The End is Nigh

The Large Hadron Collider – will it end the world? I don't think so, but it seems many people do. My 15 year old stepson asked me a lot of questions about it last night, he was seriously afraid of what might happen. There are multitudes of people freaking out about black holes being created and imploding our planet.

I've been reading a few blogs and forums about it, people are either laughing or being genuinely scared. I am assuming and generalising that the people who are laughing are the ejumacated ones and the scared people also avoid walking under ladders. It's sad that so many people, the majority of us I think, still live in a world of superstition and religion. We have come so far yet we have barely moved. The giant leap for mankind achieved what? A big conspiracy theory that it never really happened. We are quick to believe in ghosts but can't bring ourselves to believe in technology. It's been 40 years since Neil and Buzz left footprints on the moon and now our mobile phones contain more computer power than Apollo 11 did. Our achievements in the past 4 decades have been impressive, but are we capable of destroying the planet? Maybe, but it will more likely come from some deranged military despot with nuclear weapons than from a bunch of scientists.

Scientists, generally, are a nice people. I say this based purely on personal experience. Sure we have our share of socially and emotionally retarded folk who pull their pants up too high and haven't had a haircut since 1984, but they're all just part of the myriad of personalities that make up the scientific community. Actually, as a group, we are increasingly becoming more "normal" with each passing year. It seems the boffins and eccentrics of the science world are growing old and dying out. This generation are more likely to be into triathlons than triangulating. I'm a bit sad about the trend, we may never see the likes of Professor Julius Sumner Miller again but then we may never see someone like Josef Mengele either. I think greater access to education has opened the doors of the scientific world to people from all walks of life. I know scientists who are not only genius in their chosen field but are also musicians, artists, film makers, writers, athletes and a multitude of other talents.

But judging by the comments on some forums the LHC scientists are worse than Mengele ever was – they are playing God and gambling with all our lives. "Playing God" and "going against nature" are phrases being bandied about, now as they were in 1692 when innocent women were tortured to death for being midwives and healers. Sure scientists are not infallible, sure accidents happen. Included in the diverse world of science are incompetents and idiots as much as in any profession, but they are the exception, not the rule. Are scientists are a bunch of power crazy megalomaniacs who would sacrifice the earth to validate a theory? Seriously people, enlighten up. Read more!

Burning ring of fire

What a weekend. Our first weekend without the little kid and our dance card was full. It was to be an Opeth and alcohol fuelled two days of music, theatre, shopping and eating.


First glitch was at the airport: I had decided that since most of the little kid's textas were stuffed I would buy her new ones at the newsagency at the airport. Except some kind staff member had plonked a very tall and wide stack of heavy boxes right in front of the shelf that housed the textas and the tiny little woman that was serving had no capacity to move them to access the pens. So the girl was trapped on a plane for an hour with no colouring in. She coped reasonably well, I was somewhat flustered however.

Once in the city, the girl having been whisked away by her grandmother, we located our hotel. We had booked accommodation using the points on our credit card and judging from the photos on the net I was expecting something fairly crappy. It wasn't. The room was clean, comfortable and in fairly good nick. The bedspread wasn't hideous and they had foxtel. My only gripe was the Lipton's tea and I thought "if that's the worst of my problems I am doing well". The three levels of rooms looked onto an interior courtyard, which had simple but elegant wrought iron railings and a few palm trees and picnic tables. It would have been lovely – if it wasn't undergoing renovation. We pondered if we had been in a hotel over the duration of our relationship that wasn't undergoing renovation – the only one we could think of was in Venice, but then the entire city was undergoing renovation. We decided it was fine and were happy with what we had.

We headed off into the city to meet with the oldest son and go to the husband's favourite music store. Surprisingly, we didn't buy a thing. Lunch was a pretty good Caesar salad, although the husband's burger was apparently awful. Then more shopping. The new Goth shop in the city had nothing for us so we hopped onto a tram to go to Brunswick Street. At the next Goth shop I bought a hairclip which I can't use because I had my hair cut short last week and a make-up compact which I can't use because my current pressed powder is rectangle and the new compact is round. The son told us that when he tells people his parents are Goths they look confused and ask "isn't that a phase you grow out of when you turn 20?"

After heading back to the hotel for a rest and a shower and to glam-up we attempted to meet my friends for after work drinks but were completely befuddled by the trains and peak hour chaos so decided to give it a miss and go for dinner instead. We chose a Korean restaurant, which was ordinary. They were playing Air Supply and we couldn't decide exactly how bad it was that we not only knew the songs but some of the lyrics.

There was a huge queue outside the Metro, where Opeth were playing, and it seemed to be composed entirely of young, long haired boys having a shouting competition. I asked the bouncer if there was a second queue for old people as I couldn't possibly join those children over there it would just be humiliating. He said "no". I tried to reason with him but quickly realised I was wasting my time.

We went around the corner to a bar for a glass of wine to while away the 15 minutes before the Metro opened. The cheapest glass was $10.50 so we thought why not just get a bottle? Why not indeed. Because there was not a single bottle on the list for less than $100, most of them being several hundred, and even one bottle for $10,500. The waitress asked how we were going with the wine list and I replied "it's highly amusing", she looked down her nose at me and said "I'll get you some water". The $10.50 glass of merlot was very nice and while we were drinking and wondering who the hell pays $10,500 for a bottle of wine, why, and if it could ever possible be worth it. The man at the table next to us finished his drink and bolted. Usually I would be disgusted at such uncouth behaviour, but after the derision from the snooty waitress I just laughed, suggested we do the same then dealt with the disapproving looks from the husband (15 years in hospitality - he doesn't take kindly to disrespecting waiting staff).

So we eventually wandered into the Metro, to be confronted by a sign announcing that the support band was Virgin Black and I momentarily added my wails to the ongoing shouting competition. I can't stand Virgin Black. Their music is boring, unoriginal, self indulgent waffle. I was not happy.

We managed to get a good spot on the balcony and we waited. I heckled Virgin Black as loudly and as obnoxiously as I could. I had a small amount of support from people around me – apparently Virgin Black had supported Opeth at a previous gig and had been booed for the entire time they were on stage. Mercifully their set was short. But by the time Opeth started it was late; I was very tired and had perhaps indulged in a tad too much wine. I sat on the floor and rested my head against the railing. Eventually the husband woke me and we left. He was disappointed in the music, only one original band member remained - he said it was like watching a cover band.

The next morning we were woken by workmen hammering in the courtyard and then our hangovers hammering in our heads. Once out in the world the yellow hurty thing in the sky made us feel worse.

By evening we had recovered significantly and glammed-up again for our night out at The Burlesque Hour. What a hoot! We got splattered with milk and well and truly entertained. The only drawback being that neither the husband nor I can now get the song Total Eclipse of the Heart out of our heads.


Afterwards we found a Schezuan restaurant and gave our mouths and stomachs third degree chilli burns with some of the best food I have eaten for a long time. I pondered on how all the regular endorphin producing activities like skydiving, vigorous exercise, child birth etc only upset me but a good chilli meal – without fail – leaves me feeling elatedly happy. It was a lovely end to a hectic but thoroughly enjoyable weekend.


Back at the hotel we discovered that a mob of teenagers had moved in, were unsupervised and had decided to party all night. We would have gone out and yelled at them but the husband saw signs of ICE usage so we stayed in our room for fear of being stabbed. When we were leaving the next morning I took the "Do Not Disturb" sign off their door and threw it in a pot plant. It was a petty act, but the thought of them being woken by housekeeping amused me.

So now we return to the world of Blandberra, of work and of parenting. Are we too old to go to a death metal gig? Are we too old to stay up drinking all night? Are we too old to dress as we do? Absolutely. Will we ever stop? Absolutely not. Read more!

FIG JAM

I find myself being very reflective recently. Oh, that was a bad start – I'm reflecting on my life, I haven't been chromed and buffed to a mirror finish.
I have been delving into old music, contacting friends, reading through old blogs, just generally contemplating the meaning of life. I wonder if any of this is due to my rapidly approaching 40th birthday. Where did the years go?
I found this list of "40 things to do before you turn 40" on the web, my responses in italics:

1. Don't die!
So far, so good
.2. Write a book.
Does this blog count?
3. Learn a new language.
Did it, forgot it.
4. Visit a new country.
Lived for a year in Denmark – a long time ago, have also been to England, Wales, Scotland, Vietnam, France, Spain, Italy.
5. Pay off all your debts.
Financial I presume? Done. About to go into even more debt
6. Sponsor a poor child.
Done. I need cheap sneakers.
7. Get back in shape.
Have done this one a few times, then lost it again, currently trying again.
8. Try out for a movie…
Was an extra in The Queen of the Damned (what a shit film!!)
9. …sing horrible karaoke…
Done. My friend and I did a duet of "Suspicious Minds".
10. …or do anything to embarrass yourself!
Daily
11. Take one step toward your true passion.
My whole life is about realising my passions.
12. Quit your dead-end job.
Done. Quit several jobs over the years.
13. Stop smoking.
Done, although I was never a nicotine addict I did smoke other stuff heavily for a few years.
14. Rethink your least-favourite food. Taste buds change.
Done. I've tried rabbit, liver and Brussels sprouts. The sprouts I don't think I will ever come to terms with.
15. Go outside your comfort zone.
Like get a new job outside my field of expertise? Move to a new city? Done.
16. Move into the house of your dreams.
Will do in about 18 months.
17. Meet a new friend…
Done.
18. …of a different race…
Done.
19. …and a different religion than you.
Done
20. Forgive your mother. Hasn't it been long enough?
Done
21. Call your dad. Hasn't it been too long?
Can't, don't know where he is.
22. Stop speeding…
Hmm, I don't speed in my car (because I can't) but I did get a speeding ticket recently.
23. …and kill your road rage.
Yeah, when all the dickheads give up driving.
24. Take up a new sport.
Tried Fencing a couple of years ago. Enjoyed it, was even actually good at it, but it was too expensive and too difficult to manage as a single parent.
25. Play around with a new computer software program.
All the time.
26. Drive on Route 66.
That's on my list, along with visiting Graceland, Las Vegas and New Orleans.
27. Confess your affair to your spouse…
Done
28. …or, at least to yourself. Then end it.
Done
29. Take a cruise.
Day trip count?
30. Host a fun dinner party.
Done. Served a whole fish to a vegetarian.
31. Kick your all-day caffeine habit.
Done. Switched to decaf some time ago, reduced my PMT to almost nothing.
32. Find out the major tenets of all major faiths. Pick one. We all need something to believe in.
Done, I believe in myself.
33. Read the lyrics of one classic rap song…
Why?
34. …one popular country ode…
Coat of Many Colours
35. …and one rock anthem.
Khe San
36. Book that plastic surgery consultation you've been wanting since forever.
Hmm..
37. Set up your own website or blog.
Done
38. Live and let live.
Ok
39. Live and let die.
Then turn their skull into an ornament?
40. Live and live and live some more!
This is really boring.

That was too easy. I think I better make my own list; it seems other people set their sights way too low. I mean, "have a dinner party? Give up coffee?" are they serious?

OK, my list of things I've done that I consider an achievement:
1. At the age of 16 went and lived in a non-English speaking country for a year.
2. Learnt a foreign language (see above). Then forgot it.
3. Had a Mohawk.
4. Had blue hair.
5. Fell in love – more times than I can count! Had several passionate and tumultuous relationships.
6. Have had my heart broken and broke others.
7. One night stand – a couple??
8. Had green hair.
10. Read lots of philosophy and classic literature.
11. Went to Uni, got a degree (eventually).
12. Had purple hair.
13. Made love on a beach in the moonlight – and got spotlighted by a fishing boat.
14. Slept in a haunted house (lots of door slamming).
15. Went topless on a public beach.
16. Had red hair.
17. Been a groupie.
18. Been politically active.
19. Co-wrote a song – that nobody has ever heard, I have it on tape though!!
20. Written poetry.
21. Had black hair.
22. Tried to learn how to draw and paint.
23. Held the hand of my great grandmother as she died.
24. Made my own clothes.
25. Posed for a nude life drawing.
26. Attempted to learn how to play bass guitar.
27. Had blonde hair.
28. Lived in a group house – a few actually. The most interesting was a big old condemned house in Glen Iris, sharing with a very eccentric group of people. I eventually got kicked out for not being serious enough.
29. Experimented with drugs.
30. Said "no" to a marriage proposal.
31. Rebuilt the engine in my Morris Minor.
32. Music festivals – lots!
33. Established a career. Since chucked it.
34. Looked fabulous at my 20 year High School reunion.
35. Rubbed my fabulousness and success in the face of the girl who bullied me at High School.
36. Tiled my own kitchen and bathroom.
37. Learned how to make croissants from scratch.
38. Went sky diving.
39. Rode a camel across the Simpson desert.
40. Got married.
41. Had a baby.
42. Had an affair.
43. Got a tattoo.
44. Got divorced.
45. Went mad (briefly, I'm fine now).
46. Tried internet dating (gothicmatch.com).
47. Got married.
48. In PVC.
49. Rode through Venice, at night, in a gondola.
50. Realised that I'm worth something.
That was fun! I think I'm ready to be 40, in six months. Read more!

Ice and Pronouns

The course was starting at 9am. The child and I managed to burst out of the front door at 8:30am; I thought I was doing well. I strapped the child into her car seat and started my car to give the engine time to warm up. I then commenced scraping the ice off all the windows. Once I had done that I was faced with the task of moving the husband's car, which he had kindly parked behind mine. His car was also totally iced up and does not start well in cold weather. I revved and stalled and revved and stalled the car down the driveway, navigating by leaning out of the door so I could see, and finally managed to get it into the street. Meanwhile the child had got out of her seat and was crying because my car "was bumping"- it had choked and stalled. I started the car again and we set off, stopped to clear the windscreen and drove away again. It was 8:50am. After ditching the child at school I hammered the poor, old car to Uni and attempted to find the building and car park I needed amongst the campus labyrinth. I arrived at reception at 9:05am, pretty good going I thought. I then had to wait 5 minutes for the receptionist to get off the phone so I could find out which room I was supposed to be in. She directed me along a path, around a corner, up some stairs and to the tutorial room. The door was locked. I walked to the other door, which was also locked, but was able to get the attention of the people in the room. I was let in and I apologised for being late. Of course, there were no notebooks or pens left so the tutor had to faff around organising something for me. Finally I sat down to begin learning. My phone rang. I jumped up, apologised and left the room. After explaining to my co-worker that I wasn't in the lab that day and they would have to deal with the issue on their own I switched my phone to silent and returned to my seat. Then I started sneezing. I sat there, sneezing, thinking "these people all hate me". My suspicions were confirmed during the day as my attempts to make jokes during the class went ignored. I considered dismantling my pen and firing spit balls at the tutor but decided against it.
So two days later I am now well informed on the intricacies of the correct grammar of the English language. I now know when to hyphenate compounded adjectives and what a split infinitive is. I know that it's ok to end a sentence with a preposition and how to use a semicolon. I can identify an attributive adjective and a past participle. It's all very interesting. No, really! And best of all, I got a certificate.
During the course I pondered on how amazing it is that most of us know absolutely nothing about correct grammar, yet we manage to speak and write clearly anyway. I guess it's like a car – you don't have to know how the internal combustion engine works in order to drive one around. I don't think my new found knowledge will improve the quality of my blog (sorry) but it may make me ever so slightly more pompous, which I am quite pleased about. It is one of my goals in life to become completely arrogant and pompous. I also aspire to become (even more) eccentric, have long, unkempt hair, cackle loudly at inappropriate moments and be able to frighten small children with just a look. The fact that I can work towards at least one of these goals by attending a course paid for by my employer and attended during working hours is pure gold.
In other news, I have applied some of my laboratory knowledge to solving what has become a daily problem: removing ice from the car's windscreen. Scraping at it potentially scratches your windscreen and leaves icy residue. Pouring hot water on a frozen sheet of glass is sheer stupidity. The solution? A spray bottle full of metho: metho melts the ice and stops it refreezing. Sure you go to work smelling like a wino, but at least you can see clearly on your way there.
So my life is improving. I can construct a passive clause containing a modifying adverb and I can clear the ice off my windscreen. Wooo Hoo! Read more!

Self Justification

Last night I watched The World's Fastest Indian since it was on telly and had been recommended to me previously. What a brilliant film! Mostly due to it being packed full of 1960's American cars. Gorgeousness. Fins and chrome and big curvy, sweeping windscreens make a car as far as I'm concerned. I couldn't care less about fuel economy, reliability, compression ratios or how quickly it can go from 0 to 100 – I just want it to look good.

I occasionally feel guilty about driving a 47 year old car that doesn't have catalytic converters and only gets about 19 miles to the gallon (that's about 6km per litre) in terms of contributing to pollution and my carbon footprint blah blah. But I only use about 30 litres of petrol a week which is way less (I think) than all those big four wheel drive things. And another thing to consider is that very little industrial manufacturing has been required to support my vehicle in 47 years! My car has used tyres, oil, petrol and coolant and no other consumables or new parts in 47 years. I think that makes up for the fumes. Imagine if everybody kept their cars for 50 years, took on their parent's cars and just kept them going. That is a very high form of recycling, and imagine the environmental savings of not pumping out 50 squillion new cars every year. AND even better, we would all look very, very cool. But what about the car industry - its high levels of employment, and general contribution to the economy? Personally, I don't care, but if whole economies are going to collapse because people stop buying new cars then I guess it's an issue. Green backs before green trees. Tell that to the frogs.

As I get older and more jaded I become less concerned about trying to solve world problems. When I was a teen/early twenties I was very devout politically. I would go to demonstrations, I would shop politically, buy organically grown produce, ride my bike everywhere, only use vinegar and baking soda as cleaning products. Then one day, standing in the supermarket trying to work out which canned tomatoes to buy it occurred to me that I shouldn't even be buying Australian made produce, given our record of human rights abuses with the indigenous folk. And I thought "fuck it". Was I making a difference with all my efforts? I certainly had good skin and great thighs from the healthy food and cycling but otherwise – did anything I do really matter? How was I to know if all my carefully sorted recycling was actually getting recycled or just going to land fill? So I gave up. From then on I have bought from whichever country gave the best quality or value and I buy my groceries at the regular market (saving myself about $100 a week in the process). My only remaining greeny behaviour is to buy free range eggs and chicken when possible and I still recycle my rubbish, compost kitchen scraps and divert grey water to the garden in summer.
But the car issue I am still passionate about. Most people these days drive around in cars made of plastic which isn't recyclable, produces all sorts of nasty by products during the manufacture and they change cars frequently. I don't know many people who drive a car that's more than 10 years old. It is ridiculous that it becomes more financially viable to buy a new one than to fix the old one. So they end up generating a car sized amount of land fill. If cars were made properly in the first place and made of durable materials (like metal) they would last a lifetime and beyond – as mine has done.
The other problem with modern cars is that people are so spoilt with power steering and ABS brakes and parking sensors and all that other stuff that the average person can't even really drive – they just steer. There are fewer thought processes involved, less skill. I wonder if this de-skilling of drivers is responsible for the ever increasing road toll or just the general idiocy and incompetence that we see on the roads on a daily basis. I can reverse park a big old car that requires decent biceps for turning the steering wheel – so why can't other people reverse park their tiny, light weight, power assisted plastic boxes? The less we are challenged, the less we continue to learn and grow. I never want to stop learning, stop developing as a sentient being. We all know what our final destination is so why not make the journey as interesting as possible? Learn how to reverse park, learn how to change a tyre, learn how to check your brakes and do an oil change. Get involved. No I'm not saving the world, I'm just saving an old car and learning a few things along the way. Sorry frogs.

Read more!

Ding Dong Dell

I'm feeling very frustrated and low at the moment. A combination, I think, of lifestyle and my job. Don't misunderstand, I enjoy my job most of the time. The Uni is a great place to work, there are lots of good coffee shops, I can go to the gym at lunch time and most importantly the people I work with are fantastic. My struggle is that I have worked in labs for over 14 years, I am not junior staff. As far as the Biacore goes I was an expert - my name is recognised at international conferences. Same story with cell culture, I have the magic touch with mammalian cells – a red thumb so to speak. But in this lab I am out of my field, I don't know or understand a lot of what goes on. I am learning and I am getting better, but it's slow and frustrating. Not to mention how badly battered my ego is when an honours student can make an experiment work and I can't.
I have also decided to give up dieting. I have been on a diet for most of my adult life. A chronic yo-yo dieter: diet – lose weight, stop dieting – put it all (and then some) back on again. It's a common story. I turn 40 next year and my metabolism is shot to hell and I have no-one to blame but myself. So my new goal is to just eat well, get plenty of exercise and hope my poor addled body can sort out where it is supposed to be. But part of me feels like I have failed. This has been a life long struggle with the expectation that ONE DAY (soon) I will be thinner. It has been a constant expectation that I have put on myself and now I am trying to take it away. I will no longer diet, I will not count calories or use diet shakes to replace meals or take weight loss pills or eat nothing but salad for months on end. Stop the insanity: live my life. I should feel liberated, but I feel sad. It's like giving in. No doubt I will put on more weight at first when I go through the glee of eating "forbidden" foods, but hopefully with perseverance at the gym I will get fitter and find some balance.
I bought a new computer. It was recommended to me to buy from an online company, as it would be the best deal. And it was a good price. Ordering wasn't that easy: I had to call India a couple of times because I didn't want a monitor (we just bought a new one last year) or a printer. I also paid an extra $50 for after hours delivery and so they could take away the old computer. I organised finance so we could lease the computer and return it and upgrade in a few years – it seemed sensible. So I faxed in the paperwork, they lost it. I sent it again. It all seemed good. About a week later the courier company called to say they would be delivering the computer between 5 and 8pm on Monday, which was fine. The next day I got an email from India telling me that after hours delivery wasn't available where I live so they would refund my $50. This is where I fucked up – I said "OK". I should have been honest but I was sick of their incompetence by then and decided to get the money back.
So Monday morning at about 10 past 7 in the morning (all still asleep) there is a knocking at the door – the computer has arrived. I asked if he was going to take the old one for recycling and he said "no, it's not on my paper work". Mysteriously there were two boxes. That day I got a phone call asking if I had completed the paperwork for the finance yet. That night I unpacked one of the boxes: tower, keyboard, mouse as ordered. The second box contained a printer. Well, I thought, better to get something extra than have something missing. So I set it up and began the process of installing software and configuring the system. I had ordered dual optical drives to facilitate burning. Once I had everything ready I popped a CD into the drive, the computer said "please insert a disk into the drive". I explained to it that there was one there already, I argued, I tried different disk types, I tried the other drive. Eventually I got the second drive to see a disk. I mucked around a bit more, it seemed OK. The next day it was the same story – it could not see the disks. So on the phone to India. Now all of the advertising and sales pitch for this company refers to their help line as being a real bonus. OK, where is the phone number for said help line? It took me about 20 minuted of searching to find it, then another 20 minutes on hold. At this point the 5 year old lost the plot and I had to hang up.
The next day I tried again and after 45 minutes on hold I got through to someone who then transferred me and put me on hold. Another 15 minutes later I finally got to speak to a girl about the problem. She did a remote access to the computer, deleted some filters in the set up and it seemed to work.
Two days later the drives went blind again. Another call, another hour on hold, another distraught and screaming 5 year old that I just ignored so I could speak to the Indian man. Half an hour later of mucking around he informs me that the problem is that the new drives are very sensitive and won't read inferior disks. "But the disk in there is a brand new TDK CD-ROM", "It must be poor quality" was the reply. So I have a new stack of blank CDs that I can't use? I explained that my 10 year old computer never had this problem and how can an upgraded system be less reliable than an old one? He was very nice about it and suggested that I wait a month or so until new drivers are released and see if that helps. I was furious. The small child was, by this stage, collapsed on the floor in the kitchen sobbing and was probably permanently psychologically scarred. My bad karma for taking the $50 back.
I have finally worked out that Windows Vista is fucking up the software, that iTunes doesn't run properly in Vista and that may be all the problem is. So I decided to delete Vista and reinstall XP. I searched the net for "how to" pages, found plenty (apparently Vista sucks and a lot of people are desperate to get rid of it) and tried to fix things. I couldn't. I couldn't work out how to make a boot disk with a CD. I was defeated. Again I was foiled by my own limitations; I just don't have enough computer savvy. Apparently the new version of iTunes will be Vista compatible, so I'll wait until then and see if it fixes things.
So my week has been a mish mash of failures, disappointments, frustrations and non-achievement. I'm getting my hair done tomorrow, so at least I'll look good in my despair. Read more!

Old and New

This is the last blog I will write on my old computer. My new computer arrives tomorrow. This computer has been dying a slow and painful death for a few months now. I thought of paying to get it fixed/rebuilt, but its 8 years old and probably not worth it. This is one of those times when I am reminded of my never ending sentimentalisation of inanimate objects - my love of stuff. As on object, this computer is ugly, of the horrid bone, beigey colour that was popular for computers back then. So it's not an aesthetic thing. I bought this computer for X to use while he was doing his Dip Ed; he set it up and put himself as administrator so I see his name every time I use the computer and it shits me. So it's not that, in fact I'll be glad to be rid of that aspect.
If I think about this clearly, it's been about the things I have written on this computer. I have written long and heartfelt letters, emails and blogs. I have, at the lowest, drunkest, most depressed points in my life, written stuff on this computer. So if I had used a pen, would I be sentimental about said pen? No. Obviously I am being totally illogical. This struggle with materialism is one I fight every day.
While I am writing this, I am transferring files to the external hard drive, making sure nothing is lost. Ah, that's it – the fear of losing something. Something I may need one day. Somehow my grandparents managed to instill their life-during-the-depression mentality in me. Save everything – you never know when you might need it. Certain aspects of this are good: recycling etc. I save the elastic bands off vegetables, I save corks and I save jars. Why? I'm not sure; because I have to, it's how I was raised. You just do. Why throw something away when it has value? Any value? No matter how small, if it's not actual rubbish. Just because I haven't used it for 6 years doesn't mean I won't one day. One day I will wear all those size 10 clothes I have (yeah, if I contract a terminal disease and loose 30% of my body weight).
There have been things I have thrown away and will regret forever: the nude portrait my boyfriend did of me when I was 20 (at the time I thought "I can't put a nude picture of me on the wall!" Now, 20 years later, I would love to. I'll never look that good again.), the suede mini-skirt that matches the jacket I kept (I can't believe I broke up a set), photographs of people I never wanted to see again but now wouldn't mind. Parts of my life that have slipped away.
This is an uncomfortable aspect of my personality: unless I have a tangible reminder of an incident, a time span, a relationship, I feel like I don't have any memories. I keep THIS because it's the first present he ever gave me, I keep THIS because it's the last present he ever gave me, I keep THIS because it's what I wore to my high school formal, I keep THIS because I made it when I was 8 years old, I keep THIS because – oh, what is THIS? I've forgotten. Now it's safe to throw it away.
Let it go, let it go, let it go. Move on. Move with the times. Go forward. Onward and upward. Forward – march!
My new computer isn't purchased - it's leased. After 3 years I will return it and get a new one. Perhaps that will prevent me from attaching ridiculous associations with it. Perhaps.
Perhaps I'll make some jam, then I'll need jars! Read more!