Death and the Hard Drive

If you hadn’t heard already, my hard drive died somewhere after my second little bottle of Bombay Sapphire, over Iceland maybe. Probably it wasn’t Iceland. I just like to think so cause it’s more romantic to think of my hard drive dying over a country of excruciatingly cute squinty-eyed girls in little swan dresses (i liked the dress), than over a random stretch of Atlantic Ocean, which was probably the case. Well let’s think, in fact the death of my hard drive can’t be romantic no matter which country was 10,000 feet below it. In any case it’s made for a tense standoff between me and my machine in the past week or so.

I did scrape together every bit of courage i had, and took a screwdriver to my powerbook to install (and take out, and reinstall, and take out again, etc etc) the new drive all by myself. There were only a few really tense moments and one mad dash to the hardware store to get a certain star-shaped screwdriver. Otherwise, all went pretty smoothly. Though i’d never wish for it in the end, the times when the computer gets sick are the only times i really ever learn anything.

Otherwise, the massive amounts of alone time i had to pick apart my brain in Paris are just not here Brooklyn. This is good for the mental health, bad for the blog. I am trying anyway to remind myself to get into that introspective place every once in a while. Like when I’m on the subway. I’m also convinced introspection is good for my skin. It’s weird I know.

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