Blog Relocated.

I have relocated my personal blog to LiveJournal, since Blogger has yet to offer acceptable security features.

If you'd like to read my personal blog, just leave a comment on this entry with either your LiveJournal username, or an email address if you don't have a LiveJournal account. I will send you an invitation or a link to my blog. Thanks!

(Oh, and for your peace of mind, once I have added you to my personal blog, I will delete your comment with your information on it from this blog.)

-Bree

Adventures With A Vacuum

I vacuum nearly every day of the week. It's my most used appliance, other than my tea maker. It's my finishing touch to the daily routine of chores I do to tidy up or clean the house. It's also my favorite chore, if I had to pick one.

So imagine my disappointment when in the midst of vacuuming, I felt something snap inside the vacuum, and it stopped working. Judging from the feel of the snap, I guessed it was a belt. So I flip the vacuum over and take the plastic casing off the bottom, unscrewing four screws. Easy enough. When I checked it out, it turns out I was right. Pieces of the belt fell out and I was able to pull the rest of it out.

At first I thought I'd have to take it to a vacuum repair shop. But then I was told that I could simply replace the belt myself, that many people did it on a regular basis. Apparently, this is part of regular vacuum maintenance. I didn't know this because not once in my 16 years of vacuum operation experience did I ever have to replace a belt. So thus began my journey into the jungle that is Vacuum Belt Replacement.

First, I spent two days scouring various stores for JUST the right belt. It had to be a very particular kind for my vacuum. When I finally found it, bought it, and took it home, I tossed it on the already-partially dismantled vacuum and left it there for later.

Upon my return, I was confident that I would have this pesky belt replaced in no time. I sat down on the living room floor next to the vacuum, with enough gung-ho to practically will it into place. Unfortunately I am not quite skilled in the art of telekinesis, so I had to pick up tools and get to work.

Once I started, I realized that this was not going to be as easy as I thought. So I searched the house from top to bottom for the owner's manual, and it was nowhere to be found. I went back to the vacuum for further examination and creation of a battle plan to remove the casing so I could get to the belt parts. I then gathered together more tools and spent the next 3 hours unscrewing and re-screwing a dozen or so different screws, trying this and that to see if it'd accomplish easier access to the belt parts. Several of these attempts were accompanied by swear words, shrieks of pain, shaking the vacuum, a couple of whacks, and 4 broken nails. Nothing worked.

I believe in the course of this time period, I dismantled nearly the entire vacuum, right down to the motor. More than a dozen vacuum parts lay scattered around me and the vacuum's carcass. Sitting there amidst the carnage in a state of frustrated confusion, a light-bulb went off in my head. I'd suddenly remembered where the owner's manual was: in the closet where we kept the vacuum. The one place I didn't look. Can you say DOH!?

After retrieving the owner's manual in less than 20 seconds, I returned to the living room to survey the ruins of the futile war I had waged upon my previously trusty appliance. I examined the instructions for changing out the belt which basically read like this:

1. Remove bottom plastic casing (already did this a long time ago)
2. Set vacuum in flat mode (so that it lays flat on the ground)
3. Flip vacuum over so that bottom is facing upwards
4. Put belt on these two pulley type contraptions. That's it.

**Cue music to fit frustrated mood***

So, I set to work spending the next hour and a half putting the vacuum back together, cursing the needless trouble I'd spent what felt like half of my day on. Finally the vacuum was back together, and I said a quick prayer: "God, please let me have put this back together right. Don't let it like, blow up or something..."

Finally, I flip the wretched thing on the floor as the instructions said, and realized that I was going to have to put that stupid rubber belt on the hard way. There wasn't a way to remove the casing to get to it easier. To make things worse, the belt was smaller than what it had to cover. Much smaller. So, imagine trying to stretch a 2 by 1/4 inch thick rubber band the size of a bracelet over the rim of a tractor.

More swear words, a few snapping sounds followed by louder swear words and shrieks of pain, more shaking and a kick to the vacuum, a rubber belt flying across the room a couple of times, one loud frustrated "ARGGHHH!!!", two blisters, 45 minutes and 5 more broken nails later, the belt was finally on. In a wild-eyed elated fury complemented by evil-sounding laughter that accompanies a triumph, I finished putting the rest of the vacuum back together.

Now, the test. I plug it in. I poise the vacuum so that the leftovers from the carnage are in it's path. I push the on lever and...

*drum roll*

IT WORKS!!! IT WORKS IT WORKS IT WORKS! I FIXED IT! I AM QUEEN FIX-IT!

So here I was gloriously vacuuming my carpet once again, red-faced, drenched in sweat, all my nails broken, and hands black with dirt and oil, hair messed up beyond recognition and best of all, a great big grin. I had conquered my traitorous appliance, once and for all.

And from all of this, I learned one very important lesson:

Never try to fix a broken vacuum while under the influence of PMS.