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The letter A
The number 3
And my new MacBook Pro

I went to the campus bookstore today to get a new flash drive because my little 2 gigger wasn't big enough to hold my project for my Illustrator class. Yeah, it's that big. Since I was there I ran upstairs just to ease my mind and have confirmation that my laptop was in fact still not there. You see, when I had called them yesterday they told me that it wasn't due to arrive until sometime on Thursday. Thursday, you see, is when I was leaving for the beach until Sunday. Thursday, in fact, would be too late unless it got there before 11 am. Understanding my plight, Mr. Computer Man told me to call him every day and he'd let me know how things were shaping up. Well, calling is so impersonal, no? He knew who I was upon initial contact today and after checking a few tracking numbers, serial numbers and whatever else it was he checked, he uttered the words, "I think that one's yours." Then voiced his amazement over how it got to Portland from Shanghai in a day. I told him that he was my new best friend. He said he was OK with that.

I've been having my dirty way with it all night. I've been installing software, setting preferences...it's transferring all of my music from my iPod as I type. This entry is, in fact, the first thing I've really done on my new laptop that has nothing to do with setting it up. He's a beauty. Anyone that knows me will have no qualms proclaiming that I am a whore for electronic gadgets...this is no exception. I'll not bore you with the details, just trust that I'm a happy kid as I crawl into bed with dreams of our future together.

On the diet front, I've been 100% on top of things the last two days, which, as of late, is a feet for me. I even meandered around campus for a little while before my first class this morning and discovered something. The school gym and all things associated with physical activity type classes is in the building right next to the one I'm locked in most of the day. Who knew? Not me, obviously. I should see what's involved in using these facilities. Maybe there's a class I can take. Maybe I should take one. I can pretty much guarantee that it won't be swimming as I'm not interested in being half naked on campus at any time. Mayhaps a weight training class? Something of a cardio nature? Options abound I'm sure.

Say anything

I woke up this morning to the familiar sound of Peter Gabriel. I slapped my snooze button soundly on the ass, but the music still played. I listened intently trying to determine where it was coming from. I got out of bed and looked out the window. There, with his bose speakers held high above his head (boomboxes are so 1980's), was my Cyrano. I've spent at least 3 years in love with him, but kept telling myself that he was no good for me; that it wasn't the right time in my life. Over the last year it's become more and more obvious that this is a relationship that was destined to be. I would get emails from him and letters in the mail. I would see him at school and at the mall. I couldn't get away from him and couldn't ignore him. I had been waivering over the last few weeks. Things were falling into place and it seemed like we would eventually be together. It seemed like now was our time. And yet, I couldn't bring myself to take the plunge.

My Cyrano is not John Cusack (though, please do give me a call cuz you kinda rock). My Cyrano is not someone I met online or someone that sits across class from me unable to focus on his design because he's so overwhelmingly smitten with me (though, I'm sure my classes are riddled with such casualties of my charm). My Cyrano is a bright and shiny new Macbook Pro. And after such a grand romantic gesture this morning, I agreed to meet him at the bookstore between classes today. Yes, I could have met him at his place (the apple store), but I didn't feel like it was a safe place. I needed neutral territory. I needed to be able to make an unbiased decision and if I had walked into an apple store I would have been like a moth to a flame. I would have seen them in all their prettyness and I would have said to the vulnerable salesman that dared approach, "Look, little man. We don't need to have a talk about how this little gem will meet all of my needs and then some. We don't need to wax poetic about gigabytes, ram, video cards, resolution, warranties or my additional software needs. We don't need to talk about Wacom tablets because I already have one (what we of the computer illustration age draw on, ya know the ones, big tablet of goodness with a pen so that when you draw it shows on the screen?). You, kind sir, are a truly lucky man. This is going to be the quickest sale of your computer pushing career. Now just turn yourself around, walk to the back room, and thank the heavens above that you walked up to me today. Run along now."

Instead, I walked up the stairs of my campus bookstore and I had a lil chat with my new relationship counselor. He explained that size doesn't always matter. That the 17" version is overkill and, really, what's another two inches when you've already got 15? It's just gonna make it heavier to carry around (giggle). Too true, sir, too true. He recommended that I get the 15" and take the money I would have shelled out for the 17" and invest it in a comparably priced, much larger and sassier monitor that I could hook my laptop up to. Agreed. I asked him how long I had after date of purchase to really make a commmitment as involved as a warranty. He explained that I had up until our one year anniversary to tie the knot. This investment was getting cheaper by the minute. I thought about it for .275 milliseconds and told him to sign me up.

I am now fully committed to a solid relationship with a 15" Macbook Pro laptop. We have our first date in 3-5 business days. I just hope that it's before I go to the beach next weekend because we have a lot of catching up to do. It's going to be a beautiful relationship.