The Day the Mac Died (or Why I Have Been Silent for So Long)

It's hard to talk about it. I still feel so raw inside, like a gaping wound the size of my whole body. I'll try to tell the tale however, so that others might be spared the horror I went through.

*gasp*

At 2am on August the 18th, I was returning home from an evening out with friends, and poured myself a cup of water to keep by my bedside. Unfortunately, for reasons that escape me now, I was at less than my peak gracefulness and managed to spill the entirety of said cup of water onto the floor. On the floor at this time was my ibook G4, aka the Love of My Life.

*sob*

Frantic, I tossed towels, dirty clothes, the cat, anything I could get my hands on onto the floor to mop up the spillage, but alas, to no avail. The damage was done, and when I opened up Mackie all i got was about three seconds of light and joy before she was plunged into stygian blackness. Something was terribly wrong! So I did what any right thinking person in my situation would do, I woke up the Mac tech that happened to be living in my house. This is the real reason Wayne came into my life, not because of Amy, not because they're going to get married and have 17 rather short leprechaunish babies, but because the cosmos knew that my Mac would someday be in jeaopardy. It's like the end of Signs, when you finally understand why Mel Gibson's wife kept telling Joaquin Phoenix to "swing away". To Wayne's credit he jumped right into action and wasted none of the time screaming and cursing at me that I would have if some person had awakened me from my beauty sleep to tell them i had dumbassedly spill water on a glorified appliance.

The professional advised me to put Mackie on the baseboard heater to dry her out, and he'd take a look at it tomorrow. Tomorrow came, and she was still behaving the same way, still starting just fine, getting your hopes up, then crashing and making me want to cry. This was the most boyfriend-like she had ever behaved, and I felt betrayed. Those who know me know that I am obsessed with my computer. I love it. If it were human, I would marry it. It's reliable, beautiful, stylish, and efficient. So much better than most of the people I've ever dated. So this new behavior was very upsetting. I had come to rely on something, and it was letting me down in a way I never thought it would.

Later that day Wayne called me to tell me everything was fine, that she was all put back together and was just behaving badly. There was joy in my heart once again. I was elated. I felt so happy to be back with Mackie, it felt right, like old jeans and childhood stuffed animals. But then, just when I was getting comfortable, a second round of tragedy struck. I could not get her to turn on. She just went blue, no explaination, no warning, just kaput. Nothing. I was inconsolable. I felt jostled by the cruel winds of fate, a prisoner of chance and the Mac gods. It was a terrible place to be. Wayne went in, and discovered that I needed a new logic board. Would I have to get a new computer entirely? Would we not be together through the good times and bad that law school had in store for me? Would I never again feel the warm embrace of my beloved Mackie?

Well, as it turns out, yes, I would feel all those things again. For $469.00 on ifixit, I got my baby back. I have yet to see her post-op, but Wayne says she is recovering nicely and is even a smidge faster. I could turn this into a commentary on how dependent we are on technology or how computers have become so essential to our functioning in society, but at this moment I really couldn't give a shit about any of that. I have my ibook back, and I'm once again a whole person.