When I was in high school, we had these ridiculous writing exercises in Freshman year. For one of them, we had to write an ode to an inanimate object. I picked a broom because that's the kind of girl I am, and thanked the broom for cleaning up after all my messes.
Well, I broke my beloved MacBook Pro and there's probably an ode to it somewhere here. It probably won't be as good as that broom ode (why didn't I save it?!).
I've definitely had far more damaging things near my laptop before, but apparently one glass of water would be my undoing. For years and years, I took the very best care of it. Honest! I made jokes about how it was my identity (in a way, it was), carted it around everywhere I went, retreated to it for escape and used it as my tool for writing the stories that always seemed to haunt my mind.
The laptop was one of the first things I bought for myself that was ridiculously expensive. A luxury, really; I needed a laptop, but there were obviously way more affordable options out there. I was drawn to the deceptively easy, sleek, pretty Apple laptop because, hello, it was the laptop to have. Paired with my iPhone and iPad, I was a walking Apple commercial (I don't have my iPad anymore, if anyone cares). I giddily walked out of the crowded Apple store, clutching the trendy and unmistakable white shopping bag with joy.
Years later, I brought my sweetheart back into an Apple store, up to the Genius bar, and received the terrible news. I could send it out for them to try to fix it for a flat fee of almost $800. Or I could buy a new laptop, teehee. The guy was so nonchalant about it. I wanted to cry out against the indecency, wail with my priceless possession to my chest, ask him if he understood what loss was. Then I realized I had to take it down a notch. It was just a thing. It wasn't priceless; the bored-looking hipster was giving it a very clear price, actually.
It was established I didn't have backup (I do have Dropbox for photos and videos, so there's that). No, I didn't have AppleCare. I was but a naive girl, believing my darling Mac would always be there for me.
The most disturbing image I'm left with is it smoking only moments before I met the douche at the Genius bar. That was when I finally came to the conclusion they weren't going to be able to fix this. I was torn between throwing it as far the hell away from me as possible (I mean, they can go on fire, right?) and weeping over it like it was a fallen hero. My friend advised me not to throw it, though I knew she was secretly worried. The bitch took a step or two away from me.
Right before I left--only a minute after I came, really, because those "geniuses" aren't messing around--the guy asked if I was a student or teacher.
"Why?" I asked, curious. I ignored the girl next to us--waiting impatiently for her turn on one of the uncomfortable-looking stools that I can't believe people actually sit on--knocking into me because she couldn't fucking sit still and wait for her fucking turn like a grown-up. People are such animals when it comes to those Genius bars, I never realized. I almost feel like writing another post analyzing the dynamics of Apple stores, but I clearly digress.
He placed his hands on my baby. I looked down at its silver body, dented and scratched slightly from years of loving use. "You can get a discount for a new one. It would be $999."
What a fucking generous discount. I picked up my now useless laptop and said goodbye.
I was kind of inconsolable about it that night. I'm not proud to admit I cried, but that's really how much it upset me. It didn't help that some other things were going on that impacted my mood. Nothing serious; the suckiness was just accumulating. But people were so nice to me about it. No one told me I was a moron (at least not to my face :P ) and everyone expressed legitimate concern which is so damned nice I could cry.
It was my favorite thing for a long, long time. It had all my music and my stories--my life-- on there. Stories I haven't had a chance to share with you, yet. That's the thing that really bugs me. So many ideas that poked me in the middle of the night or in the middle of the day that I quickly recorded on my laptop, hoping I'd come back to soon, were wiped away in the flood of my errant drink.
That it's sitting lifeless on my kitchen table right now, carrying my life and yet somehow not carrying it at all (nothing is going on in there, is it), is a weird thing if you think about it.
There are a million things worse and more severe than losing a laptop. I realize that. I'm fortunate to live where I do, to have a roof over my head and a meal around the corner. I have a new laptop--Toshiba--and though I'm cursing every five minutes because how the fuck do you work this thing, I'm immensely grateful. People have been so sweet to me. Everything is relative, and losing my laptop SUCKED, but it's easy to stay positive when I have so many reminders of why it's not the end of the world. If I'd been writing what I thought was a best-seller on there, maybe I'd allow myself a week or two of wallowing and drinking. Now I'll just content myself with watching shitty reality TV shows.
And here's where I drag in The Bachelorette! If you missed my last post about The Bachelor/Bachelorette, check it out here. There's a point here, I promise.
If you haven't been watching, you probably have better things to do Monday nights. I understand. I, on the other hand, purposefully make sure I have nothing to do because nothing else gives me the high this particular franchise does. Maybe I'll tire of it in a few seasons... maybe I won't.
Andi Dorfman, the girl who walked off of Juan Pablo's season last year, presented herself as an ADA craving love this season. I was a little puzzled by her occupation when I noticed what a terrible speaker she is. She's addicted to the word "like". To be fair, I'm guilty of it, too, sometimes, but her use of it is UNREAL. Her season probably would've fallen into its proper obscurity if it hadn't been for a semi-explosive After the Final Rose special. Phew.
Nick Viall, the second guy in the running who was sent home just before Andi became engaged to Josh Murray, came out and said they had sex the night before she dumped him...and before she became engaged. From what I understand, the Fantasy Suite portion of the final dates is not a new practice, nor is it unheard of that the lead has sex with more than one person (and women/men who they are not picking as their final). BUT IT IS NEVER UTTERED. The audience gasped and I asked my friend if I heard what I thought I heard.
Nick muttered and rambled and went off on awkward tangents (which made me feel for him a little), before coming out and asking Andi why she "made love" to him if she knew she wasn't going to pick him/wasn't in love with him. The audience gasped, Andi twisted her expression into Ultimate Bitch Face, and I thought I was going to have a heart attack.
Made love? Really?
So much has been said about this. Some say good for her. Others call her a slut. A few pity Nick. People think it's totally messed up he said that, that it was a private thing. Many add he was heartbroken.
I hated Nick for a long time but I do think there was a genuine note of sadness about him. I think he got caught up in the game. I think he believes he loves her. Maybe he said what he did to hurt her; maybe it just fell out; maybe he holds sex up to a higher standard than most do. I'm more disturbed he used the term "making love" but that's just me.
I think it's easy to forget we're dealing with humans here. Part of me thinks Nick did say that to be a prick. I certainly understand the urge. I was talking to an asshole I know the other day and I so desperately wanted to say something catty because I knew it would feel amazing in that one instant it took me to form the words and have them travel from my mouth. But I also know the shame you feel sometimes when you say something you shouldn't have, just because you could or because you wanted to. Words hurt! Yet we still need to be reminded.
I do think Nick was heartbroken and was feeling her out for an answer he'd never receive. Maybe he really wanted to know how she could have sex with him and get engaged to someone else the next say. I wonder that, too, but I also benefit from knowing it's a fucking TV show and this happens all the time. Not a shock when you group together a bunch of attractive humans.
Nick knew what he signed up for. So did Andi. I understand that he threw her a curveball, but if you don't want the nation to know intimate things about you, maybe you shouldn't sign up for a reality show.
I taped The Bachelorette and watched it after my laptop debacle. I was brooding, and it occurred to me there were a lot of past relationships I still had questions about, even if time had provided closure. I will never get them. You'll never get yours answered either, probably. Funny we might imagine that if we get all dressed up and sit under spotlights and come face-to-face with the people from our past again, we'll be able to have the confrontation we always dreamed about.
Only, it didn't work out for Nick. It bombed in a very big, very real way. There wasn't an answer. Not really. Andi had a good enough explanation, but that was never going to make sense to Nick, just like the answers from the people in our past likely wouldn't make sense to us. It's human nature to seek answers, explanations to things. We desperately want to know how things work. And that's why I won't stop watching these shows, because even if reality and humanity is in scarce supply on set, it blows it up for us in real life.
That night I wanted to use my laptop and google articles, find out reactions, but obviously I couldn't. I sought an answer to why the fuck my laptop had to die on me, but there is no answer, like there's no answer to Nick's question.
Or rather, it's that I spilled a huge fucking glass of water on it. Oh. Right.
P.S. Who's watching Bachelor in Paradise? C'mon now. It has old favs on there, too, but of course I don't know who they are.