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Showing posts with label lappy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lappy. Show all posts
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After These Messages...

PSA: Having a one year old open your laptop like a book, plant his butt on the keyboard and slap the screen like it's whack-a-mole results in a fair amount of computer troubles.

On a related note, I can't do any photo editing and I'm spending all day reinstalling everything I've ever installed, so I bring you the only thing I had on my desktop:

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wtfbbq

So, um. They didn't kill Sly, they just messed with his head. Now, to turn him on I have to press the Windows key and the power at the same time. First of all - whuh? Second of all - how the hell does Ryan figure this shit out? (Although, I did always wonder wtf that key was for.)

Ps. Were I one of those super cool bloggers with throngs of adoring fans, I would use this as an opportunity to recommend that you all run - don't walk - to see Shoebox Shakespeare at Willamette University (this weekend only) because it is of teh awesome. But, since I'm well... not... I guess I'm just saying: Mom and Dad, go see it!
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*Sniffle*

Sylvester had a little accident that resulted in the loss of a USB port. (I swear - the poor fella is as sturdy as Christmas china. Jeeze.) I tried to exist for a while with only one port, and it wasn't too much of a hassle. Ideally, I'd have three, but I can survive with one. And really, I don't mind the indent shapped like my hand that has appeared on the palm-rest. Which is why, when Ryan suggested we send Sly off to meet his maker, I said, "NO!!!!!!!!! Please don't take my baby, please don't take my baby!"

Next time, I'll have to squeeze out some tears, because the begging and pleading didn't do the trick.

Sly was scooped up by the delivery man on Monday and in the interim I've been using the Lt. Colonel. This little airman is a bit fussy, but he means well and he can open a Word document as well as the next laptop, so we get along nicely. I totally owe Lauren for my sanity these past few days.

Even though I've had a substitute - a piece of me was always longing for Sly. He's got my bookmarks, he's got Firefox (who knew I would become dependent on tabbed browsing), he's got Photoshop and - let's be honest - a little piece of my heart. So, when the DHL delivery man came knocking on my door this morning I was absolutely ecstatic (as evidenced by the fact that my signature on the little electronic device looks less like my name and more like the flight path of a drunken bee). I tore him out of the box and threw open the lid. With a fond caress, I hit the power button.

Nothing.

Hmm. Perhaps the battery isn't charged.

I plugged it in and pressed the button.

Nothing.

Pressed it again.

Nothing.

Tapped my toe impatiently for twenty minutes. Pressed it again.

Nothing.

OMG! THEY KILLED SLY!

ETA: Yeah like normal people are supposed to know that you have to turn the battery on. Function F3, my ass.
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Sly

Oh, Sylvester.

/shakes head

Sylvester and I haven’t known each other all that long. It’s been a little over a year since this Dell was FedEx’d into my life and in that short time we’ve had a fair amount of trauma.

I take full responsibility for the first incident. It was my clumsiness that resulted in his premature gutting and refacing… but he was “as good as new!”

After the Cider Slider we’ve had a few hiccups. Mostly along the lines of frozen screens and burnt wrists. Maybe I ask too much of him. I know he’s not a gaming machine, and I certainly have learned that he needs his cool-down time… and sometimes I deny him that. But, in the end, I feel that what I take from him I more than return in appreciation and adoration.

So why am I here today writing my blog on Ryan’s computer? Why has he failed me?

If only I knew.

It started as a few error screens on start-up. Then, yesterday, a day like any other, he froze and I rebooted. The error screen returned but this time – it wouldn’t start. Nine, ten successive restarts resulted in a variety of blank screens, error messages and prompts… but never anything past the desktop wallpaper. Once I saw a mouse, but couldn’t make it dance. And so, the good people of Dell were notified.

I’m not exactly sure what was happening on the other end of the phone line but from where I was sitting I got the impression that Ryan was talking to a dog.

“No,” he said loudly and clearly.

“No. NO.”

There would be noise on the other end and then Ryan would respond just as forcefully, “yes.”

I think I liked it better when you just had to press numbers.

The phone did a few basic tricks and we were all rewarded with the entrance of Sandra.

English is not Sandra’s first language and computer is not mine. I assure you that if I had to deal with this without Ryan’s assistance it would be frightful at best. After managing to communicate our issue, Sandra told Ryan to reboot and press a series of keys which resulted in some odd diagnostic screen that I didn’t know existed. It’s as if he delved into the depths of Sly and found a side I had yet to dust off. At first I was impressed… but then came the test.

Sandy instructed Ryan to run some sort of test of the hard drive to check for errors. She informed him that it could take 25-30 minutes and so he should put her on speaker-phone and go about his business. We thought this was a little odd, but did as instructed, moving about the room as ghosts in the night as the phone sat on the desk – a microphone. When Ryan wanted my attention he would clear his throat and motion to me. I’d head across the room and he’d whisper in my ear, anxious not to let Sandra hear our business. After about thirty minutes her voice broke through the silence.

“Hello, Sir. Sir, are you there?”

Ryan jumped up and snatched the phone, informing Sandra that we were only 9% into the test.

“Yes,” she confirmed, “takes long time. Relax. Put on speaker-phone.”

We did as instructed – or as close as we could come to relaxing with the phone sitting ominously on the desktop, connecting us with Sandra’s ear.

Thirty minutes later:

“Hello, Sir. Sir, are you there?”

This test was not progressing as quickly as we had been told it would. She informed us that it takes time and she would wait. Ryan suggested that maybe since this looked like it was going to take hours we would get her number and call her when it was done. Apparently, the instruction manual does not allow her to abandon the customer mid-test.

This went on until about four in the morning and the three of us were on edge. Ryan tried again to ask Sandra if perhaps he could go to bed and call her in the morning. She told him that she wanted to give it fifteen more minutes and then we would reevaluate the situation.

“Get comfortable. Get coffee,” she suggested.

A while later, we reevaluated and she decided to let us go to bed. She said she would call us back in the morning.

“What time I call?”

“How about ten pacific?”

“Earlier.”

“Eight?”

“You be awake?”

“Yeah, we’ll get up.”

“It is four in the morning?”

“Yeah, it is.”

She told us she’d call at eight to check on the status of the test and we thankfully headed to bed.

It’s a little before nine and the test has finally concluded but Sandra has not called and the extension she gave us is “no longer in service.”

Again, Ryan speaks to the dog.

“No. NO. No. Yes. No.”

We’ve got human life now and from what I can hear it speaks fluent English. He’s clicking buttons and now yet another side of Sylvester is revealed. Who knew he had so many sides.

HOLD.

THE.

PHONE.

The prompt that just hit the screen actually made my stomach churn.

“Press OK to continue. All data will be lost. If you do not wish to continue Cancel now.”

/weep openly

Mr. All American Tech Support has cavalierly stated that we are to continue with the restoration.

There’s a buzzing in my head and a sickness forming in my stomach. I can’t think of anything on my computer that I’m going to miss, and I’m wondering if it’s some sort of defense mechanism. Perhaps I’ve erased the existence of anything pertinent that I may have created in the past year.

Yeah, it was a defense mechanism.

It’s all flooding back.

I don’t feel so good.

In the background I hear Ryan telling Techie that he works in the entertainment industry and that he’s headed to law school… I’d ask wth he’s doing but I need to get back in bed.

Oh, Sylvester.
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Oh The Horror

Recipe for Disaster:

1 Brand-spankin’ new laptop
1 cup chilled apple cider
A dash of stupidity
A pinch of clumsiness

Make sure cup of cider is filled to the brim in order to produce maximum damage. Place cup on desk between mouse and laptop. Add stupidity. Add clumsiness.

If successful, your disaster should include:

Immediate loss of power, complete with satisfying hiss
The grip of fear with a chokehold on your heart
Nervous sweating
Hysterical crying
Phone calls that begin, "I [sob] had [sob] an accident [sob]"

Once complete you will need to replace:

System Board
Video Card
CD/DVD Drive
Keyboard
Palmrest
Base Cover
Center Cover
Your Mind

Possible side effect:

Loss of taste for apple cider

Guaranteed result:

Loss of computer for two weeks
Unceasing guilt and self-castigation

A/N: Sylvester is now back up and running. Thank you to the beautiful people and the massive size of Dell. Without the labryinth that is the support line, I would be lost forever.
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Rest In Peace

*R.I.P.*
Inspy the Inspiron
She was loved and fingered daily


We come together today to mourn the loss of a dear friend, companion and … well, that’s pretty much it. She was a hard worker and a reliable source of facts, fiction, fun and pharmaceutical refills (close enough). I loved her. I loved her with every bone in my body – especially the phalanges. She stuck with me through my weekly reviews, my senior thesis, and my obsession with fanfiction. I stuck with her through bad LCDs, malfunctioning keys, poor connections, the loss of the “i”, the down, the touchpad, and finally, the power button. Her death came swiftly, though she hung in there long enough that I could jam a chip in her and suck out all necessary information. I thank her for that.

I wrote this little poem in her memory, which I would like to read now.

There once was a purple Inspiron
Everyday over her I would fawn.
I loved her like a child
The abuse, it was mild
But now she will no longer turn on.

Deus spiritus suckmytoos please keep her safe.

Amen.

*Cue Eva Cassidy singing Songbird*

For you there'll be no crying
For you the sun will be shining
‘Cause I feel that when I'm with you
It's alright, I know it's right

And the songbirds keep singing
Like they know the score
And I love you, I love you, I love you
Like never before

(instrumental)

To you, I would give the world
To you, I'd never be cold
‘Cause I feel that when I'm with you
It's alright, I know it's right

And the songbirds keep singing
Like they know the score
And I love you, I love you, I love you
Like never before

Like never before; like never before.


[Allie starts sobbing and must be escorted to the limo by Ryan and Lauren (who just blew her nose in the handkerchief). As they leave, Adam and Dad (in their scout uniforms – as a sign of respect) carefully fold the flag and lower the lid to the recycle bin.]
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Fallen

Because of lack of desktop space paired with my tendency to use my computer up until the point of total and utter exhaustion, I don’t store my laptop on a counter. Instead, I place it on the floor beside the bed. A while ago, Ryan stepped on it by accident, breaking my USB port clean off. He felt horrible, and went to buy me an adapter, so that I would not miss my now dysfunctional port. He’s sweet like that. We all know that it was my fault the laptop was damaged… I mean, how stupid do you have to be to store your computer on the floor? Right, anyway, he felt guilty about it and still does. So I use this guilt to poke at him. Almost daily, when Ryan is walking around the room, I like to remind him not to step on my laptop. Each time that I call out, “Don’t step on my laptop!” he looks at me with puppy eyes and shakes his head in shame. It’s really quite entertaining. You should try it.

Well, today I did something that will forever end my small source of joy – I dropped it. That’s right. I was holding my laptop in my hands, wandering around the room with the wireless card aimed to the sky searching in vain for the neighbor’s signal when my foot stepped on the cord and yanked my four-year old antiquated baby slamming it into the hardwood floor. I could have cried. Luckily, Inspy takes a licking and keeps on ticking… and is currently no worse for the wear. The only thing bruised and battered is my ego, as it only happened twenty minutes ago, but Ryan has already told me “Don’t drop your laptop!” ten times.

Celebrity sighting – Ryan and I saw Laurie Metcalf today at the Halloween store. Does she still count as a celebrity? We’re 99% positive it was her, anyway… but there is no way to be 100% unless you ask and, well, we all know I’d never ask. I did, however, try to get a look at her bank card as she handed it to the cashier. The only thing I managed to find out was that she was a Citibank user. They print those names so freaking small. Dangnabit.

What is this thing with Drive Thru’s having the windows on the passenger’s side? Who thought that up? I don’t approve. What happens if you don’t have a passenger? I have yet to experience that, but I can’t imagine it’s pretty. I can just picture having to lean over the gear shift, the passenger seat, out the window and bridge the gap between my car and the drive thru lady’s outstretched arms. Please. Sometimes I can’t even reach when it’s on the driver’s side. I hereby vow never to go to a passenger Drive Thru by my self for sheer fear of humiliation. I just know that I’d be the dork that actually had to get out of the car and walk around.
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Honk if You Read My Blog

Ryan and I were driving to Kinko’s last night, unaware that it was “bad driver night” here in LA. Bring me your crazies, psychos and just plain oblivious masses… and put them behind the wheel. Holy buckets, we saw three very close calls in the five-minute drive to the photocopy superstore. So, when we parked and exited the car I was not surprised to be bombarded by the shrill honking of countless horns. As I walked to the front door, however, I was really starting to worry. I mean, this was the sound of a whole lot of horns… all honking repeatedly. So, I hesitantly went around the corner to peer at the crash site or the duck in the road – whatever had caused this cacophony. When my eyes finally fell upon the scene I actually bust up laughing and considered running back to Ryan’s car and joining in the honk-fest. Turns out there was a make-shift Kerry rally going on. The busy intersection teemed with Kerry fans asking to “Honk 4 Kerry” and “Honk for Change.” The more original participants were bearing signs like “Asses of Evil,” “Dubya, We’re Gonna Dump Ya,” and “4 More Wars.” My personal favorite – “Smush Bush!” Anyway, I snapped a few pictures, but they didn’t really come out. All I could salvage were a few signs… here’s one:



The highlight of the evening was when we left Kinko’s and turned the corner, away from the honking masses, and there was a little Pro-Bush group trying to out-yell the swarm of Kerry fans. There were probably ten of them, and they obviously did not come prepared. It looked as though they had uprooted lawn signs. No creativity. Tsk, tsk. Poor little kids were turning blue they were shouting so hard over the cheering and the honking. Almost felt sorry for them. Then I remembered that they were voting for BUSH.

Got a job today. Well, sort of. It got a job for November 13th. It’s a one-day gig… but I take what I can get and one-day is certainly better than no-day. So WOOO HOOO for me. And woo hoo for the fact that Matt and Patti’s neighbors own their own production company.

I bought a button online today. Don’t know when I became politically outspoken, but I guess some of this stuff just really gets my goat and I want people to know that I think some things are crappy. This is what the button has on it:



Turns out I’ve overused my left control key on my laptop. I learned this the hard way, of course. I’m an avid cut-and-paste person, so I use the ‘control c’ shortcut. For the third time in a row I ‘control c’d an entire paragraph and it turned into just a little ‘c’. In Word, this would not be a problem as I could ‘control z’ myself right out of it… but when in text boxes online – there is no ‘control z.’ This makes me not happy. I have been relegated to using my right control button. It’s really more trying than you think.

Oh, yeah – SMUSH BUSH.
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The Fam

Ryan and Allie
Cael | 10
Finn | 8
Declan | 6

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