Saturday, August 27, 2005
Technical Difficulties
So the "o," "l" and period keys on my laptop have started to stick occasionally. This is pretty funny/annoying, since I now frequently type a brilliantly funny (natch) sentence or two only to look up and discover that it is nothing but gibberish. God love the people at Dell. In the five years I've owned this thing, I've had my hard drive replaced twice, my keyboard replaced three times, and the whole computer exchanged once. While I was still in law school this was almost sort of funny, since the school had hired five or six pale, Lord-of-the-Rings-loving guys to do nothing but sit in a tiny, windowless room and repair our computers. Now that my primary mode of repair is banging the machine with my fist until it makes a pathetic-sounding beeping noise, however, mechanical problems are much less amusing. I mean, how am I supposed to get by without my computer? It's not like there's some sort of store where I can get porn.
In other news from the world of science, I dropped my digital camera today. Well, not exactly dropped. My friend Liz and I were trying to take pictures of ourselves dressed as 1980s public access religious programming hosts (which is, obviously, a whole other story, and one I won't necessarily share), and I had propped the camera up on top of the remote control for my VCR and set the timer. Unfortunately, the camera apparently did not appreciate being used as an unduly expensive Jenga set, and fell off the remote onto the floor. No major damage, it seems, although I may now have to close the battery compartment with duct tape. Why must everything I own render itself as trashy as I am? Perhaps it's best not to wonder about these things.
So the "o," "l" and period keys on my laptop have started to stick occasionally. This is pretty funny/annoying, since I now frequently type a brilliantly funny (natch) sentence or two only to look up and discover that it is nothing but gibberish. God love the people at Dell. In the five years I've owned this thing, I've had my hard drive replaced twice, my keyboard replaced three times, and the whole computer exchanged once. While I was still in law school this was almost sort of funny, since the school had hired five or six pale, Lord-of-the-Rings-loving guys to do nothing but sit in a tiny, windowless room and repair our computers. Now that my primary mode of repair is banging the machine with my fist until it makes a pathetic-sounding beeping noise, however, mechanical problems are much less amusing. I mean, how am I supposed to get by without my computer? It's not like there's some sort of store where I can get porn.
In other news from the world of science, I dropped my digital camera today. Well, not exactly dropped. My friend Liz and I were trying to take pictures of ourselves dressed as 1980s public access religious programming hosts (which is, obviously, a whole other story, and one I won't necessarily share), and I had propped the camera up on top of the remote control for my VCR and set the timer. Unfortunately, the camera apparently did not appreciate being used as an unduly expensive Jenga set, and fell off the remote onto the floor. No major damage, it seems, although I may now have to close the battery compartment with duct tape. Why must everything I own render itself as trashy as I am? Perhaps it's best not to wonder about these things.
