iLove The Captain

Saying goodbye has never been easy for me.  I`m a total disaster at funerals, I cried a little when Silverchair disbanded, I cried A LOT when Finchel broke up, and I still haven`t come to terms with the fact that Bonkers candy no longer exists even though I`ve had like a quarter of a century to get over it.  So if I need Prozac over fruity little cube shaped candies, you can imagine how emotional it is for me when a beautiful relationship of almost five years comes to an end.  This week I finally had to accept the DNR order on my laptop, and now I pretty much just want to eat an entire tube of chocolate chip cookie dough every single hour while I weep and listen to 90`s grunge death ballads and never again see the sun.  I did not just lose a machine, I lost my first electronic love.

I remember the day I first brought it home.  My friend Eric helped me pick it out and I told him I was going to name it.  I didn`t actually have a name in mind, but I just knew the right name would come to me.  As Eric and I were setting it up (and by that I mean as I sat around being really confused while I watched Eric set it up), I suddenly referred to it as "The Captain".  As sure as I knew when I was three that my new baby brother`s name should be Pork Chop, and when I was seven that my new beagle`s name should be Bagel, I knew that my computer`s name was The Captain. 

People argue that losing a computer is no big deal because you can just head down to the nearest Future Shop and find a really cheap replacement, but the relationship between a girl and her first laptop is so much deeper.  This computer was with me through the best of times and the worst of times.  It has kept me in touch with friends through all our comings and goings, connected me with amazing people I thought I`d never see again, and it provided the skype that let me share Christmas with my family despite me being in the middle of nowhere on the opposite side of the planet.  It pulled all-nighters with me while I wrote papers, it helped me with the research for said papers, and I can`t help but give it some of the credit for my graduation from University.  It has been my true partner in crime through all my wacky creative endeavours, and ultimately served as an extension of my own mind.  No matter how tough things got, it encouraged me to never stop believing. (Although that`s mainly because I listen to too much Journey on iTunes.) We shared secrets, and laughs, and tears, and bad decisions, and most importantly memories.  It made miracles happen.

I know we`ve had some hard times and occasionally I threatened to throw it into the middle of an ocean full of really hungry computer eating sharks, but no matter how many times it crashed or failed me it was no worse than dumb shit ex-boyfriends have done. (Example: My computer never once asked for a threesome with a chick he said was hotter than me. Can`t say that about *Dipshit.  *Not his actual name.)  The fact is, like any relationship there are going to be some rocky patches, but in the end a computer is there for you no matter how many stupid things you make it do.

I bought a new laptop, but it`s just not the same. It`s different, and awkward, and it refuses to stop being French, even though I`ve tried every single keyboard language setting cure Yahoo Answers has prescribed.  But it`s still being a stupid asshole.  You know what new computer with a name that is dangerously close to becoming Dipshit II, there are times in life when a girl needs to build a fucking question mark and an É just won`t suffice!

Moral of the story: A great laptop is about more than just its model.  It`s about sharing your hopes and dreams, and doing everything in its power to help you to realize those ambitions.  It provides moral support, whether it`s playing Journey over and over, or letting you talk to mom when it won`t stop raining in Korea and there`s jumping spiders all over your porch and the big mean boss keeps stealing all of your money.  It does not judge you, but provides the voice of reason by saying things like "are you sure you don`t want to save that?" or "do you really want to send that?"  In conclusion, you can always buy a new computer, but you can never replace an old one.
 

There's a Witch in the Bathroom

When I was little I figured out there was a witch in the bathroom.  Not my bathroom specifically, all bathrooms.  Every single bathroom in the entire universe contained a witch, and that was the scariest thing ever.

The witch would mostly be asleep all the time, and it wouldn't wake up as long as you were just doing your business.  But once you flushed the toilet it was game over.  The witch would hunt you down and kill you and then perform evil rituals on your mutilated body.  This was a fact.

But when you gotta go you gotta go, witches be damned.  And refusing to flush the toilet is just gross.  So my only option was to run as fast as I could out of the bathroom the instant I flushed.  Bathroom witches can never leave the bathroom, so once you were out that door you were home free and the witch could suck it.  (I understand this presented some sanitary issues, what with not washing my hands and all, but I was like four and there was a fucking witch after me so what are you gonna do?)

Four year olds think all kinds of crazy shit, but here's the confession: I still kind of do this.  Don't get me wrong, I don't go racing out of the bathroom with pee all over my hands or anything, but that's because I learned to take preventive action.  To this day every time I see a closed shower curtain I will check behind it to confirm a witch-free pee.  If you are one of those people with a cute clever shower curtain and you want to show it off to all your house guests, as far as I'm concerned you are an accessory.

At this point it is basically just force of habit.  I don't actually think there are witches in your shower.  However, what happens if the one time I don't do my witch-proofing there actually is a witch?  I end up with a giant pentagram carved into my chest and Alanis Morissette writes me into a song about irony.  Fuck that!

Moral of the story: There is such a thing as being overly cautious.  It's probably not necessary that I look for witches in bathtubs, or show up at job interviews three hours early, or spend the night in an airport for a flight that leaves at 10am.  But if I don't do these things I will go crazy.  If I have to choose between being inconvenienced and being crazy then inconvenience wins.  We all have our weird things that bring us comfort and security, and if checking for witches in the shower until the day you die is what it takes to fend off the inner psycho, then I say go for it.  Plus it works, I've never once had a witch encounter in the crapper.

Super scary witch <3