So yesterday, Dad swung by my apartment around 1.45 and picked me, my old computer, and my new computer parts up. I had an Antec P180 case, an NEC DVD burner, and a new 80 gig hard drive to install.
We made our way to his office in Hackensack New Jersey and spread out to disassemble my old computer, which had been sitting open (due to overheating) in a cat-hair infested apartment for about 4 months. You can imagine the pure black gunk we found in the fans and heat sinks.
And it appears the county that Dad lives in�?� Closes everything food related on Sundays. Which is sad. Really sad. We could have used some compressed air. Alas, we sacrificed his office toothbrush to the cause and carefully dusted as much of that shit off as we could.
Pieces spread out on table tops, we tackled the P180. Which was a fine piece of machinery. Compartments, heating, the fucker can hold 6 hard drives easily. It was kind of sad�?� Since my equipment is 3 years old. I have an Athlon XP 1500, which is 1.33 ghz�?� a gig of ram (that�??s good), and a gigabyte 9550 radeon (that�??s pathetic). But for someone who plays WoW and the Sims as her staple games (and not even those right now, just the maximum I specced the 9550 to), it�??s really not a huge deal.
I�??ve got it all installed now, and itunes and shit works now, which is great, since my old interation of a computer didn�??t have a lot of useable programs since the data hard drive went down over the summer and kind of ruined the system. All the USB ports available don�??t work, but I think the mobo doesn�??t support them all�?� and it�??s kind of in the �??do I care?�?? category. I do wish the USB 2s worked in the slot that I didn�??t have to open the door to access�?� but since eric mainly uses USB 2�?� it�??s him that has to open the door. Not me.
And, of course, there was my GENIUS MOMENT of my computer putting togetherage. We took my old HD and were putting it in an enclosure to get the data off, since it had an OS on it and we didn�??t want to just shove it in the machine and confuse the boot drives. And all day I had been NEUROTIC about static�?� and then, as I shuffle across the carpet and lean down, I shock my hard drive. Like, hard enough to make my arm tingle. As I screamed and was cursing in agony, and my father was laughing at me, my data hard drive, still holding the remnants of my life, begins to click.
Yeah, it stopped, I got my shit off it, and right now it�??s in an anti-static bag if I ever need it again. But I mean, come on. Who in fuck�??s name does that? I�??m a fucking moron.
And that was my Sunday.
i realize, upon typing that, i sound like a fruitcake. but that's how i describe it. beyond joey, i think i can actually add david to that column. which means he is officially The First Friend I Made In New York.
for the rest, mosey on over to here: http://orbit.vect.org/?nycshack3 (thanks mike!)
my shackmeet saturday night. god bless sarah's soul for coming with me, although she didn't stay the whole time. god bless eric's soul, for coming with me. we played guitar hero, ds, some ddr till a neighbor told us to stop. we drank, ate pizza, talked. i left a bit after 1. and i think, by god, these people... they might be my friends, too.
i don't know how to quantify and qualify a "real friend", as i always seem to choose the wrong ones or somehow wreck that thread. i don't know if it matters if they consider you a "friend". i really don't think so. i don't know if it's one-on-one interaction, or face-to-face interaction, or if it really matters at ALL whether anyone agrees on your friend categories other than yourself. i'm of the latter opinion. since the age of the internets, i've counted my friends as friends, regardless of their form. can't say they've always been great choices, but whatever. live and learn.
so to nyc shackers, and david? i suppose i tip my hat. apparently, i categorize you as a gooberish-feeling glass globe.
which is a compliment.
in case you don't know, i'm down at my mother's till probably sunday night. i'm accessible, but of course, not really using tha internets.
i got the world's bestest present today, FO SHO, which i will unveil tomorrow when i have a digital camera.
shackers, you will appreciate. because a picture is worth a thousand fucking words.
roger doger, over and out.
i have to say, james blocke is my rock. like a little lego of awesome, i adore him.
we now know that he a. listens to played and b. likes strategy games. moreover, he's a shacker who appears to have at least at some point thought i might have dignity or clout. WHICH IS AWESOME IF HE IS A SHACKER AND KNEW ME BEFORE THIS BLOG.
also, he's stuck around, and commented, but yet not given into the two traps i laid seeking his identity on the shack AND the played forums. to have the will to stay back from those? you are a man of steel.
he has passed my IP checks, so even if he is a hoax, james blocke, you are now a 3D pixel fixture in the rendering of my life. when i think i'm too emo, when i think i'm getting in too deep, and mixing the internet worlds of myself together, stirring the pot, when i think "god, what if everyone in all realms of my life heard this? what then?" and i think of you.
but you know what? it's cool. you're cool. and my sister thinks you are cool. (here's a sidenote, sarah, in the ode to james blocke, an ode to you. you are the bestest ever. seriously. and i wouldn't be so downtrodden about how i think you think of me if i didn't always want to be the little overpriced diamond in your belly button which you haven't gotten since you are a lameass. which, in short, means that even if i think you judge me, really i think you are spectacular and you walk on water like jesus. who, according to a talkshow, has risen again and is trying to prove to the world he exists. which would be really fucking hard to do if you were jesus, you know? i mean, goddamn. anyway. i'm digressing, i love you.)
and james blocke? i love you too.
you little lego man, you.
so yesterday on the shack, people who went into macbook fulfillment on the 27th and 28th began getting their macbooks. i freak out, because i went into fulfillment on the 28th. i make mike leave at 6 pm (bless that man, seriously, he has the patience of a saint with me) to go see if we got anything.
apparently when he saw 2 ups slips on the door he was trying not to flip out himself. we tracked the package and it was an 11 pound something from Harrisburg PA. we decided it was nothing from my sister or from the coffee place, and since mike's laptop was 11 pounds shipped, it was a good chance it was my macbook.
so why was i not already at UPS? here's the crux: i was having dinner with dad, pam, and tim. at 7. and it was 6.40.
seriously, the ONLY REASON i didn't have mike miss dinner and pick it up was because i KNEW that was a REALLY SHITTY THING TO DO (and my father would yell at me and it's not worth that.)
so i sat through dinner, knowing i probably wouldn't get my macbook till monday because mike said the place closed at 8. but then at the end of dinner i called and they were open till 9.
we ran/bounced/gyrated our way to UPS.
the package came.
i kissed the man who gave it to me (not really).
i took it home and stripped it down.
we mad sweet, sweet love.
but in all seriousness, i was a macgirl back in the day. i remember my father giving me my performa when i was in 6th grade, throwing myself on the box and SCCCCREAMING. but, alas. father convinced me to get a gateway laptop in 9th grade because windows was more versatile.
but now mac has made a comeback. i can use this hot ass laptop for all my normal needs nad use my tricked out windows rig for gaming.
i'm still learning how to use it and i won't have all my software installed still i rendesvous with dad this weekend. but eddie spent a lot of time on ichat video with me teaching me all the tricks of optimization, and asked will help me more tonight/tomorrow.
by the way, it's pure sex.
mike, i adore you and owe you like. lots and lots of cupcakes. if cupcakes mean idol worship.
ugh. i'm pissed.
once i had a stepmother. i suppose she thought taking in 15 and 18 year old girls would be cake, and they would assimilate into her life easily. sadly, that didn't happen. she ended up kicking my sister out of the house, divorced my father messily and broke the news of that fact by telling me i couldn't come to my stepgrandfather's funeral or ever come home for christmas in a week, or ever again. never saw her, my dog, or stepsister ever again. she let me leave the presents in the mailbox.
anyway, she's a shitty novelist and now apparently a columnist for a newspaper. after years of silence, i guess she had a use for me:
q[Wine vinegar looks anemic after balsamic, and the water bottle has replaced the Thermos. We have calculators and laptops, iPods and Blueteeth. And we have lots of first days that we never had before, and never expected to have. We get downsized and relocated, we change jobs and careers, we leave the mommy track and then jump back on, we telecommute, we e-mail work everywhere. We marry and divorce. We acquire stepchildren and then lose them again.]q
thanks, lise, glad i was acquired. last time i checked, though, you didn't lose us. we got kicked out.
i reiterate my title. fuck you lisa. burn in hell.
it's weird to have to stop drinking and sit around and let everyone sober up, but honestly, i'm glad they do that.
by 2 am, everyone had left but chris remo and jake, who stayed talking business with me till... 4.30 am? yeah. when finally i looked at the clock and was like HOLY FUCK and they left.
woke up at 10 and felt like hell. sore throat, stuffy nose, headache, body ache. i'm like, fuckin great. but, we clean up and go to the MOST AWESOME farmer's market ever. like... jesus. 100 or more stalls? so we buy some yummy food, and then i come home and make homemade bacon and eggs and brusselsprouts, and then i passed out because i felt like hell.
i miss sarah, and i miss dad. but i have to say i don't miss my tiny apartment. i miss my old friends, i miss new york partying, but i really love my job and what i'm doing here. i don't relish paying for gas and my car, but i really do like it here.
anyway. here's a list of things that are good, and that i am thankful for.
- cats that sleep on my feet
- miso who sits in my lap when i work on the computer
- pancake who has a cute face (we shall add to this later when she does not whine at 6 am, is potty trained, and i am over her chewing through my laptop cord which cost $86 to replace)
- an awesome fucking job
- an awesome fucking bunch of coworkers
- a car that i think is really awesome
- two sisters, a father, and a mother who are really supportive and fun and kind and wonderful
- a group of friends that now pull from real life means so that when i use internet forums, i can use them just to bullshit, and not feel the need to socialize with the people that annoy me there because i have no other friends and/or means to socialize, thusly i have to see them
- being debt free
- having lost some weight and enjoying thoroughly working out
- being an excellent cook and really enjoying it (and having a really awesome kitchen and easy access to barbecuing)
- lots of sunshine and good weather in california
- cheap, amazing wine
- accessible flowers so that i always have blooms on my kitchen table
- an apartment big enough to HAVE a kitchen table
- a farmer's market
- access to a city with all the food i like, and a town with all the takeout i could desire
- a beach within day's driving distance (albeit perhaps shark infested)
- knowledge that, no matter what the hurtles, i am successful, surrounded by loving and supportive people, and saving money, and that each passing day, these things grow stronger, and the goals that i am shaping for my future are becoming more and more real and incredible
so if you call that seeing london, next time, i'll see it a bit more.
anyway, the point of my story is this: business class rocks, and everyone should try their damnedest to get free miles. i always thought miles were for free tickets, and i'm sure they are, but by god, man, maybe buying a coach ticket and upgrading to business is where it's at. especially on the SFO to NY or SFO to london trips i'll be taking. nevermind the czech republic. you get a printed menu, a fully extending BED of a seat, and a pretty amazing meal. and for my london trip when we got in i got access to a shower and a lounge where i could drink some actually decent coffee.
now, in comparison, coach class home on my 12 hour flight was not as godawful as you would think. i was on a window, and sure, the woman behind me thought it was heinously awful i put my seat back as far as it would go, complained to high heaven about how shitty i was for that, and kicked my seat every 20 minutes, but i snoozed, read, and played DS. and they served me this horrid chicken and rice thing, some crackers, and a pizza, and while that doesn't compare to warm nuts and salad and steak and a cheese plate, hey, at least they feed you, right?
well. no, actually. because at 4 am the next morning (the morning of thanksgiving, mind you, the morning i'm to cook a 17 pound turkey, stuffing, and gravy for all my friends) i'm on my knees wretching up all that so-called coach class airplane food. until about 9 am. and the horror of the food poisoning doesn't stop the entire day. yes, i went to the dinner, although i could barely walk until around 11:30, and probably shouldn't have gone (i'm a moron.) i didn't really cook, but sat around and had people do what i told them, which was pretty much the only way food was going to get put in the oven. well, my part at least.
in a roundabout way, i'm saying my thanksgiving was really fun, and the food turned out well, and yes i had to go home by 8 and was dead asleep by 9, but by friday i was fine. and in some ways, i suppose being sick on that holiday was nice, because i was in too much pain to miss mom until friday, and somehow it being friday, and not thursday, the day i thought i'd be spending with her, the first thanksgiving i'd have with her since i was 15... somehow being sick and not thinking about that was really good. being around all my friends playing rock band trying desperately to stay hydrated, that was good.
today i was sitting on the couch and mike was talking about the list of stuff he was asking for from his parents for christmas, and i said "get fallout and fable for me!" and he said, "i'm asking for fallout" and i reply "fable II also please, i want!" and he says "why don't you ask for it?" and i replied "i don't have anyone to give my presents anymore." and he just kind of looked at me, and i didn't mean it in a guilt trip, or a pity, or a sad kind of way. it was just that way. basically, these days, mom did the still-a-kid christmas. which adults don't need at all, but it's fun and awesome in its own way (albeit with its drawbacks, but that's mom.) but, of course, when i said it, and the beat set in, and he went back to his thing and i went back to mine, i realized i was trying desperately not to cry, and even typing this, i'm trying desperately not to cry.
the best coping is still not thinking about it, except in metered, measured doses, or when i'm alone, and sadly, always when i'm driving my car.
i wish i could ask her exactly why her gravy is always so much better than mine. i've gotten mine down to damned good, but it's this weird light beige color and it's just wrong. i have no idea what exactly she does that took it to this holy good god heaven of a gravy level.
i do not miss her waldorf salad, not a bit. mayo as a dressing always weirded me out.
but i really miss her.