New computer squealing
So, remember how, a while back, I posted that I was contemplating buying a new computer? And then I was asking whether it was worth it to pay an extra $450 for, essentially, a 15-inch screen rather than a 13-inch screen? And then I never said anything more about it because I am just the sort of person who leaves all her LJ friends hanging instead of bringing her personal purchasing anecdote to a satisfactory conclusion?
Anyway, I went back to the Apple Store to have another look and to decide and to think about things, and then something very interesting happened. I went to the store fully intending to purchase the more moderately priced 13-inch MacBook, feeling all virtuous and frugal (well, as frugal as one can reasonably feel while planning to spend eighteen hundred dollars on a laptop that might cost half that price if it weren't so aesthetically pleasing). But upon arrival, I made the dreadful mistake of saying to myself, "Well, it can't hurt just to look at that other one, and do some last-minute comparison! Just to be sure that this is what I want, of course. After all, this new computer and I are going to be BFFs for the next three years, at least."
So I sat in front of the 13-inch MacBook for a while. And then I went and did the same thing to the 15-inch MacBook Pro. And thought about things. It sort of went like this:
Indulgent, Optimistic Self: Wow! This screen is so big! And pretty!
Penny-Pinching, Disdainful Self: And expensive! Are really willing to pay FOUR HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS more for it?
Indulgent, Optimistic Self: Yes! Pretty!
Penny-Pinching, Disdainful Self: Well, too damn bad, because guess who has control of the checkbook? Me! (triumphantly waves checkbook around in the air)
Indulgent, Optimistic Self: (pouts)
Penny-Pinching, Disdainful Self: (trying to be consoling, aware that she has to live the Indulgent, Optimistic Self, who is a bit of a whiner when she doesn't get her own way) But just think! Four hundred and fifty dollars is a lot of money! Four hundred and fifty dollars could buy you a freakin' iPhone! Wouldn't you rather have a slightly smaller computer, and enough money to buy an iPhone, rather than that larger one, as nice as it may seem?
Indulgent, Optimistic Self: Hmmm... (starts to roam around store, looking at iPhones) OK!
Penny-Pinching, Disdainful Self: (feeling rather smug and superior) I'm glad that you have seen the error of your ways. Now let's find the nice employee and tell him we want to purchase this nice 13-inch MacBook.
Indulgent, Optimistic Self: And an iPhone!
Penny-Pinching, Disdainful Self: What?!!!1!
Indulgent, Optimistic Self: You said that with the money we save by buying the less expensive computer, we could buy an iPhone!
Penny-Pinching, Disdainful Self: (with nightmarish visions of $70 in monthly fees for the next two years dancing in her head) That was "could" used as a subjunctive, to express possibility! Not the "could" granting permission, which, properly speaking, does not exist and ought to be replaced by "may." Didn't you learn this in preschool?
Indulgent, Optimistic Self: (holding on to the iPhone in a manner that is both protective and threatening) Hey, I agreed to do what you wanted! I wanted that nice pretty big screen, in the true spirit of compromise, I agreed to get the less expensive one. And now you're backing out of your end of the deal. Don't you think that's pretty selfish of you?
Penny-Pinching, Disdainful Self: (sputtering incoherently) But an iPhone--that's--that's $70 a month, two year contract--it's another eight hundred and forty dollars! We can't afford that! Put the iPhone back. Please?
Indulgent, Optimistic Self: (with a great show of reluctance) All right. For the greater good. (Sadly set the iPhone down. Smothers a sob or two.)
Penny-Pinching, Disdainful Self: (sighs with relief) All right, good. Now let's go buy the computer...
Indulgent, Optimistic Self: (cheerful again) But with all the money we just saved by not getting the iPhone, we could get the bigger, prettier computer!
Penny-Pinching, Disdainful Self: (feels that she has been thwarted, somehow)
And so I am now the proud possessor of a shiny new 15-inch MacBook Pro. It came in this special white padded case, as if it were a gemstone pendant or other exquisite jeweled creation, and for a couple of days I actually kept it nestled in there just because I liked opening it up and seeing it sitting so prettily in the box so much. And the screen is all glossy, and the icons bounce when you click on them, and I derive entirely too much amusement from the shapes the windows make when you minimize them, and I have had the greatest fun experimenting with the trackpad trying to figure out all the different ways I could stick my fingers on it.
It has actually been a while since I bought the thing, so it is not quite as shiny and pristine anymore, because my cat kind of walked all over it (did you know that the computer thinks that a cat stepping on the track pad is the equivalent of a human right-clicking?) and also someone (me) spilled bread crumbs all over the keyboard (in an attempt to get the bread, which the cat wanted to eat, somewhere where the cat couldn't reach it). But I still stop and stare at it sometimes, mesmerized by how absolutely beautiful it is, and think that it is the most beautiful computer in the universe.
Anyway, I went back to the Apple Store to have another look and to decide and to think about things, and then something very interesting happened. I went to the store fully intending to purchase the more moderately priced 13-inch MacBook, feeling all virtuous and frugal (well, as frugal as one can reasonably feel while planning to spend eighteen hundred dollars on a laptop that might cost half that price if it weren't so aesthetically pleasing). But upon arrival, I made the dreadful mistake of saying to myself, "Well, it can't hurt just to look at that other one, and do some last-minute comparison! Just to be sure that this is what I want, of course. After all, this new computer and I are going to be BFFs for the next three years, at least."
So I sat in front of the 13-inch MacBook for a while. And then I went and did the same thing to the 15-inch MacBook Pro. And thought about things. It sort of went like this:
Indulgent, Optimistic Self: Wow! This screen is so big! And pretty!
Penny-Pinching, Disdainful Self: And expensive! Are really willing to pay FOUR HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS more for it?
Indulgent, Optimistic Self: Yes! Pretty!
Penny-Pinching, Disdainful Self: Well, too damn bad, because guess who has control of the checkbook? Me! (triumphantly waves checkbook around in the air)
Indulgent, Optimistic Self: (pouts)
Penny-Pinching, Disdainful Self: (trying to be consoling, aware that she has to live the Indulgent, Optimistic Self, who is a bit of a whiner when she doesn't get her own way) But just think! Four hundred and fifty dollars is a lot of money! Four hundred and fifty dollars could buy you a freakin' iPhone! Wouldn't you rather have a slightly smaller computer, and enough money to buy an iPhone, rather than that larger one, as nice as it may seem?
Indulgent, Optimistic Self: Hmmm... (starts to roam around store, looking at iPhones) OK!
Penny-Pinching, Disdainful Self: (feeling rather smug and superior) I'm glad that you have seen the error of your ways. Now let's find the nice employee and tell him we want to purchase this nice 13-inch MacBook.
Indulgent, Optimistic Self: And an iPhone!
Penny-Pinching, Disdainful Self: What?!!!1!
Indulgent, Optimistic Self: You said that with the money we save by buying the less expensive computer, we could buy an iPhone!
Penny-Pinching, Disdainful Self: (with nightmarish visions of $70 in monthly fees for the next two years dancing in her head) That was "could" used as a subjunctive, to express possibility! Not the "could" granting permission, which, properly speaking, does not exist and ought to be replaced by "may." Didn't you learn this in preschool?
Indulgent, Optimistic Self: (holding on to the iPhone in a manner that is both protective and threatening) Hey, I agreed to do what you wanted! I wanted that nice pretty big screen, in the true spirit of compromise, I agreed to get the less expensive one. And now you're backing out of your end of the deal. Don't you think that's pretty selfish of you?
Penny-Pinching, Disdainful Self: (sputtering incoherently) But an iPhone--that's--that's $70 a month, two year contract--it's another eight hundred and forty dollars! We can't afford that! Put the iPhone back. Please?
Indulgent, Optimistic Self: (with a great show of reluctance) All right. For the greater good. (Sadly set the iPhone down. Smothers a sob or two.)
Penny-Pinching, Disdainful Self: (sighs with relief) All right, good. Now let's go buy the computer...
Indulgent, Optimistic Self: (cheerful again) But with all the money we just saved by not getting the iPhone, we could get the bigger, prettier computer!
Penny-Pinching, Disdainful Self: (feels that she has been thwarted, somehow)
And so I am now the proud possessor of a shiny new 15-inch MacBook Pro. It came in this special white padded case, as if it were a gemstone pendant or other exquisite jeweled creation, and for a couple of days I actually kept it nestled in there just because I liked opening it up and seeing it sitting so prettily in the box so much. And the screen is all glossy, and the icons bounce when you click on them, and I derive entirely too much amusement from the shapes the windows make when you minimize them, and I have had the greatest fun experimenting with the trackpad trying to figure out all the different ways I could stick my fingers on it.
It has actually been a while since I bought the thing, so it is not quite as shiny and pristine anymore, because my cat kind of walked all over it (did you know that the computer thinks that a cat stepping on the track pad is the equivalent of a human right-clicking?) and also someone (me) spilled bread crumbs all over the keyboard (in an attempt to get the bread, which the cat wanted to eat, somewhere where the cat couldn't reach it). But I still stop and stare at it sometimes, mesmerized by how absolutely beautiful it is, and think that it is the most beautiful computer in the universe.