For a while, Michael and I thought we were imagining it.  Separately, we thought that we had somehow both begun to smell funky, kind of oldish and stale, like a room long closed in a humid climate. 

The good news is that it is neither of us who smell but our washing machine.  The bad news is that we didn't have a clue as to how to fix it. So I did what everyone does these days:  I googled it.  Before I started reading,   I imagined that it would take the Maytag repairman and his crew of minions to fix it.  Hundreds of dollars later, we'd finally smell like the living again.  But no.  The trick is baking powder, then white vinegar (not together, separate loads).  And leave the washing machine lid open when not in use.

Case solved.

The next mystery involved my dear Roomba (my robot vacuum cleaner).  Yes, we are on Roomba number three, all sorts of sad things happening to my other two.  Brush death, really, is the common culprit.  But since Roombas come with a warranty, I've been flush in Roombas until next month when the warranty runs out.

In any case, I found my poor Roomba backed up against a wall in the bedroom, blinking red.  He seemed scared, did Roomba, and we had a nice chat and I decided that all he really needed was to be recharged.

But the next day, I put Mr. Roomba down for his daily spin, and nothing.  Red light, sad sounds.  Well, I decided to investigate, and I turned him over and lo and behold, he was crammed full of a pair of my underwear.  Yikes!  So I pulled the underwear out of his grasp (he and I need to do some therapy) and set him on his way.  The good news is that the underwear survived the battle as well.

Case solved.

There are mysteries in my house I'm still working on.  One is exactly how to use the DVD player downstairs. There is a lot going on down there, and I approach the system warily, circling the TV slowly before sitting down to stare at the four remote controls.  I can turn on the TV (and thus the Direct TV).  But I am unclear about how to play a DVD.  Actually, I can't play one upstairs, either. 

I think I'll stick to on-demand movies and Netlfix only when Michael is home.

Case unsolved.

The next mystery involves this very computer I'm typing on.  When I changed my name at school, everything went wacko, at every school.  Suddenly (and I mean suddenly, not just a cheesy adverb), I could no longer log onto my online course sites at UCLA or DVC and at DVC, I could no longer plug into the internet.  They had no idea who I was.

I managed to get this computer up and running, but it really didn't know who I was. J Inclan has her own files now, and J Barksdale is the "My" in "My Documents."  J Barksdale is taking over slowly, but how to integrate the two into one person?  Michael talks about re-imaging the computer, but that would involve taking it in to the scary little computer office.  So I use the old computer at my office, where I've managed to sign in and stay signed in.

Case unsolved.

That's it for the mysteries today, folks.  Stay tuned for more excitement as the gadgets unfold!

Jessica