Sometimes I FUCKING HATE this internet connection.

There is just no excuse for this thing to be acting this way. There really isn't. I mean, all other webpages pop up nicely just like they're supposed to on a cable hookup, but then other pages just don't and no matter what I do, they refuse to come through until either I kill my connection and start it again or I wait a while and then TA DA! it just magically works.


I mean, Deviant Art is a particular sore spot with me when it comes to this goddamn thing. The site may come in fine - aside from some of the pictures. They don't show. Random thumbs on the front page, the larger versions of images (and yet when I choose smaller view they come through perfectly). Refresh doesn't work. "Go" at the top doesn't work. Clicking it back and forth doesn't work. Sometimes the "Download" option works, but if there isn't one then I'm screwed and sometimes it's just a bitch and doesn't work ANYway so wtf.

Now, back in Rantoul it was cool. Why? Because the internet was slow. Being slow, while not awesome, at least means I know what I'm getting. If a page is hardcore Flash, then no shit, it isn't going to load, isn't going to load well, or isn't going to load until 15-60 minutes later. I knew what to expect with a dial-up internet connection, so while everyone around me was yelling and bitching at the computer, I sat there patiently and let it do its thing because I knew it could only go so fast and freaking out wasn't going to get me anywhere.

I know freaking out isn't going to get me anywhere either, but I swear to God it just pisses me off to no end that an internet connection that is supposed to be super-fucking-awesome just has random seizures and/or clusterfuck moments. There's no pattern either! It doesn't only freak out at DA (like I originally thought it was isolated to), but it's freaked out everywhere from YouTube to Hotmail to the goddamn local library webpage. I shouldn't have to be rebooting my connection every few hours just to get to a single fucking page. It just makes me want to throw things and I have nowhere to properly lash out at because we have long since made the punching bag unavailable (and after the move dad sold it, only to learn that OHYEAH, NIKKI LIKES TO HIT IT FROM TIME TO TIME). Cripes. *grr*

Oh, yeah, NOW the DA pictures work. Fucking reject cable connection. *grumbles*

On a lighter note, you people should have seen me yesterday when the parents went out for coffee at Star-steal-your-bucks and then a bit of grocery shopping. Now, I'm pretty certain that if I had my own place, I would be content because I would eat like I wanted and wouldn't have to worry about restrictions. I'd eat healthy enough, but still have junk food on hand to make me happy. I did it at college, so there's no reason I wouldn't do it again. However, stuck here means I have to deal with everyone else and most notably, dad and his carbs-are-evil diet. T_T Now even that wouldn't be so bad if we were able to have a reasonable amount of snacky food in the house (a bag of chips and some cookies - I honestly don't need that much), but since Ashley is dieting too (because she needs it), that means that sort of thing is out. For dad, if it's here, he "has" to eat it. Like, the man has no self control. He's got this Everest mantra: if it's there, I'm going to eat it. No, no, you do not. You do not have to eat it if it's in the house! And then he gets all pissed if we hide food. Um, we hide it so you don't know it's here and hence, you don't eat it. Doy. And then if we get good food and everyone's eating it, Ashley has to have some too because come on, that's just mean if everyone is chowing down on cookies and we say, "Nope, sorry, you can't have any, you're fat." I mean, she's a big girl, but it's not like she's scary obese or anything.

So me? Here's my problem. If it's not in the house and it's not allowed in the house, I start to go all psycho. I want it more because I can't have it, which makes me freak out because I never know when I'll be able to next have a cookie or chocolate bar without everyone around me wigging out. I start to twitch. People who know me already know I'm a chocoholic and if you give me good quality chocolate, I will freaking love you for life (or at least until you do something to majorly piss me off). So now that I'm in an environment where chocolate is prohibited until someone higher up (mom) starts twitching herself and dad allows her to have some or cracks himself and has a bit since just a little isn't going to kill his diet (though these times are few and far between). If I had my own place, I wouldn't be concerned. I'd have a bag of cookies or a bag of Hershey nuggets or something, eat a few after a meal, and that would be my fix. Awesome, clean cup, move down.

Ok, to the actual story; I probably looked like a flippin' coke dealer. You know how in the movies, say, Goodfellas, at the end when they get caught and Ray Liotta's wife is dumping all the coke down the toilet in that "Ohshitohshit" way and trying to make sure she doesn't spill and all that stuff? Ok, that was me. I have a recipe for No Bake Cookies and we had all the ingredients in the house. I'd been looking for an opportunity to make them, and so far, no dice. When they went out, the second I heard the car leave, I jumped up and started grabbing for ingredients, throwing butter into the pot and letting it melt while pouring milk into a measuring cup for solid ingredients and pretty much throwing everything together and muttering at the stuff in the pot, "Come on, come on, boil already!" Mostly because I didn't know if they were just getting coffee or getting coffee and doing a bit of shopping (mom had fussed about it being too late to shop so they left sort of clucking at each other). So I'm stirring stuff around, cranking up the heat and hoping Ashley doesn't come downstairs because then I'll have to share and I'm not too keen on doing that mostly because I don't want to be the instrument of her diet downfall.

I must have set a speed record for making these cookies, which I didn't even put down in cookie format because dropping them onto wax paper to cool would have taken up way too much time, and I can't hide them that way, so BOOM! into the 9x9 inch pan they go since I can cut them into bars later (I've done this before, heh). And now I've made us nearly empty on sugar, oats (not like anyone used them anyway), butter, and peanut butter (except I don't feel too bad about that because dad eats that crap like candy since he's always craving carbs and that's the best he can come up with since it's mostly protein or whatever). I didn't start thinking about Goodfellas until the cleanup. Now that everything is done, I'm throwing shit back into cupboards and making sure they're in the right spots so as not to look conspicuous, and washing out the pot, measuring cups, spoons, knives, and anything else I used and putting it right back where I got it so it doesn't look like (duh) I cooked something. I'd had the fan on above the stove to suck out the heat and scent of chocolate (just cocoa powder), and made sure to wipe up even the few drops of chocolate mixture where I'd stirred a little too vigorously.

Want an adrenaline rush? Cook like a psycho. Of course, after all that (which might have taken as little as 15-20 minutes for all I know) they didn't get back until way later, but at least by then I had the cookies up in my room cooling off where no one will see them except mom or Ashley. Ashley might ask about them or ask to have one, as I'm sure she knows what they are, but until then, I'm not going to mosey over there and offer one. I know, and I feel bad about it because it pretty much makes me a selfish, sugar-grubbing whore, but I'm tired of sharing when I really shouldn't be anyway when it comes to things like that. I told mom I had them because I'd been talking to her about them anyway, but she hasn't come up for any either (and bought Tastykakes today sooo...yeah I dunno).

Anyway, I was just amused by myself. I think if anyone had seen me they would have been like, "Geez, Nicole, chill out!" Eheheheheh....

Fuck yeah no bake cookies!
3 Responses
  1. Will Says:

    I was having that exact same problem all of last night and even now. Is your service Comcast?

    If you want to start an underground railroad of sweets, I don't mind being the start points. I think we actually have a pack of your super favorite cookies that I know won't be eaten anytime too soon.

    What we should do is try and get a trip to Hersey Park and just load you up on sweets. The amount of candy you can get there is insane. The place might as well be made out of chocolate.

  2. Nicole Says:

    Yep, Comcast. But we have a small home network set up so I'm not even the direct link to them. Don't know if that's a factor or not. When I get mad enough I go downstairs to use a computer, grumbling about how lame it is that I have to, etc. etc.

    Hehe. You know what chocolate is awesome that I don't think you can buy in the store? Fannie May makes these AWESOME candy bars but I think you can only get them if you're doing a school fundraiser thingy. They're worth every friggin' penny though.

    Maybe the WPF program should "fundraise" for something...we're an organized group.... XD

  3. Stacey Says:

    WOW. I least it's not meth or coke or anything like that. Here's what I propose you do: Save up enough money to fly out here for 2-3 weeks to just EAT, WRITE, and slug. Occasionally work out, if you want, the fitness center is a couple blocks away. I'm not kidding. Start saving up money for a flight out here, unless you'd rather drive. We can bake cookies like there's no fuckin' tomorrow (assuming they won't go flat, like last time).