The World

Sometimes you get cross at the world. Sometimes it gets cross back. I don't really get cross very often, upset yes, angry rarely. A few days ago, I was cross at the world. Cross because there are such guttless individuals who are intentionally malicious and nasty. They can turn a great day into a crappy one. I guess it's not the world's fault that these people are the way they are, but I tell you what it is someone's fault, somewhere. Of this I am sure. The world's revenge on me was ruining my computer.

Heading down south I thought no dramas my friends at PC warehouse, who always give me such good deals my Dad thinks there is something fishing going on, would have it solved in a jiffy. They had a look. They said do you want the bad news, or the bad, bad news. I said bad, bad first then the bad. Well to them the bad bad news was that my computer was not fusible the fan had gone, the battery had done something, and something or other else had been done. I said "oh that's not to bad I was intending to get a new one at some point, I guess this will be the point." The I said "what was the bad news?" As opposed to the bad, bad news. I nearly broke down and, cried in the shop. I think I may still be in shock (hence I am actually putting a post back on this thing.) The said "well you back up all your work and things like that so it probably wont be that much of a hassle but we can't get any of the data off." Well to start off with stuff the data what about my three weeks work of completely bizarre music on Itunes that I have been compiling for two years, what about all my photos, what about the stupid slide show I was doing for my brother. Oh yeah, and what about all my uni work.

Oh dear. Don't get cross at the world. Or the world will get cross at you. I am going to find Dad's Red Wine stash at the Basement Apartment. CD's. I must have some somewhere. I'll get onto this ......fingers, toes, arms, legs, eyes etc all crossed ....

Meanwhile my old computer, a lovely fat, huge, monstrous desk top, and I are getting re-acquainted. I once wrote in excess of 30,000 words in less than a year on here. What has happened since. Not much obviously. This is such a good, kind, dear sweet, computer. It only it wasn't such a monstrosity. I don't think my Dad is taking good care of it. He subjects it to dumb music, he neglects it to go and draw. He puts all these stupid, weird and obscure things up around his office (I hid all the really weird ones last time, he must have tracked them down, note to self, next time find a better hiding place) and the computer has to look at them)

I used to make hysterical crank calls, fish and chip shops, you've won the lottery, we'd like to give a free holiday away, I am so and so. Today I tried to do this. I've lost my touch. I called Erin (my flatmate at number 1.) I was going to have a little fun and tell her that I was Jamie Oliver's assistant at Fifteen, and that she was one of the viewers who had been randomly selected to be the recipient of a dinner for five..... It didn't get further than hello in my English accent. Note to Meg, I think Patrick will have to give me a few lessons when I come and visit you in Noosa.

Perhaps this is a bad dream, maybe my computer will be okay. I'll go back to bed and see what happens when I get out tomorrow. Meanwhile keep praying Emma's music is safe, emma's music is sound!!!!