SoLong TiVo

In an effort to conserve cash and not become the kinds of homeowners who live in one room of their home, spending their free time sewing sock monkeys and watching cassette tapes of The Mikado on their VCRs by the light of a single, unshaded lamp (as I actually did spend one harrowing month in Wilmington back in 2001), we have had to make some cuts, and sadly, TiVo found itself on the chopping block this week.

This was depressing to Ben and particularly to me, as I had developed an almost gross love for the machine itself, with its happy glowing be-legged television icon and its Wonka-esque booping noises. After a rocky start, in which TiVo became convinced that we were middle-aged black people who enjoyed reruns of Martin and Amen (where are they still showing Amen? Does anyone even remember this show besides me? And TiVo?), we have gotten along famously. By the end, TiVo had introduced us to some of our favorite friends-- Bill Kurtis of American Justice; the guy who does all the voice-overs for the various Battle Against Nature shows on the History Channel ("Chase doesn't know it yet, but this could be the very tree that kills him"); the plucky interventionists of Intervention (my favorite: the one who always tells the drug addicts that they have a family "that loves them like crazy").

But Evil Empire Cable offers a vaguely similar, sort-of adequate faux TiVo (FoVo) for ten dollars less a month, and for some reason, adding it to our list of services somehow lowered our cable bill, not even counting TiVo, by another fourteen, so we had to let it go.

Not, however, without a fight-- Ben did some of the most strenuous flirting I have ever witnessed with the TiVo representative in an attempt to get the far superior Two-Shows-at-Once TiVo receiver out of her-- our logic being that if TiVo could out perform FoVo, we could keep it. The exchange went something like this:

Ben: Hey, baby.

TiVo Rep: I hear you want to cancel your TiVo service? That makes me sad.

Ben: I don't want you to be sad, Sugar Tits. Daddy wants you to be happy. And you know how you could make Daddy happy? With the Two-Shows-at-Once TiVo.

TiVo Rep: Aw, baby, you know I can't just give away the Two-Vo.

Ben: For me you could. Because if you do, we could make sweet love all night long. And I'll even scratch your back after. Awww, yeah.

TiVo Rep: Your offer intrigues me, as I enjoy making sweet love with TiVo fans. Let me see what I can do.

But sadly, in the end she could do nothing for us, even after Ben promised to wash her car in the nude and buy her the rights to the photos of Brad and Angelina's newest babies. (At which point, he called her a Tease-Vo and hung up on her.) (Also, please note: this conversation may not have actually occurred in this way.) So our TiVo box moulders, unplugged and dusty, on a shelf in our basement, while FoVo usurps its glory and spits in our faces by recording the same episode of Intervention four times for no reason. I loved the episode like crazy, but still.

Ojas Versus Euclid: The Score So Far

Euclid:

1. Brown-out (one point)
2. Water stoppage (one point)
3. Garmin stolen (five points)
4. Recent citation demanding that we cut our grass, or pay a $150 fine (one point)
5. Sudden appearance of new crazy man named Pete living down the street who won't stop talking to me when I walk the dog (one point)

Total: Nine points

Ojas:

1. Acquired new Garmin, which will be carefully hidden, more than likely in one of my bodily cavities, until we have officially vacated the premises (one point)
2. Kim's Euclid city tax bill was inexplicably only $9.06 (one point)
3. Moved to a much nicer community with no grass-mowing related laws, where Garmin will remain safe forever (one bazillion points)

Total: One bazillion and two points

So HA! In your FACE, Euclid! You have been powned by our superior level of awesomeness

Where to?

As a gift at my bridal shower two weeks ago, Ben's mom bought me a most extravagant Garmin navigation system. She and I both share an all-consuming fear of getting lost in strange places, so it was a perfectly suited gift.

Unfortunately, though, in the past two weeks I have not actually been called upon to go anywhere I don't already know how to get to (except for Old Time Pottery in Parma, which Garmin led us to most efficiently). So for right now, I'm mostly just performing the age old ritual of Fucking Around With My New Toy Until I Accidentally Break It.

So far, the best feature (other than its obvious navigational abilities) is the fact that I can customize the voice in which the Garmin speaks. For its first two weeks, it was an erudite, Russian-sounding woman named Jill, but just this morning, in a bit of a funk with pre-wedding jitters and mall anxiety (attempting to find a suitable gift for my parents), I changed it over to the soothing sounds of Daniel, a smoking-hot British dude who probably looks a lot like Colin Firth (at least, this is my aural impression of him).

Tonight, I might upload some MP3s and pictures to it, just because I can. And when the price of gas goes down to a more tolerable $2.80 level, I plan to drive myself out into the middle of nowhere and let Daniel lead me home with his sexy, sexy robot voice.