!"£%£$^&^%"!(!*!? NO COMPUTER?!?! That's right, kids. My computer would not turn on this morning. In the past, I've only had one real computer meltdown incident. The graphics went bazonkers and I couldn't watch youtube videos and everything--font, icons, etc.--looked fat, and everytime it tipped to the side a crinkling, crash-type noise would erupt from the laptop's inner workings. This all happened a year ago (today?...sheesh), and rather than bring it to the "professionals" at my college, I brought it to a friend, who played with the bells and whistles inside for about two hours before announcing that there was nothing he could do. I never got around to bringing it anywhere else, because I could still use most of the necessities: Microsoft Word, Facebook, email etc. And one day my lovely laptop decided to fix itself. Seriously. It just started working again. My computer and I have a don't-ask-don't-tell relationship, so I just carried on my merry way not bothering to wonder why or how my laptop fixed itself (most importantly, I repressed the haunting thoughts that my computer may actually have a brain more competitent/intelligent than mine). And now, my laptop has completely broken that trust we shared. Whereas before if something was wrong, I'd wait patiently for it to recover, now it won't even respond to any of my requests (like powering on, for example). So unlike the first time my computer had a mid-life crisis, I can't use the basic necessities (email, Facebook, Microsoft Word, etc.) and I had no choice but to find a professional to fix it. In London... Now, I love London's old buildings, history, and ways of talking. But to be fair, in general they're not the most tech-savvy city. They are a very literary society (with people buying actual newspapers and everything!) but their computers are older, responding to emails takes a good decade, and half the time when you email them a question, they ask you to come to the building in person or call on the phone. I was less than enthusiastic with letting any Londoner poke around my life-on-a-hardrive. But it wouldn't turn on. I was desperate. Thankfully, my dorm has public-use computers for all students (hence my ability to write this blog post). So after a quick Google, I found a heavily reccommended fix-it service in London. After locating it on a map, I had my usual struggle of locating it in reality, but soon enough came to the right address. Now, I grew up in the American suburbs of the Midwest, so my opinion is definitely skewed. What I saw was an old sign directing me down a dirty outdoor staircase, ending in a half-open sketchy wooden door, which lead into a darkly lit, basement-type space. Luckily, the expressionless man inside agreed to conduct business at the top of the stairs in plain view of many pedestrians. Hopefully he took my paranoia to be part of my explained "claustrophobia" (which I said in my strong American accent, because I've been told that stereotypically Americans like big open spaces). He tried turning on my computer and then he said he'd take a look at it and get back to me later with an estimate. I gave him my phone number and left. It wasn't until I got on the tube that I noticed I hadn't given him the powercord. Or my name. I'm hoping this isn't too big of a problem (the computer is fully charged and the battery is working). I also hope that I get my computer back at some point. He didn't give me any time frame for how long it would take. But I figure that if I don't hear back in a week, I'll Google it all again and call the fix-it business for an update. Until I get it back, I'm banished to the age old public computers. No skype, and limited access--depending on how many people are also without personal laptops. Stand by...

NO COMPUTER?!?!

That's right, kids. My computer would not turn on this morning.

In the past, I've only had one real computer meltdown incident. The graphics went bazonkers and I couldn't watch youtube videos and everything--font, icons, etc.--looked fat, and everytime it tipped to the side a crinkling, crash-type noise would erupt from the laptop's inner workings. This all happened a year ago (today?...sheesh), and rather than bring it to the "professionals" at my college, I brought it to a friend, who played with the bells and whistles inside for about two hours before announcing that there was nothing he could do. I never got around to bringing it anywhere else, because I could still use most of the necessities: Microsoft Word, Facebook, email etc. And one day my lovely laptop decided to fix itself.


Seriously. It just started working again.

My computer and I have a don't-ask-don't-tell relationship, so I just carried on my merry way not bothering to wonder why or how my laptop fixed itself (most importantly, I repressed the haunting thoughts that my computer may actually have a brain more competitent/intelligent than mine).

And now, my laptop has completely broken that trust we shared. Whereas before if something was wrong, I'd wait patiently for it to recover, now it won't even respond to any of my requests (like powering on, for example). So unlike the first time my computer had a mid-life crisis, I can't use the basic necessities (email, Facebook, Microsoft Word, etc.) and I had no choice but to find a professional to fix it.

In London...

Now, I love London's old buildings, history, and ways of talking. But to be fair, in general they're not the most tech-savvy city. They are a very literary society (with people buying actual newspapers and everything!) but their computers are older, responding to emails takes a good decade, and half the time when you email them a question, they ask you to come to the building in person or call on the phone. I was less than enthusiastic with letting any Londoner poke around my life-on-a-hardrive.

But it wouldn't turn on. I was desperate.

Thankfully, my dorm has public-use computers for all students (hence my ability to write this blog post). So after a quick Google, I found a heavily reccommended fix-it service in London. After locating it on a map, I had my usual struggle of locating it in reality, but soon enough came to the right address.

Now, I grew up in the American suburbs of the Midwest, so my opinion is definitely skewed. What I saw was an old sign directing me down a dirty outdoor staircase, ending in a half-open sketchy wooden door, which lead into a darkly lit, basement-type space.

Luckily, the expressionless man inside agreed to conduct business at the top of the stairs in plain view of many pedestrians. Hopefully he took my paranoia to be part of my explained "claustrophobia" (which I said in my strong American accent, because I've been told that stereotypically Americans like big open spaces). He tried turning on my computer and then he said he'd take a look at it and get back to me later with an estimate. I gave him my phone number and left.

It wasn't until I got on the tube that I noticed I hadn't given him the powercord. Or my name. I'm hoping this isn't too big of a problem (the computer is fully charged and the battery is working).  I also hope that I get my computer back at some point. He didn't give me any time frame for how long it would take. But I figure that if I don't hear back in a week, I'll Google it all again and call the fix-it business for an update.

Until I get it back, I'm banished to the age old public computers. No skype, and limited access--depending on how many people are also without personal laptops.

Stand by...