I had two snow days this week, which should have left me plenty of time to clean my apartment and pack and catch up on emails and be all ready to leave for Michigan early on Christmas morning, right?
Wrong. I spent much of those two days fighting with a virus on my computer.
grgnashbattlethwackbeatfightscowl
(picture me with an angry face smacking the heads of two little plastic soldier figures together)
I didn't exactly win the battle, but the virus is currently held at bay, enough that I can plug my computer back into the internet without constant poppings up of warning messages telling me that my computer is full to bursting with viritical files, and also deathdyingcatastrophy. It only took one virus scan program, one history-deleter program, two days without internet, two anti-spyware programs, four sets of instructions, uncountable hours of scanning the computer, and a lot of pulling out of my own hair. I am practically bald now.
In other news, I saw Slumdog Millionaire, which was surprisingly good. (Surprisingly because I don't have tv, so I don't see commercials for movies, so I don't know about them, so I don't particularly want to see any movies, so I am surprised when I do see them and actually like them.) Anyway, despite my increasingly old and miserly ways with regards to movies, that's a good one. Except sad, despite some element of melodrama. I didn't expect sad.
It was all snowy here and pretty and there was great occasion for mocking of the people from the Pacific Northwest who had chains on their tires and of snowplows that got themselves stuck in snow drifts, and I did a lot of tromping through snow, and it looked like there might be a white Christmas, and now a few hours before Christmas it has started to rain. The indignity of trying to run last minute Christmas errands in the rain is just too much. I wash my hands of this place and I shall move on to Michigan, where there is real snow. And where no one bothers with chains on their tires.
Wrong. I spent much of those two days fighting with a virus on my computer.
grgnashbattlethwackbeatfightscowl
(picture me with an angry face smacking the heads of two little plastic soldier figures together)
I didn't exactly win the battle, but the virus is currently held at bay, enough that I can plug my computer back into the internet without constant poppings up of warning messages telling me that my computer is full to bursting with viritical files, and also deathdyingcatastrophy. It only took one virus scan program, one history-deleter program, two days without internet, two anti-spyware programs, four sets of instructions, uncountable hours of scanning the computer, and a lot of pulling out of my own hair. I am practically bald now.
In other news, I saw Slumdog Millionaire, which was surprisingly good. (Surprisingly because I don't have tv, so I don't see commercials for movies, so I don't know about them, so I don't particularly want to see any movies, so I am surprised when I do see them and actually like them.) Anyway, despite my increasingly old and miserly ways with regards to movies, that's a good one. Except sad, despite some element of melodrama. I didn't expect sad.
It was all snowy here and pretty and there was great occasion for mocking of the people from the Pacific Northwest who had chains on their tires and of snowplows that got themselves stuck in snow drifts, and I did a lot of tromping through snow, and it looked like there might be a white Christmas, and now a few hours before Christmas it has started to rain. The indignity of trying to run last minute Christmas errands in the rain is just too much. I wash my hands of this place and I shall move on to Michigan, where there is real snow. And where no one bothers with chains on their tires.
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