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Thursday, Jul. 11, 2002 / 12:37 a.m. ~Hookin' Up~ Thanks to the Comedy Genius of JimmyUsual, I got my new computer hooked up. Not that I couldn't have done it without his help, but hey, it would've taken much, much longer. And I would've been immensely frustrated. He's a great guy, truly and sincerely. A joyous person, giving and caring. And a Comedy Genius (hey, Jimmy, that's what you wanted me to write, yes?). Anyway, right, so we were on pins and needles wondering how much porn would be on the hard drive. Okay, I was, he wasn't. And I only found one porn image, after he'd long gone. But yeah, so it got all plugged up, or in, or whatever, and it looked wonky, my monitor was all wonky in displaying the new PC's whatchamacalit. I do not know technical terminology for everything I want to say here, duh, but I changed settings and passwords and resized and restarted, and then I explored the hard drive, deleted major amounts of shit, and after the dude left (the cats just LOVE him, I am so not kidding), I defraged. Or is it defragged? Or de-frag'ed? Or...well, yeah, I rearranged things, or Windows rearranged things, and it took a LONG time. Maybe an hour or two? It hadn't been done in 720 days. So it said. Then I created my own user profile, since it's used to being on a Network, the new PC. Coolest thing? Over 5 GB of storage. That's GB! And 128 MB RAM!! I'm used to 16. And about 30 MB of storage. It has Windows '98. And I think it will be good, once I get used to the display. Yes, yes, I need a new monitor. The current monitor works fine and dandy with the old PC (which I'm using now), but not with the new. Why?? Everything looks small and fuzzy. First it was large and dark, then I made it all small, then it's too small. I don't know. And I tried to get online, but it is not happening. Says my password is not correct. I beg to differ. I got online here, my usual PC (I am SO used to it. It's just like my job, I curse it and curse it, but I won't leave it, I'm too accustomed to the cursing), and copied down all the dial-up properties, etc., so I can enter them in the new PC. We'll see if I can get online later, tomorrow. I'm plum tuckered for today. Exhausted. Oh, it has a 56K internal modem too! Hallefuckinglujah!!! It's got tons of potential, I'm telling you, tons. Just a huge step up from what I'm so used to cursing. And it runs better since the de-fraging, defragging, defraging, etc. I read a bunch of diaries just now and it seems everyone hates her job today. Or hated. It must have been in the planetary alignment, or we've synchronized our menstrual cycles by now and we've all got the PMS. Hah! Okay, I'm yawning, it's official, I'm really tired. Beyond tired. And I've eaten like a pig. Listerine asked me twice, TWICE, if I'd eaten the chips she gave me yet, as if I'd gone home and eaten them by the bagful, so I got mad and said, "How's this? I'll tell you as soon as I eat them, how will that be?!" and she said that would be fine and got kind of pouty. So tonight I ate one whole fucking bag. There. Happy now?! You know, giving someone something is fine. The person says, "Aw, thank you, you shouldn't have, that was real sweet. Thanks. Again, how nice of you. Thanks." Leave it at that. Don't ask every few minutes if the person still likes it. Especially if it's just some fucking potato chips. That the person specified as a snack of choice. Choice of snack. I told you I'm tired. Whatever. So tomorrow I want to run in, say, "Guess what?! Listerine!! I ate your fucking chips! Look at my swollen water-retaining belly! Like it? I bellied up to the salt lick and ate the whole bag, not just for you, but due to cravings, and you can rest easy now, oh yeah." Grrrrr..... My ex gave me a postcard once, long ago when we were living together, it was a parody of a comic book, or Pulp Magazine, called "Bad Mood Magazine". I had it on the fridge for years. I still have it somewhere, and I should dig it out. It was so funny I couldn't be mad at him for pointing out my mood swings. He also bought me a mug with a cow on it, a cartoon cow swinging on a rope, and a swing, words "Moooood Swings" printed on it. It's cute. I love it. I drink from it still. Morning coffee. A big mug. Point? Um, I was even worse when I was with him because I was on THE PILL. It made me even crazier. Seriously. But I don't envy anyone who has to be close to me when I'm fluctuating like this. You should've seen me at work today. Oh, bad it was, purely awful. But it's almost 1:00 a.m., so that is long gone. I must get to bed, but one more thing. I'm really proud of myself for not reading Jon's email, but it's a little game I'm playing wherein I feel very powerful and upperhandy. Like it begged a response and I'm not even acknowledging it. Power. I don't want to ever communicate with him again. But didn't what's her name say that last night on "Real World"? In the marathon? Then in the end she talked to Kyle. Kyle. Kara. Kerry? I don't know, lots of names with K in them. Gotta sleep. Cost of the War in Iraq
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