The only time I wonder why my computer monitor whines is when I'm not in the middle of smacking it upside the screen for what it's showing me.
I can't blame anyone but myself. Probably. I'm running fucking Windows 98 on a Frankensteined six-year-old Gateway that's been slapped into an old server case with broken ports and loaded with bootlegged barely-compatible software. I haven't found myself so stuck for what to do with my money in the last six years that I've had to go out and spend it on a new computer, and just thinking about the work involved in changing my operating system makes me twitch. Jacob's invaluable technical assistance comes at the price of having to apologize and explain why I'm taking out my irritation on him instead of on my beleaguered monitor.
The upshot of all of this is that I've broken two installations of Winamp (Winamp? Since when does Winamp ever not work?) in the last two weeks and my email program crashes every other time I open it. It's gotten to the point where I'm glad to see the "program not responding" dialog box because at least it means something is still working. iTunes, the Gmail Notifier and this damn puzzle game that I want to try all turn up their noses at my pre-millennial operating system, but Starflight I freaks out about my blazing speed and massive drive space. If you don't hear from me for a while, just assume that I've uninstalled everything but DOS, hit various parts of my computer with a hammer until they show signs of decreased efficiency, and I'm happily picking up things with tentacles on that purpley planet two stars over.
Seems like I'm always tired lately. I just read about Kristen's always foggy and always night San Francisco and remembered a Berkeley that was like that. It was always too empty, too late, too steep, and dinner was always gone when I got home.Posted by dianna at June 13, 2005 07:28 PM