My email to Ableton.

I am really disappointed in the Ableton 9 demo. The only reason I downloaded it was for a specific feature. You say it’s a fully functional version, and it isn’t. Melody to Midi is turned off.

Please quit lying about the demo version in your ads. TELL PEOPLE what is turned off, and if you have a reason, why. If you’re just having a little giggle at the customer’s discomfort, you might want to mention that too.

Let’s review my experience.

Download. Can’t get the authorization. “Oh use Chrome” “I was using Chrome” “Okay use Firefox”. Manage to download it. Feature I want isn’t present. CURSES. Then I get a push email saying I can have the software for 30 percent off. Which means, candidly, that you know the software is overpriced, right out of the gate. And the UI is a nightmare, although I imagine if I had nothing better to do I could get used to it.

So here’s a suggestion. Why don’t you unlock the feature on my version of the software for 48 hours so I can test it, and THEN I buy it? at a 30 percent discount? If it works as advertised?

Also, I have watched videos on the internet in which the video commences with somebody saying “I just downloaded the Ableton 9 demo” and they show off this feature, that one feature which is what I want. I assume this is all some error, but it was one of the reasons I put 2 gigs of your ‘software’ on my computer in the first place, so you might want to ask the gent to stop saying that it’s a demo version in his video, unless of course Ableton put him up to it.

I suspect that unlocking Melody to Midi for 48 hours so I can test it is not part of your repertoire of customer responses, and I’m not hoping it will happen, because nasty crybaby customers who are all butthurt because, hey, you lied, are so easy to ignore when you’re not mocking them. I do know that I won’t purchase the product without being able to test the one thing about it I wanted, and that my anger and disappointment on learning that I can’t use it the way I wanted to is only lightly hinted at in this email.

TL:DR Fuck you fuck you all, may you step out of your office and be clarned by a turtle, may the local police make an example of you, may scary clowns cut off your beards with pinking shears, may the worst doctors treat you and your children, may you catch something horrific and lingering, may sentient anal warts grace your pudendum, may chimps bite off your face and naughty bits, may every finale be marred by spoilers, may you never again find a parking space, may children drop rocks on you from an overpass, may your whole life be audits not plaudits, may you be on a first name basis with every bailiff in town, may the local council make a mistake and demolish your house and then tell you that you didn’t read the posting, may you be drunk like a glass of water, may you swallow plutonium, may asteroids hit you and nobody notice that you’re dead.

My innards are being quite rude to me, but that probably has something to do with all the arrowroot biscuits I ate over the last two days.  I’m also super tired.  I walked to the dentist, where I THOUGHT I was going to get my teeth cleaned and didn’t because their appointment booking software sucks. Instead I got shot full of xrays and told to come back in July.  Gee, thanks.

I bought food (I finally remembered to bring the wooden shopping bag handles) and walked, rather slowly, back and now I just feel really really tired. On the way a woman went by me YELLING AT THE TOP OF HER LUNGS HOW JESUS ALL SHE WANTED WAS A GODDAM DRINK AND A GODDAM BITE TO EAT.  Well now if you’re in the middle of a psychotic episode (signs definitely pointing that way…) you might have a little trouble getting seated at the café.

And I have to mow the lawn, although I am going to wait until it is just barely light enough out and do it then.  I should probably do some weed whacking too but I’ll see what happens to my energy level.  I am having some other symptoms too which I am too kind to worry you all with, but it’s all consistent with early onset dementia, so that’s very jolly making.  Losing my ability to think and talk!  It’s what I was put on earth for.

I tried to nap and a friend phoned just as I was falling asleep.  Friend, shaky fisty!

We are going to have unchurch on Sunday and I can hardly wait.  It will be very different than what I am used to.  I decided to bail on Sasamat camp; without campfires, wacky tabacky and beer, plus at least the possibility of illicit sex and a musical jam, it all seems rather pointless; I don’t imagine most people really frame church camps in those terms, though. They always have a no talent night but it’s all so dreadfully earnest, and the older I get the clearer I am in my own mind about what I really think is fun as opposed to what the prescribed forms of fun are.

Lexi, bless her, fed me a super easy but tasty meal (cannellini beans and grape tomatoes with herbs and garlic baked under half a dozen or so fresh chicken thighs) and got me to the point where I can consistently do a single crochet.  It was lovely to see her, Darwin, and Rob.  Darwin is a mischievous lad but he really is good at keeping himself entertained, especially when all he got for his birthday was Lego.  You know, the really complicated ones meant for kids two years older than him and up.

People are still asking me how the cafe is going.  I wonder how many times I will have to patiently tell them that I’d rather talk about something else, like how fucking stupid they are.

I don’t have enough energy for the anti racism curriculum now that I’m working full time so I’ve emailed everybody and told them I don’t have the energy. It’ll be okay.

Not going to church this morning.  I feel rather disengaged.

Finally made biscotti again after a long hiatus.

I’m tired all the time.

“We live in an anocentric culture…everything runs in circles around assholes.”

I am not tone deaf I went to tonedeaftest.com.

I am grateful to be employed.

There are a LOT of dead rats down where I work.

Those two statements have little to do with each other, really.

I am full of happiness at how sunny the day was, how I am alive.

I grieve for the end of life of the mother of a friend.  I hope to see her soon, before she goes into hospice.

I send a kiss and a smile to a man I know, and the international call me sign to another.

Spring deliberates so briefly and then it comes on, flouncing in on a raindrop, hazy with pollen. There is a time when trees unpack themselves and fling themselves at the sun, deliberate as all get out, but by damn, they get there, and sequoias be your guide.

I’m expecting panic.  In the meantime, Steampunk of Mixed Ethnicity.

The sun on the snow yesterday – and the warmth, as it was quite warm – was a blessing after three straight days of snow.  I’m not used to shovelling  that much!

Jeff’s car is slowly going past that bourne from which no vehicle returns.  It’s certainly not safe for me to drive any more, so I have retreated from that endeavour.

Five hundred words yesterday.

The interview was interesting.  At the end of it I felt useless, stupid, dowdy, old and prehistoric.  But my test scores were great!  I wanted to slap some sense into the young thing I was talking to, but that doesn’t work even in the movies.  Then I locked myself in a stairwell.  So no, not exactly a good day.

Honest to Christ, I’m almost inclined to put my lumosity scores on my resume just to prove that I’m cognitively brighter than just about anybody.  The only real issue is speed – I’m not as fast as young people.  But in every other way, I blow doors off people younger than me. I won’t, it’s just another kind of bragging.

Found in the Toronto subway, safe for work. It’s a poster about alcoholism which somebody has marked up to mock Ford.

Today I will write, drink tea, eat leftovers, and ONCE MORE revise my goddamned resume to see if she’s right about it.  She made sure I knew that her time is much more important than mine, and that my resume is too much of a challenge for her.  And she is like all the rest, so she must be right, and I must need to stop feeling sorry for myself and just fix it.