Technologically Challenged

A few of my closest stalkers have inquired as to why I have not blogged in over a week. Through incessant texts, FB posts and flat out verbal abuse, I feel an explanation is needed.

I am technologically challenged.

No, not in a “how do I delete an app from my iPhone” or “WHY IS THE FONT SO SMALL I CAN’T READ MY SCREEN?” kind of way. Btw, thanks girl-I-work-with for asking me said questions. If you ever read my blog, know I called you out with the utmost respect.

More in the “I have had this computer since the beginning of time and it just committed unassisted suicide.” Yes, I know that’s just plain old suicide, thanks Dr. K for calling me out. Pft.

Those of you that have had the luxury of being inside my apartment, know that I am Mac friendly. Living and dying by the ways of Steve Jobs himself, I am not capable of buying a PC. The days of yore have passed for me, and I am no longer PC literate. Being a Mac user is the most prestigious of all computer cults one can join, and I am proud to say that I have sunk lots o’ dollas into Apple products.

(Do you think if I plug them enough they will send me a free MacBook?)

Now that I have established my love and obsession with all-things-Apple, I will tell you with much distain that I am preparing myself for the loss of two, yes, two, Apple laptops.

“Who can kill TWO laptops?” you ask? Well, me.

My personal iBook, which I immediately named “Baby” upon her purchase – since nobody puts Baby in a corner, has the energy level of your 85 year old grandpa after five hours of cribbage. She just doesn’t want to hold a charge, be charged or think about charging. Her poor little plug-in has lost that lovin’ feeling, and without massive surgery or a miracle I feel she is lost and gone forever.

After I accepted the loss of Baby, I moved on to using the hand-me-down PowerBook my company gave me. Though he (unnamed) has a bigger screen, and probably more memory or something fancy pants, it just isn’t the same. Alas, he allowed me to communicate with you weirdos, upload pictures to Facebook and stalk people I don’t really know/never really knew via FB late hours into the night.

Until he also decided to stop caring about his energy level. Ok, that’s not true. If he COULD charge he WOULD…but…well…the charger seems to have broken.

Let me explain. The TIP of the charger broke off INSIDE my PowerBook. JUST THE TIP. GAH! And that is blocking any sort of electrical connection (or something, I just made that up) from happening between the wall and PB’s battery.

Both will be having surgery at a private residence this weekend. Please send all flowers, gifts, money and well wishes via FB. Unless it’s cash, in which case, straight to my piggy bank. Thank you.

With that, know that it’s not that I haven’t WANTED to tell you about all that is going on in my world, dear reader. It’s just that, although I have strong contacts (without which I have the vision of your 85 year old grandpa after five straight hours of video cribbage) and nimble fingers bred for constant texting via iPhone (GO APPLE!) – my ability to write an entire, well edited (or at least partially) and witty blog is next to nothing.

I’d like to also point out that I wrote an ENTIRE blog on my broken Baby/PB without one swear word. Mom, you are welcome. Don’t get used to it please.

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