what’s this internet addiction of which you speak?

In another airport. I’m starting to like the airports, really. Maybe it’s like that thing that happens with kidnapping victims when they fall in love with their kidnappers and they fight against all odds, the police, and a world that just doesn’t understand to make it work in this crazy life. Or maybe that was a movie.

Anyway, the airport lounge is rather peaceful, and even though they only have tiny sandwiches, they cut off the crusts, which is thoughtful, and they have cheese, and most of the time, they even have Internet access. As I’ve mentioned before, I don’t think free wireless is a God-given right, although I do think that wireless of some kind is a bit like drinking fountains and bathrooms. I mean, my God, why wouldn’t it be there?

Today’s wireless was like this: First, I tried using the shiny new wireless card I got from work. When they gave it to me, one of the techs asked the other, “doesn’t this need a driver or something.” The other tech waved him away. No, it just works. Fantastic! Only it didn’t just work, but I managed to track down the software online earlier today when I was at home. So, I started it up, ready for wireless everywhere! A brave new world! Only it wanted a username and password. Which I definitely didn’t have. I tried a few things only to have it stop recognizing the wireless card altogether. But rather than spend fruitless time trying to debug that problem, I checked out what other wireless was available. The lounge has access you can pay for (which makes me miss the free wireless at the Alaska lounge, but Alaska doesn’t fly to Europe, so what can I do, really), so I hopped on that. Only I didn’t because of some DHCP problem. I asked the desk guy, who told me to try the free airport wireless. I found that, only to get a weak signal error. No problem. This lounge has free workstations. So, I hopped on one of those. It was rather nice actually — back in a corner, surrounded by books. It was hard wired in and was working great. For a while. Until it stopped working altogether. The guy in the workstation across from me looked up. Does your internet work? Not so much.

Fortunately, my blackberry rescued me. It was a good thing too, since it had mercilessly let me down yesterday by refusing to work at all mid-conversation. It deceitfully gave the appearance of working, with its signal bars and logged in green ball and web of lies. I eventually beat it into submission by removing the battery and thinking mean thoughts about it. But it redeemed itself today as the one internet option of five that actually worked.

I’ve finally managed to get the 6 pound an hour wireless working, just moments before I have to board, and it brings a brightness to my day. After all, it’s letting me write. Nothing wrong with that.

I remember life without the Internet, certainly. But I don’t make me go back.

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