Skip to main content

I Got A Blue One

Well, I did it. I bought a new laptop. The wisdom of typing that sentence out on my old laptop is somewhat debatable. If you know me, you know that I have a firm belief that computers KNOW when you are planning on replacing them and will do the electronic equivalent of "sulking" which roughly equates to losing data, refusing to turn on and causing all sorts of mayhem.

But, if you know me at all, you will have heard the saga of my current laptop. The fact that it will not turn on reliably. The fact that I have been typing enough to wear off the letters on some of the keys. The fact that one of my directional arrow keys fell off and now stares at me from the table beside the couch. If you are my husband, you will have heard this saga on a daily basis, accompanied by much sighing and hand wringing.

So, I did it. I bought one. The government was very kind to me this year and as a result of my home-based business, I received enough back from income taxes to pay for a new computer. I figured out what my budget was (small) and what I needed (a new one). And, armed with my bank card, off I went.

I tried three stores. Future Shop, Staples, and Best Buy. I walked in, confident in the knowledge that I knew what I needed. Confronted by a row of gleaming machines, my confidence faltered. The vultures began to circle and one brave soul wended his way over to me. I told him what I needed and he gave me a few options. Did you know they seem surprised when you factor in the way the keyboard feels when making your decision? When you explain, however, that you do word processing for approximately eight hours a day, every day, they begin to understand why you want the keys to feel good.

I left Future Shop and went to Staples. All outside my price range, more or less, except for one "good deal" that, when inquired about, ended up having been shipped to a different store. Two stores down and one to go.

Best Buy was a bust. Sorry guys, I know you try to be amazing but I walked in and stood around looking at computers for quite a while and nobody even bothered coming to talk to me or to see if I needed help. I can accept that if there are other customers there can be a wait. There were no other customers in the department. And, when a gaggle of blue-shirted men came out and started talking to each other about the computer directly across from me without asking if I needed help, I became annoyed. One finally noticed me and wandered over. The computer I was interested in looking at was locked up and would not do anything and the salesman said he needed to get help from the tech guys to unlock it.... Okay. Thanks. Bye.

Back I went to Future Shop where I ended up making my purchase. Not the one I thought I was going to get when I was there the first time, but a good one none the less. Came in under budget too, even with a protection plan.

So. Down to the nitty gritty for you computer fans out there. Its a Gateway (if you hate them, I don't care. I bought it. Its too late for horror stories so shush). It's got memory. And a screen. And, its blue. Will it take me a little while to get used to it? Yes. Do I care? No. Because I can tell what the letters are, and it turns on when I want it to. Which is more than I can say for the one I have been using (sorry old girl, but its true).

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Why I Hate Laundry: An Open Letter to the Universe

You may wonder why, after so many months of silence, I have chosen to make the subject of 2011's first post about laundry. There is a simple explanation for this. I hate laundry. I really, really do. I loathe it with the same depth of hatred that is normally reserved for spiders and white supremacists. I detest it on not one, but many levels. Oh laundry, I hate thee, let me count the ways. 1. For you are never truly, TRULY complete. Even if I choose to streak about my house so that every last stitch makes it into the machine, I never fail to locate a sock, or a shirt or a pair of child-sized pants balled into as small a bundle as possible and hidden somewhere about my house. 2. For I have small children who feel that wearing a vest once, or looking at an old Hallowe'en costume or not feeling like putting clean clothes away makes them dirty, so my baskets overflow with items that should not be there. Of course, having been put into the basket the clean socks that are still fol...

Lessons I Have Learned From My Chinchilla

Having a chinchilla has taught me many things. Not all of them good, not all of them actually useful, but many of them interesting. For those of you who are not aware of what a chinchilla is, it is a small rodent about the same size as a mitten (conveniently). Their fur is very warm and very soft. They have long ears like a rabbit and a long tail like a squirrel. When they are hiding behind your couch in order to surprise you with their presence, it looks very much like a squirrel has climbed into your home (through a broken dryer hose perhaps) and is hiding behind your couch. This is only distressing when you left it shut up in its cage in the basement the night before. Here are some lessons that I have learned from the chinchilla: 1. Even the worst book is still tasty (sorry dear, we can go book shopping when you get home to replace the nibbled volumes) 2. You don't need thumbs to open things (like cage doors). You do need thumbs to open metal clips placed on cage doors. Humans a...

Tassimo Update

So, as many of you know, I have a Tassimo. Sadly, it has been some time since it burbled happily away on my counter, bringing forth steaming hot cups of individual deliciousness. There are several reasons for this. Firstly, my bank account has yelled at me about the need to do adult stuff such as paying bills and buying nourishing food for my children before purchasing those lovely T-discs. Then, just when I had decided that it was time for a green tea in all its grassy goodness, I clicked it on and a new light appeared. It was red the color of bad . The color of broken. The color of no delicious beverages now or ever. I bowed my head and said a silent prayer for the hot boozy bevvies I could no longer enjoy. I looked in my book and found that all it needed was descaling. Easy, right? Just run vinegar, that miracle of miracles through the machine and all would be well. Oh, but this is a Tassimo, right? A fine, pedigreed beverage maker such as this is too good for mere vinegar. In fact...