Octopus's Garden

I bought a new computer yesterday. It shipped last night. Now, to prevent myself from becoming smug and annoying, I'm not going to tell you what it is. (But if you want a hint, I got scores of advice from Quinn.) However, in line with my standard computer naming convention*, it will be called Octopus's Garden.

My current laptop is four years old, no longer recognizes a battery (any battery -- so I have no idea whether my current battery is dead, though it functions nicely as a paperweight), and has a fan louder than a jackhammer. Seriously -- people have requested that I turn it off because of the noise. Others have just mocked me for the sheer size of the thing. Six months ago I decided it was time to replace it.

After much hemming and hawing and weighing of options (and letting price and the fact that I own a free Zune lead the charge), I actually placed an order for a ThinkPad in October. But thanks to Lenovo's inability to ship it to me in a timely fashion, I got buyer's remorse and canceled the order a week later. This led to six more months of hemming and hawing and weighing the options, this time discounting the ThinkPad due to a severe lack of customer service.

In the meantime, my eight pound laptop kept me chained to the wall, my savings account grew a little, and a housemate told me about boot camp, the $15 copy of Windows XP available to all Michigan students, and the words "educational discount" and "refurbished." Suddenly price and the Zune weren't issues anymore. And yet, I still hemmed and hawed for another week because I really don't like spending money. But yesterday, I did it. I gave away my credit card information and hit send. I figured that, like in October, if I wanted to change my mind I could do so. Eight hours later, I got an e-mail saying they had shipped it. There's no going back now.

But for the love of Pete, don't call me a "switcher." I hate that term.

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* - My desktop is Strawberry Fields, my current laptop is Abbey Road, my printers have both been called Penny Lane, the two wireless networks in my house are Pepperland and Across the Universe, my now-belongs-to-my-sister iPod was Yellow Submarine, and the Zune is Glass Onion. Various hard drives have been Polythene Pam, Mean Mr. Mustard, Dear Prudence, Lovely Rita, and Nowhere Man.

Still here

A few complaints have been made about my lack of blogging lately. Unlike some people who have become blogging fiends, I haven't gotten uber-excited about any particular political candidate yet, partly because Michigan got itself disenfranchised out of the primaries and partly because I actually like both Obama and Clinton, so it's pretty much a win-win in my mind. (I have a preference, but not an overly strong one.) It's not like there was ever any doubt that I would go into November voting for someone other than the democratic candidate -- I'm pretty consistent that way.

Speaking of the national political scene, I went and visited Jenn in DC last weekend. We participated in some (simulated) espionage, saw some monuments, and I failed to take a good picture of the Capitol at night. But I did get a sort of artsy shot of the Washington Monument via the Jefferson Memorial, which I kind of like. It might be better if I did some strategic cropping, but I'm too lazy.

In other news, I arranged a song for my a cappella group this semester. It's not clear to me why I decided that I have that skill, but as of today's rehearsal, it's beginning to sound not-terrible. (The Chorallaries we are not -- for many reasons, including the fact that we are all female and that we primarily sing jazz.)

Overheard on the Bus

Two undergrad males debating whether Hillary or Barack would be most likely to be assassinated. They decided it would be Hillary, and therefore they decided that they should support Barack.

Sometimes the reasons people vote the way they do amuse me.