I've been thinking of what the non-dorkish equivalent of what happened to my computer three days would be, and the best I have is a little controlled, possessed fire ripping through my room and vaporizing all the papers I've had for the past few years, a few unfinished journal writings, a photo album or two, some unsorted CD singles, my phone, work supplies, and copious amount of naughty media I may or may not have had under my bed. Thankfully, my record collection was in the closet and all my important writings in storage. I can't really imagine what corresponds to me losing all my save games, other than a way more annoying version of losing all my bookmarks. And besides, I did already lose all my bookmarks. I actually type in the Hotmail address now. It's brutal suddenly having your hard drive erased.
I'm still not exactly sure how or why it happened. I'm clear on the part where my dad sits down to update my virus protection, but I get shaky between then and the part where Windows is being reinstalled and I lose everything. I have no idea how he's still a curse to computers when he works with them all day, but I guess I can't really blame him. I'm not really the type to dwell or brood on things I can't change, but I was definetly beyond pissed for a good hour or two on Tuesday, including as when my mom, fiercely optimistic, mentioned that on the bright side, now I at least had virus protection.
"A virus? Shit! One of those could have deleted my hard drive!"
But I'm not here to bitch about having to rebuild my computer and glean sympathy. Well, not completely, at least. The important thing is it really doesn't matter much to me. In fact, it probably matters less than it should. Things have been amazing lately and I'm not about to let sleep deprivation, failied math quizzes or my computer get me down. I had another no frills night with Cara, and I'd have trouble asking for much more. Cultured theater (pronounced "THee-EIGHT-er"), Monster; exotic cuisine, Blimpie; and a relaxing aquatic voyage; hot tub. Euphoria. I also should note that blasting Stairway to Heaven with all the windows down after midnight on the way home is a religious experience, although probably more for me and less for anyone living on Silver Creek Way.
In other news, the You Got Served phenomenom continued all week, with many challenges of straight street, no rules, crew versus crew dance battle action like we do on the street. I yelled at Mr. Shakely and challenged him to a battle, but he just got up in my face and avoided the sacred challenge. I'm guessing he's still working on getting his crew together. Also, Eric Fry wins the week for praying for Luke and Marissa's mom during intentions in Chemistry on Thursday. Oh, and the Pixies are getting back together and coming to town on April 29th. All of you who are for sure getting dragged along, don't bother resisting.