I'm sorry everyone. I know I haven't updated in a while. But I have a really good reason.
It all started last Wednesday night, when I went to turn on my computer and got this message against a black screen:
"There has been a disk read error. Press Ctl. + Alt. + Del. to restart."
I did this, and got the same screen almost immediately.
After about five more panicked tries, I called home. For a half hour, I was crying to my parents about how I can't NOT have a computer AGAIN and to make a long story short there were many tears and I was very upset. But I eventually was able to fall asleep after writing out my science writing homework on a page of notebook paper (geez, when was the last time I did that?).
The next day I brought my computer into the good ol' Student Computer Repair Center, where they immediately told me that it was my hard drive. AGAIN. I told them that they had just replaced my hard drive in November, how could it POSSIBLY be broken? He told me it was probably defective. Fantastic. But he also told me that I could call them and get something called an Advanced RMA, and they'd send me another hard drive for free. So this I did. And found out I needed to go BACK to the SCRC and have them find the serial number on the actual hard drive. So after all this, and a fairly long conversation with some dude in India, I now have my hard drive at my house. If only I had the operating system disk and Microsoft Suite... that's on its way too. Hopefully.
I can't wait to get a Mac.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Thursday, January 15, 2009
No one tells me anything.
This is a conversation that happened on Sunday night at 11:30 p.m.
Mom: Are you working tomorrow?
Me: No, I'm not.
Mom: Good. So then you're coming to the funeral with us?
Me: WHO DIED?!
Apparently my Auntie Louise died and no one told me. Until late the NIGHT BEFORE THE FUNERAL. Oh, and did I mention she died on Wednesday? That is almost an ENTIRE WEEK after the fact.
So I got to see my first dead body.
The next morning I entered the church with my family, and sawthe open casket in the distance. I quickly turned to my brother and said, "Oh God, I've never been to a wake before..." I'd only been to my grandfather's funeral, and my parents wouldn't let us kids go to the wake, which I have to say I'm thankful for. I wouldn't have wanted my last glimpse of my grandpa to be when he was dead. I like to remember him like he was when he was alive, not like how I'll probably remember Auntie Louise now. I mean, she was 92 years old, so it was probably her time to go, but it was still sad.
The day got slightly better when the der hayr went off on his crazy eulogy that made me make a face at my brother more than once during the ceremony, and the deacon's awesome heavy Worcester accent (like a Boston one) made us crack smiles we quickly tried to hide.
I don't know if you know this, but my family is loud. During the eulogy when the der hayr said something funny, my dad let out this staccato (and slightly delayed) "HA!" which made me and my entire immediate family look at him in alarm. Then Nishan and I tried not to laugh too hard. I mean, after all, we were at a funeral.
So after all this and the short ceremony at the cemetery, we went to a lovely luncheon served in an ice-cold church rec hall that was an event hall, a basketball court, and a theater all in one. And more of the loudness that is my family ensued. Because, you know, both of my dad's brothers were there too, not to mention all of the cousins on the Ovian side. I'm surprised no one lost their voice.
Ah, family functions. If we have this much fun at a funeral, you can only imagine what my graduation party will be like.
Mom: Are you working tomorrow?
Me: No, I'm not.
Mom: Good. So then you're coming to the funeral with us?
Me: WHO DIED?!
Apparently my Auntie Louise died and no one told me. Until late the NIGHT BEFORE THE FUNERAL. Oh, and did I mention she died on Wednesday? That is almost an ENTIRE WEEK after the fact.
So I got to see my first dead body.
The next morning I entered the church with my family, and sawthe open casket in the distance. I quickly turned to my brother and said, "Oh God, I've never been to a wake before..." I'd only been to my grandfather's funeral, and my parents wouldn't let us kids go to the wake, which I have to say I'm thankful for. I wouldn't have wanted my last glimpse of my grandpa to be when he was dead. I like to remember him like he was when he was alive, not like how I'll probably remember Auntie Louise now. I mean, she was 92 years old, so it was probably her time to go, but it was still sad.
The day got slightly better when the der hayr went off on his crazy eulogy that made me make a face at my brother more than once during the ceremony, and the deacon's awesome heavy Worcester accent (like a Boston one) made us crack smiles we quickly tried to hide.
I don't know if you know this, but my family is loud. During the eulogy when the der hayr said something funny, my dad let out this staccato (and slightly delayed) "HA!" which made me and my entire immediate family look at him in alarm. Then Nishan and I tried not to laugh too hard. I mean, after all, we were at a funeral.
So after all this and the short ceremony at the cemetery, we went to a lovely luncheon served in an ice-cold church rec hall that was an event hall, a basketball court, and a theater all in one. And more of the loudness that is my family ensued. Because, you know, both of my dad's brothers were there too, not to mention all of the cousins on the Ovian side. I'm surprised no one lost their voice.
Ah, family functions. If we have this much fun at a funeral, you can only imagine what my graduation party will be like.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
What has my life become: a walk with Virgil. I think this might be somewhere between the sixth and seventh circle of Hell.
So a few days ago, I registered on Goodreads.com in an attempt to find an online community in which I could participate (it gets frustrating reading the comments of tweens and knowing that you can't tell them to get a goddamn brain). As I added books I've read and surfed the site a bit, I came across a few lists. One was Best Young Adult Books Ever or something like that, and being the children's lit nut that I am, I clicked myself on over to see what was up. Imagine my horror when I saw Twilight was at the top of the list, above A Wrinkle in Time, The Giver, Island of the Blue Dolphins, Holes, and various other great and timeless children's novels. I wrote a comment about Twilight being up there. This sealed my fate.
I soon got an e-mail alert that someone named Sara had replied to the thread. Her response: "=0 you mean you don't like twilight????"
I responded that yes, that is what I meant. As if I hadn't been clear enough.
This soon led to a debate between me, Sara, and a kid named Carter about the merits and/or enormous flaws in the series. Of course, I was the one who was the opposition. And so this argument went on for a few days (I'm ashamed to admit it's still going on -- I just posted another response), with Sara telling me that "SHE LOOOOVVVES HIMM" and that they were meant for each other and that she loves him more than her own life blah blah blah blah. Yeah, that's a GREAT thing to be teaching young girls. "It's okay to COMPLETELY SHUT DOWN when your boyfriend leaves you." Outstanding job, Stephenie Meyer.
Yesterday night was my realization that Twilight has completely taken over my life, in a totally different way from how it takes over the obsessed tweens that frequent beaconstreetgirls.com. I can't escape it. I saw the movie last night for educational purposes (I had expected more than what I got to be honest, wasn't too fond of it; I did a lot of eye-rolling and if the theater had been empty I would have fake-vomited at some parts), as the movie ties in with two of my jobs (BSG and B&N). I can't get through five posts at BSG.com without encountering a fanatic 12-year-old (or younger) foaming at the mouth about how Edward Cullen is "sooooo hot" (by the way I have to edit "hot" to read "cute" too many times to count) and how Twilight is the best book in the entire world (this makes me sick -- what would Jane Austen and Charles Dickens and Sophocles and the Bronte sisters say to that?). And now, here I am, arguing with two kids about it. I found out last night that Sara is 11 freaking years old. What the hell. What am I doing??? I'm going completely insane, that's what. God help me and my independent study on teen vampire fiction next semester.
I soon got an e-mail alert that someone named Sara had replied to the thread. Her response: "=0 you mean you don't like twilight????"
I responded that yes, that is what I meant. As if I hadn't been clear enough.
This soon led to a debate between me, Sara, and a kid named Carter about the merits and/or enormous flaws in the series. Of course, I was the one who was the opposition. And so this argument went on for a few days (I'm ashamed to admit it's still going on -- I just posted another response), with Sara telling me that "SHE LOOOOVVVES HIMM" and that they were meant for each other and that she loves him more than her own life blah blah blah blah. Yeah, that's a GREAT thing to be teaching young girls. "It's okay to COMPLETELY SHUT DOWN when your boyfriend leaves you." Outstanding job, Stephenie Meyer.
Yesterday night was my realization that Twilight has completely taken over my life, in a totally different way from how it takes over the obsessed tweens that frequent beaconstreetgirls.com. I can't escape it. I saw the movie last night for educational purposes (I had expected more than what I got to be honest, wasn't too fond of it; I did a lot of eye-rolling and if the theater had been empty I would have fake-vomited at some parts), as the movie ties in with two of my jobs (BSG and B&N). I can't get through five posts at BSG.com without encountering a fanatic 12-year-old (or younger) foaming at the mouth about how Edward Cullen is "sooooo hot" (by the way I have to edit "hot" to read "cute" too many times to count) and how Twilight is the best book in the entire world (this makes me sick -- what would Jane Austen and Charles Dickens and Sophocles and the Bronte sisters say to that?). And now, here I am, arguing with two kids about it. I found out last night that Sara is 11 freaking years old. What the hell. What am I doing??? I'm going completely insane, that's what. God help me and my independent study on teen vampire fiction next semester.
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