HOLY COW! You have NO idea what my weekend has been like. Criminy. My computer crashed Saturday morning. In the middle of creating invoices for all the new companies that picked me up in Houston. Super-crashed. Kaput. Kazam. I was updating, and then it went all crazy, and words and whonky noises started coming over the screen, and like any sane, right-brained woman, I panicked and hit the power strip. I’ll never know if that was the death knell of old Bessie, or if the deal was sealed before I took a flying leap for the plug. Either way, I lay on the smoldering pile of Dell remains, and promptly had an anxiety attack.
Did you know yelling and crying and pleading with your computer does NO GOOD? Seriously people, NO GOOD. Especially if it’s already gone on to the great silicon beyond.
So first, I cried. I went out in the garage to be alone, and I cried. Then, it started to sink in how utterly dependant on my little Bessie I have become. My two web-guys who are building my website live on the east-coast. I cannot even call them- we only email! The people who are hosting the website, in Arizona? Same thing. The techie guys are waiting on picture files from me for the website and- OH MY HELL! They are ALL in Bessie. MY PICTURES!
I cried some more. (But I did not, this time, throw a shoe at it, or kick it. I have matured.)
I cannot even TELL anyone that my computer crashed! Because I need a COMPUTER to tell everyone. OH. CRAP!!
My poor kids. Mama’s having a melt-down in the kitchen. My phone still works, right? Oh thank goodness! Ok, who can I call? What? What’s that kids? It’s time to go to the ice-cream social at church? ICE CREAM SOCIAL? What the heck is that? Can’t you see MAMA is melting down? OH, fine, get in the car, let’s go. The computer OBVIOUSLY isn’t going to do anything. I think my sarcasm was lost on Bessie, and the kids too, but it made me feel better.
While I was gone, a friend came over and tried to see what he could salvage. When I got back from the ICE CREAM SOCIAL (?), my friend met me in the garage, with the same look a surgeon has when he’s giving bad news in the waiting room. Hangdog look. I raised my eyebrows in a quizzical hopeful looks, to which he shrugged and shook his head. RIP Bessie.
I resort to texting. To be clear, I have an old Skool phone- it is so FAR from being a smart phone, I have to hit the number 7 button four times just to get an “S”. Oh. Yeah. So I text my web-master on the east coast to let him at least know I’ve invoked heroic measures on Bessie to try and salvage some of her organs. Hopefully, with some luck, I can get the photos’ out. What ever happened to good old photo-albums? Huh? That’s what I want to know.
After the ICE CREAM SOCIAL, I realized my kids also had a Halloween party to go to at 6. Forgot ALL about it in the middle of my Very Important Existential Crisis. Beanie and Abby already had their costumes, but I had exactly 45 minutes to make one for Jeffrey. And I did it too. In 45 mintues, I made him a linen tunic and a floor-length Jedi robe, as well as an Obi sash. I scrubbed some eyebrow powder on his face to give him a beard, and he was a passable Quai Gon Jin, Jedi Master. Only with red hair…
The kids went off to the party, I had two hours to cry over Bessie, and I managed to spend almost all the two hours with Comcast. It’s not Comcast’s fault, just so you know- Nothing, no matter what, is their fault, and they will spend two hours on the phone with you proving it. Just ask them.
It was a long, dark, cold night with no computer.
Anyway. Then the Primary Program was today. With kids all hepped up on Halloween candy from last night. It was awesome. I’ve never come so close to wanting to eat my daughter as I did today. The boys did fantastic, picking their noses on cue and making sure to wave in great giant flapping arcs, just in case I was looking elsewhere in chapel while they sand their little off-key hearts out. Meanwhile, Abby flopped around on the floor like a beached Bass, kicking me and everyone around her and talking loudly about the potty and poop, her two new favorite subjects, right after Sweeeping Dooty and Snow White. Which, now that I think about that…
After church the big tech guy shows up, with a bag of tricks and a flashy things that boggle my mind. He even has a whole new computer with him, which is about 1/16 the size of Bessie, but he informs me has 216 times (216!) the memory of Bessie. Show off.
He left and came back. Twice. Through some magickmee-foo, he was able to coax all of my photographs, my invoices and all of my business files out and onto a teeeeeeeny-tiny little thing he called a thumb-drive. When I laughed at it, he said it had more memory than my whole computer. I’m getting that memory is a big deal with these tech guys…
So. He left me a computer here to use. It was one he said he built himself in about 30 minutes. Let me say that again. Dude built a computer in 30 minutes. Like, from pieces, like I would throw together a dinner of leftovers. Or a quilt. Dude makes a computer. That, THAT boggles my mind. As easy as creative stuff is for me, the IDEA that dude MAKES computers for fun, and just can drop-off a spare one, HE MADE , while he attempts to recover more junk from Bessie’s carcass? Blows my mind.
Bessie is dead. Long live Bessie.