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April 15, 2001
I may never leave the house again.
I have a lovely, lovely new toy -- my computer arrived yesterday! It is, at the moment, set up awkwardly on my roommate's sewing machine/table in the living room. Well, the monitor is, anyway. The keyboard is balanced on my lap, and everything else is on the floor. I don't have a desk yet -- I'm supposed to be getting one tomorrow.
I had the computer delivered to me at work, which turned out to be far more of a hassle than I thought it would be. I had been obsessively checking the FedEx tracking information, and peeking out the window looking for the delivery man, and pacing the floor -- hey, I never said I was patient. At around three o'clock yesterday, I checked the tracking page for the 800th time, and saw, to my confusion and dismay, that the status had gone from "In Transit" to "Delivered." I called FedEx, and was told that it had been delivered, and someone I'd never heard of had signed for it. Needless to say, I was not a happy girl -- I had heard stories about computers being ordered, and being delivered to the wrong building, and just never being found. I only had a last name for the person who had signed for it, but luckily, there were only two people with that name listed in the MIT directory. I got lucky with the first call I made -- it turned out my computer was sitting in the central mail office. That was the good news -- the bad news was, none of the mail delivery people were answering their phones, and so it looked like I would have to wait until Tuesday for it to actually arrive at my building. I have way too much homework to do, and had my heart (not to mention my grades) set on having the computer yesterday, so I begged and pleaded and was generally pitiful at the mailroom guy. He finally said he'd see what he could do... and called me back five minutes later to say he was on his way over to drop it off. Joy!
I got a ride home with an IT-minded friend, who set the whole works up for me (had I known it was really just a matter of taking it out of the box, plugging various things into other things, and turning it on, I would have done it myself... shut up, I've never had a brand-new computer before.) The first thing I did was set up my internet service (which I don't like very much -- it's fast enough, but there's a weird sidebar thing that makes the window really small. It annoys me. And it keeps popping windows up at me, telling me to update things. It's only been one day, do I really need to be updating things already?) As soon as that was done, I installed the Sims -- hey, I've got my priorities straight! I created a little family -- a Sim for me, one for my mom, and one for my brother (I'm hoping none of them decide to get frisky with each other, because that would just be creepy) -- and man, are they pigs. It's my fault, really -- I didn't make them tidy enough, I guess. And... well, I forgot to give them a toilet when I moved them into their house. I've never played before, I just assumed the house would have a toilet! So, my nasty, sloppy Sims throw trash all over the floors, and for a while, were having little "accidents" as well. I have a code for unlimited money, though, so the plumbing shortage has been rectified. They really are high-maintenance, though...
Today I tore myself away from the pigsty Sims household, intending to just make a quick trip into Boston to get my hair cut, and to meet with my class group -- we have a project due in a little less than two weeks. I have either a cold or a really nasty case of allergies, so I really didn't want to be out long. I forgot one thing, though -- the marathin. The stupid, pain in my butt Boston Marathon. (Yeah, I know, it's cool and all, but it really makes it difficult to get anywhere in town. So don't send me hate mail.) It took me ages to get to the hair salon, because of the herds of tourists -- all of them the kind who wander really slowly down the middle of the sidewalk, not letting anyone pass them. Also the kind who stop abruptly, causing me to bump into them. Feh. Got to the hair place, and had a very difficult time convincing the woman that I really, honestly did want her to cut my hair short. "I want it short, so I don't have to do much with it," I said. "I'll cut this much off," she said, indicating the last 1/16th of an inch of my hair. "No, I want it short," I said. "You might not like it!" she said. This went on for fifteen minutes or so, until I told her that, even if she got out the clippers and gave me a buzz cut, it wouldn't be too short for me. I wanted it short and low-maintenance, damn it! She still ended up cutting it twice -- the first time, she left the front all long, so it hung in my eyes, and there were these two very odd little wings of hair in front of my ears, which she combed so that they were plastered against my face. It looked just about as weird as it sounds, and it was annoying and itchy. I told her to chop the front off, and get rid of the wings, or I would do it myself when I got home. The second time, she apparently decided that I really meant it when I said I wanted it short -- it's not the world's best haircut, but it's out of my eyes, and I won't have to fuss around with it much, so I'm happy.
After the haircut, I battled the herds of slow-moving tourists to get to the T, and headed for school, where the main entrace was inexplicably locked. They're doing construction, which meant I couldn't get to the back entrance without walking several blocks out of my way, which made me late. And tired, and cross. Met with my group, which was good, because I ended up getting quite a lot of help on the big, scary assignment I have due Thursday. Left school, and went back downtown (yes, I am an idiot) to try to get a fresh box of nicotene patches (which are working very well indeed -- no cigarettes for six days!) I went to three stores before I found any -- there must have been a run on the patch lately. It was almost eight o'clock by the time I got home, tired and snuffly-nosed and cranky. But dinner and a bit more Sims made me feel slightly better... and now I'm going off to bed.
Posted by Mary Ellen at April 15, 2001 12:01 AM