So my computer finally cracked.
I'm in the library right now. The LIBRARY. On one of the Look-Up-Books-Here computers, with the huge, grimy keyboards that stick funny and catch your fingers if you try to type at anything remotely resembling a reasonable speed. OH, THE INDIGNITY...!
Yeah, the backlight on my laptop seems to have given up the ghost once and for all. Well, it was trying, but all efforts failed. I'm going to try to take it in to one or many of the computer stores within walking distance after class.
I really shouldn't bother going to class, seeing as how this whole disaster thing efficiently prevented me from printing out the essay for said class, which I was up until three working on. Lovely little sequence of events, that. Positively charming.
Anyway, the Computer Gods alone know when I'll be able to get on. Sometimes the screen works when it feels like it, and it might be inclined this afternoon, but I'm just going to lug it in today. I just can't have a computer that works unpredictably. That would result in a great deal of failure of classes.
Yeah, so... Peace out, kids. I'll be back ASAP. Hopefully sooner rather than later, before I lose my little mind.
So my computer finally cracked.
Yeah, so, there are these kids, see, who are in Africa, see, who are starving. And I'm sitting here bitching because it'll probably take a day or two to get my computer back.
I ARE TEH INGRATEZORZ.
Anyways... dropped my baby off with some computer folks who said they'd look at it and call me with a free estimate before the day's out. So long as this emergency surgery costs less than the price of the entire machine, and provided that they can get my honeybun into the E.R. in a timely fashion, they've got themselves a sale, damn it. That thing is my life. Pathetically sad but true.
I'm slightly concerned on behalf of my music and my pictures, which exist nowhere else, but even if the procedure is unexpectedly invasive and wipes my hard-drive and destroys everything I care about, I'm pretty sure I'm not going to lose any writing, because it's all either backed up on external disks or sent to eltea, because that is the Tierfal Way.
Nonetheless, it's a right pain in the patootie.
...did I really just type that in a semi-public place? Heavens.
In other news, I ran into the director of the play I was in last semester outside of Longs, so we stood there talking for ten minutes or so, me holding my gallon of milk the whole time. Yeah. It was legit. That man gives hugs that make you fear for the safety of your ribs.
I think I'll attempt to type up some of the bazillion pages of written fic the weekend's train trips yielded. It shall be emailed to myself in proper semi-kewl fashion.
I'm not sure whether I'm optimistic today, or just on crack. The jury seems to be out on that one. Not that that's unusual in my case...
I wrote the gospel on giving up
(You look pretty sinking)
But the real bombshells have already sunk
(Prima donnas of the gutter)
At night, we're painting your trash gold
While you sleep
Crashing not like hips or cars
No, more like p-p-p-parties
- "This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race" - Fall Out Boy -