Don't Send the Cable Guy to my House

Yesterday Alan had Comcast come out and install a box of some sort that enables us to have High Definition on a few channels. I am content with picking up a remote, pushing buttons that make the channels go up and down and adjusting the volume. That's all I need. But alas, Alan believes we should use our TV for the way, "it was intended."

The cable guy asked question after question-to which I could only respond, "I don't know, let's call my husband." Four phone calls and nearly an hour later, at the end of the installation, the cable guy (who Jolee told to his face, "You look like a gas station worker!") sat on the arm of my couch-BIG NO NO, and tried to explain this new marvelous technology to me and the million buttoned remote that went along with it. A joke. The guy could have been explaining quantum physics to me for all I know.

Technology; I'm pretty darn proud of myself for learning how to post this blog!