Evil never dies.

These are the things I think of when I see the phrase “Evil never dies”:

• Halloween: Resurrection, starring Jamie Lee Curtis and, inexplicably, Busta Rhymes.
• Wishmaster 2: Evil Never Dies, starring pretty much nobody at all.
• Amityville Dollhouse, the eighth installment of the Amityville Horror saga. No, really. (Incidentally, I cannot believe they went through eight movies before falling back on this trusty tagline.)
• Christine, starring the VenJetta.

I thought I was done writing about the VenJetta in my blog. I’d closed that chapter in my life, mourned the loss of some reluctantly great writing material, and breathed my first sigh of vehicular relief in five years.

Unfortunately, I forgot that evil never dies. It only moves around, finding new makeshift hosts to carry out its rancor in imaginative ways. This, at least, is the only explanation I can find for the startling upheaval in all of my home appliances.

It started with my computer. My PC began crashing with some regularity several months ago. Sometimes it would magically fix itself overnight (I’d wake up to find the Blue Screen of Death had been replaced with my Giant Izzy wallpaper, and I would even be logged into my Instant Messenger; the computer was all but whistling nonchalantly), and sometimes I would need the help of my friend, Kevin (Indian name: Dances With CPUs), to piece things back together with rescue discs and DOS commands. I backed up my important stuff and continued to work with it, crossing my fingers. Metaphorically, of course.

Then my hairdryer died, and I had to buy a new one. I wasn’t too broken up about this, because that hairdryer was always a little wonky anyway. It didn’t smell like something was burning, but it did set off the smoke alarm my very first morning in my apartment. For the past four years, I’ve had to dry my hair with the bathroom door shut, so that no one evacuated my building.

Shortly thereafter, my TiVo became frozen and unresponsive. Unlike the hairdryer, this was like a knife in my stomach. Fortunately, a simple unplug and re-plug got us back on track.

Last week, over the course of three days, five light bulbs (in various lamps) blew out in my apartment. I would like to remind you that I live in a one-bedroom, not Aisle Five of LampsUSA.

On Friday, my computer crashed again, and this time there was no coming back. No amount of computer-whispering from Kevin or recovery procedures from me would make Windows start, and I was sick of it. It was the VenJetta all over again, a petulant and unprovoked piece of machinery, and I had had it.

Maybe it was the empowerment of my recent conquest over the VenJetta itself; maybe it was the intoxicating feeling of exorcising all the problem children in my life; maybe it was years of pent-up frustration with Microsoft’s finicky infrastructure and an utter exhaustion at trying to defend it; maybe it was a closeted crush on the sleek designs of Apple’s latest products and a convenient call-to-action; I don’t know. But whatever it was, I think I blacked out somewhere and I woke up with this:

I bought an iMac. Isn’t it pretty?

I think I am slowly but surely cutting off all avenues of attack for the VenJetta’s evil spirit. Soon I will live a normal life again, like Jamie Lee Curtis. In the meantime, I am taking the advice of my friend Jay T and not standing too close to the oven.



P.S. I do believe Macs and PCs can peacefully coexist in this world, and if you try to start a flame-war in here, I will send my toaster after you. Don’t think I won’t.

Based on a true story.

I was all set to write a blog entry today that detailed the tragic, autobiographical Lifetime-movie account of a suicidal computer that had flirted with death and the devoted owner who wrestled it back from the brink in a tear-jerking and inspiring display of personal strength. It was filled with suspense, determination, heartbreak, and hope. When all seemed lost, the stoic owner pulled together threads of ingenuity and fortitude from every dark corner of her body and used them to MacGyver her despairing computer back into working condition, with some help from her charmingly techy-yet-accessible friends, and the intellectually dashing computer paramedic who made housecalls. There were some laughs along the way (she wrote a blog entry by hand!), some tears (she was about to lose everything!), and some nail-biting action scenes (her freelance projects threatened to come crashing down around her!), but ultimately it was a story about perseverance, and it ended with smiles of relief and a nice crane shot of a happy household surrounded by trees and birds.

That was my plan. But then I woke up this morning to see a black DOS screen and an Error Message of Death. Again.

I should have known that every successful Lifetime movie has a sequel. Well, and Nancy McKeon.

Technology bytes.

Post-script:

Executive decision.

Dear Corporate Employers,

Looking out my window, I see that when the snow is not falling in actual solid plates, it's moving in an angrily horizontal way. I can't see the building 30 feet away, partly because of the white-out conditions and partly because someone appears to have spackled over my windows. Al Roker tells me there's going to be 10" more on the ground by this afternoon, and although I don't put a whole lot of stock in his meteorological expertise, he seems to be backed up by Respected Weather King of the Greater Omaha Area, Jim Flowers.

Every school is closed and every news station is telling me to absolutely stay off the roads unless it's an emergency, because crews are sick of hauling our asses out of ditches. News anchors are showing CityCam shots of nothing but white while plugging the Today Show’s upcoming segment on “Fun Things to do on a Snow Day!” because obviously, they say, no non-essential personnel should be at work today. Then they laugh superciliously at the thought of any employment establishments that would be foolish enough to disagree.

I bring this all up to you because I have called the Corporate Weather Line approximately 38 times this morning. 39, if you count the time I accidentally misdialed and got Pizza Hut. And every time (with the exception of the Pizza Hut call), I got the same message: “All offices and systems are open for normal business hours.”

With all due respect, Sirs: whatever. I'm calling a Snow Day. You cannot convince me that I am essential personnel. If you consider me essential personnel, then I think we should be discussing an entirely different pay bracket. Also, I'm willing to bet you will not pay for my damage when some idiot hits my shiny, shiny new car because they think that all SUVs are actually Hummers, or the resulting damage to their own vehicle when I go all Anger Management on their Jeep Liberty.

If you have any questions regarding my decision, you are more than welcome to come over for cinnamon buns and coffee, and we will discuss the matter under some quilts.

Best,
Meldraw