hulking piece of metal at work, then a button fell off, they became too dirty to wear, plus I realized they were too long. So I took them to the dry cleaner and had them shortened, cleaned and mended. I will finally get those out of hawk with my first real paycheck.

Reeve's iBook died the other day. The screen was all jittery and the whole thing kept freezing. Luckily I found a solution in an online forum which was to remove the case and super-glue 3 thicknesses of squares cut from an old credit card to a certain part of the chassis of the computer, thus applying pressure to a broken solder joint on the motherboard. It seems to work now.

My boots, like my pants, were getting tired. I went to mall-towne looking for suitable replacement pair but everything was either too expensive or else brown. So last night I got out the super glue and big metal glue clamps and repaired the soles, then bought some saddle soap for the salt stains and some black polish, some fancy $12 insoles from the grocery store and some waterproofing spray and I'll be damned if these boots don't have a new lease on life!

The living room was bugging me and so I did a major reshuffling of furniture and lighting and now it seems perfect. The dishwasher had been leaving everything really gritty since we moved in, so I researched what to do and cleaned it out and bought a special soap and now it's fine.

My espresso machine is old and was missing its portafilter handle. The front panel had snapped off and was hanging by wires. It was dirty throughout. So I replaced the handle, learned how to clean it, super-glued the face back on, found some tricks to making better espresso with my particular machine and now I'm loving it.

My cell phone was a burden. It was slow, unreliable, it had low battery life. I found an online update to the phone's software, uninstalled some programs I didn't need and now I'm really happy with it. My dining chairs were embarrassingly rusty, so I used the steel wool I bought for just that purpose TWO YEARS AGO and scrubbed them down.

I guess I could go on. What I started to say was "Look at what you can do with what you've already got, even though things seem broken or old!" but after all this typing, I guess what I'm saying is "Damn, I've been way more productive and optimistic since I've been on Prozac!"

Now... what do I do about the cat peeing on the floor?