The dude wanted to Skype with me after 7 p.m., and sent his address to add to my contacts. Okaaaaayyyyy. I haven't used Skype for a long time; in fact, since before I got this laptop. First, though, since some Russkies had figured out how to steal something like a billion user names and passwords, I changed my most important ones. Modern Internet security protocols dictate that we create passwords that no one, short of someone having an eidetic memory, can remember them. I'll worry about that tomorrow (hear deep Southern accent and see on me long, billowy dress blowing in the gale winds of war).
I fired up Skype. Confession time (again): when I got this laptop, lo unto many years ago, the world and, therefore Toshiba and Best Buy, had "upgraded" to Windows8. Even Bill Gates hates Windows8. I gave up on its Start menu from the beginning, operating instead on my familiar Windows desktop. This old dog grows weary of change.
I found Skype, eventually, and cranked her on up. Nope. "Trouble connecting." Sigh. Light another cigarette and switch from Maureen Blend shakes-inducing coffee to water. An hour passed as I downloaded applications I neither need nor want, having to look up my new unbreakable passwords along the way. I succeeded/won eventually and tested the audio and video, taking care that the background of the video of me wasn't distracting or scary. I added the dude's address, which meant that Skype sent him the request. I reset all of my sleep and shutdown so they wouldn't interfere with the transmission. Congratulating myself, I waited.
And waited. No reply to my request to add the dude to my contacts list, no response to my reply, and, ultimately, no Skype contact. Well, shoot.
I did, however, spend the intervening hours being productive. With Maureen's assistance, I finished The Great 2014 Guest Bathroom Paint Project.
Corner that was a gaping crack |
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