After a few days of choking and sputtering, my computer finally kicked it last night. It's dead. No, it's beyond dead. I've never seen a computer so hopelessly broken. And what's bizarre is that I have no idea what caused it.
If all goes well, Toshiba will come running to do my bidding. They'll take the computer away, fix it up with some new parts, and return it very promptly with a smile. Of course, I'll have to wade through endless lakes and streams and gullies of Customer Service. I'll have to scale the spires and trek through the forests. I'll be pissed on by bats in the dark and maybe even stub my toe a few times. Still, I'll have my computer back.
I will not be a happy camper if I have to reinstall Windows 2000 Professional. Windows ME is the default OS, and we all know how much I hate Windows ME. Believe me, I suffered with it long enough, and I refuse to suffer any more.
Because of this (my tone sure is lackadaisical in this entry, isn't it?), I have no chat programs, no telnet, no Microsoft Word, and no mp3s. I will have to make do like this for who knows how long. Last time my computer broke down (this happens way too goddamn much), it was at least five months before I was able to turn it on again. No exaggeration. That was earlier this year.
Things certainly do seem bleak when the weather is disgusting, your computer is dead, and you're feeling too BLURHAGRHGUUHGHHHHHHH to go do anything constructive. I'm not sure I can bear to be stabbed in the brain by any more splinters of politics today. Also, I feel that if I eat one more sugary thing, I'm going to get diabetes and die. Well, either that or nineteen cavities. I will, however, shell out the cash for that $40 sweater. It looks very sophisticated, despite being made from that entirely-too-synthetic-but-very-sturdy-material-whose-name-escapes-me.
Now I feel it necessary to complain for a moment. Last night was a bad night. See, for the past week or so, my room has been crowded with people nonstop. Ryan, Jane, and Jane's girlfriend (I forgot her name). (Yes, I've given up caring about the privacy of people I care nothing for.) Jane is my roommate's old roommate. She's taking the semester off to get her life back in order, or something. Anyway, she brings her girlfriend and Ryan (a friend of hers from god knows where) to my room almost every day to see my roommate. See, Jane and my roommate are very close.
I don't mind people hanging around every now and then, but this is gettting out of hand. I can't say "they're loud," because they go above and beyond loud. They spill stuff on the floor. They leave garbage on my side of the room. They scream and screech and spend HOURS and HOURS and HOURS here.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not being passive about it. I've told them on numerous occasions to shut the fuck up, although in nicer language, of course. I've been looking for a time to talk to my roommate about it, but she left mysteriously last night and didn't come back.
Oh, speaking of last night, she had sex with Ryan in the shower room. Loudly. Tamazer reports that the freshmen were standing in a clot outside the bathroom and giggling. I was not among them.
She's not going to read this, so I'll just go ahead and say that she has slept with 26 (or 27?) guys in the space of three months. If you saw the way she acted around anything with a penis, you wouldn't doubt it. I have no idea why it vexes me so, to be honest. I guess it astonishes me that there really are people like this in the world.
She's in love with another guy. She's crazy about him. She wants to pursue a relationship with him and is very determined about it. And yet, she sleeps with another guy. Without remorse, even. They were half naked cuddling in her bed together after having had loud sex in the shower stall. She is, without a doubt, a slut. I couldn't help but find the whole scene repulsive, truth be told. And it's not because I'm jealous. Still, it did make me sad and sentimental to realize that everyone BUT me had someone else to kiss and be with.