Technological Struggle and Woe: Part 100,000

For anyone I haven't talked to recently... that's because I don't have a computer and I've had to rely on the science center lab for the last few days. The good news is that my laptop should *theoretically* be back from HP services in the town of whoknowswhere in the midwest by this Tuesday or Wednesday. Woot.

But you might say: "what about your netbook? Don't be that girl who wants a big laptop or nothing at all."

Well, as you might remember from this fateful day, my netbook got...moistened, if you will, when I left the skylight open, not expecting an impromptu rainstorm. After a few days of letting the machine dry out, I turned it on to find that I could no longer make exclamation points with the left shift key, and the sensor pad was acting a little funny, but other than that, everything seemed good. I bought a wireless mouse (I had totally forgotten how much mouses, mice (?) rock compared to touch pads), which seemed to clear up the left-clicking problem. There were a few days of bliss; everything seemed to be going well. And then my poor babe had a relapse. I turned it on a few nights ago to find that I had lost the backspace and delete keys, the tilde key, and most of the F(number) row. Weird. So I turned it off and on again. The screen never came back. The flashing lights told me it was on, but all I got was the black screen of death. Turned it off and on again; this time, it halfway turned itself on and then shut off completely.

Oh no. By this time, I figured I had done enough damage and should just bring it to the tech people at school. After all, they know what to do with this sort of thing. They fix disasters, right? So in the depths of the overly-air-conditioned (seriously, the building is arctic), I learned three truths.
1. My hard drive is fine and all of my files could be saved (win)
2. My RAM card is fine (again, win)
3. My motherboard has died a most untimely death. It has entered the void and will never come back to me (so, SO not a win)

My netbook had given me a few beautiful days of operation, but apparently, they had been destined to be its final breaths before it gave in to whatever water damage had apparently so softly grazed its circuitry. It was two years old. Still a juvenile and in the prime of its life. I had even just cleaned the entire keyboard; it was shiny and everything.

Upon hearing of my netbook's fate, I developed a whopping case of the epicsadz and began my search for a new motherboard, hoping and praying that my father would be able to install it himself, to avoid paying someone else $200 to do it. Who knew that the motherboard is the bulk of the cost of a computer? Not me. There's apparently no such thing as repair on a budget. Especially when for not a whole lot more, I could have a slightly less powerful, brandy new and updated version of my dear, lost friend. This is the story of how my debit card took an expensive punch in the face as I found myself having to purchase a new piece of technology (and not have to worry that something besides the motherboard would also need replacement). Yes, spending money of any amount makes me feel like I have acid reflux, but I know that I cannot bring my super heavy, 1.5 hour battery life, T-rex of a laptop to and from class, the library, etc. Sometimes, I feel like it's going to yell at me when I move it around too much.

So again, we come to the realization that I've become borderline addicted to gmail/facebook/skype/hulu, so much so that I've been hurting in the days that I haven't had a computer whenever I want it. It's sad, but I only need my computer as much as any other technology-age person does, so before you scoff at my inability to make my own fun, think about your own life. You're sitting in front of your computer RIGHT NAO. Seriously, go out and play.

On the upside, I've been napping and reading like an absolute champ. I'll take successes, even when they're tiny. I guess that just means that they're more fitting for my stature.

Not a bad substitute of my time. Actually, it rocks.

Also, I've discovered that the COOP has an entire book shelf devoted to Tolkein. Their textbooks prices might suck, but they're doing something right.

Lamentations of a tired girl

Woe is me. As of late, it's gotten difficult to sleep at Harvard. Maybe it's the fact that I'm trying to fall asleep in Cabot when I know that I belong in Winthrop, but that could just be my lion-pride speaking. More likely, my predicament has something or other to do with the window situation. In the heat of summer, it only makes sense to keep windows open, no?

Bugs. Unfortunately, open windows invite the insects of the night to explore the light of my standing lamp. Oh, my windows have no screens in them and neither of them are shaped such that they would be able to open and close with a screen. Few things are as nerve-wracking as entering that last second before blissful sleep and hearing the beating wings of a moth or the buzz of a mosquito. Just the knowledge that something is there is enough to send my mind into high alert mode. You know what I mean.

Too close for comfort.

Noise. Right now, the skies of Cambridge are doing what they do best (raining), which means that the skylight is closed. Learn from my mistakes, I do. Unfortunately, the rain beating against the glass sounds like the galloping hooves of a thousand stampeding mares. How am I supposed to fall asleep with a herd of horses running all over the roof? 

Noise 2.0. The birds of Cambridge are unnecessarily early risers. There is no reason to leave one's nest and start the day at 3:30 in the morning. I feel no affection to their tweets as they rise with the sun. See 2:10 below for the all-too-true opinion of Kingsley, one of my favorite Youtube sensations. I won't bother trying to say it better. 

                                   

Light. I've gotten pretty good at remembering to close the skylight shade every night before going to bed, because failing to do so pretty much ensures that I'll be jolted out of sleep at 3:30/4ish when the sun starts it ascent. If I happen to sleep through the sunrise, I'll absolutely be woken up a few hours later as the overhead window turns into a giant magnifying glass to cook me like an ant in my own bed. This is probably more unpleasant than the birds, but less so than the buzzing of the ninja mosquitoes.

The remedy: Naps, coffee, and in extreme cases, Motrin PM. And that's how you overcome adversity like a boss.

End of the Semester Misery Rant

Just because Harvard hates my guts, I've yet again been assigned the very last possible exam time on the very last possible exam date. What this means is that while everyone that I know and love is getting the hell out of town, I'll be crying in the corner, reading Shakespeare and wanting it all to be over. There is nothing enjoyable about being the last one on campus. It was bad enough after first semester, when everyone went home for winter break, but this time, the room will be empty except for my own sad desk and unpacked belongings. **See below

And once the last exam is done, there's the mad scramble to throw everything in boxes and suitcases in order to be out by noon the next day. Oh, and since I harken from the great state of Connecticut (cough), I can't leave a damn thing at Harvard. So this is what packing means to someone who drives rather than flies home:
1. Throw EVERYTHING into plastic garbage bags.
2. Wait for parents to show up in mini-van. They will be late.
3. Panic when everything doesn't seem to fit in vehicle. Question when you acquired so much stuff.
4. Remember that there is always more room and reposition seat to fit all of the crap.
5. Deal with it (or not) upon arriving home.

And this year, with an exam on the last possible date and a paper due the day after, I will be finishing by semester from home, submitting my final story via email from Connecticut. It's the semester that never ends.

But really, it's that last night on campus that's the worst. The Saturday night into Sunday morning when I'm the only one left in the room and everyone, everyone has moved on. But with a paper due on Sunday, I can't even try to enjoy that last night with the remaining orgo students who will spend the night raging to celebrate their survival through the pre-med weed out class. I won't have anything to celebrate until Sunday night. When I'm at home. Without any of my Harvard peeps.

Pretend like there's a picture that represents misery here.

And for as much as I'll complain throughout the semester, I know that summer is a 3 month waiting period before I can go back to the goodness of college.

End rant.