I had, like, five really hot topics for the blog but then something happened that changed everything:
Firefox updated itself last night and my old computer won’t accept it anymore. So I had to switch to Safari.
First, the Holocaust and now this. My people are always being persecuted. Plus, my people are not a Safari people. We are a desert people. So we use Firefox.
Opening my computer on a regular weekday morning and suddenly having to use a completely unfamiliar browser, well, that rocks my fragile world. It’s like, I don’t know, landing in Zimbabwe when I boarded the plane for Palm Desert. I don’t speak the language, I don’t recognize the landmarks, and I have no idea which native foods will give me diarrhea.
I miss Firefox. When will the hurting stop?
Before today, I could wake up in the morning, lumber into my office, log in and start my day all without a cup of coffee or even opening my eyes. Yea, though I walked through the valley of Gmail and Facebook, I was not afraid; Firefox was by my side. Now I must cleave myself unto a new browser. And now I have to figure out how to hack into Robin’s email account all over again.
Yeah, I hack into his account. The way I see it, hacking is like having an intimate conversation with my husband – sharing hopes, dreams, and secrets -only he doesn’t even have to be there. We can maintain our intimate bond while one of us is sleeping or at work, and then when we are actually together we can pretty much just watch TV in silence during dinner.
Win/win. Going on 32 years this September.
It’s a good thing I know Robin in real life because in real life he is hugely interesting. He raises bees, he does Tai Chi, he taught himself to be a salmon fisherman, he plays the clarinet, he can quote Neruda and Karl Marx. To judge him, however, solely by his emails, FB, private messages, and the porn he bookmarks, he is a big ole slice of white bread. With Miracle Whip.
Only once did I find something juicy in his Comcast account. An unread email from a woman who, evidently, was really pissed off at him. She sent him this laundry list of his transgressions full of very cutting and – in my opinion – unnecessarily cruel and personal remarks. It was totally out of line. I almost deleted it and sent her an email defending him. But then Robin might know that I had hacked him. Also, the email was from me. That was when I learned that Robin doesn’t even bother opening emails from me that have as the subject line: Fuck You And Here’s Why. I swear, the man doesn’t even want to make our marriage better.
So, farewell Firefox. And farewell hacking, because if I’ve learned anything from being on Safari for a day, it’s that a marriage must be based on trust. And that now when I access Robin’s accounts, it shows up on my History.