(no subject)
I went to see Narnia at midnight last night -- it was a neat film, and the computer-generated lion is spectacular. The movie itself is nothing particularly awe-inspiring, but it's a fun evening out.
So I got in bed around 3.30 and was up at 8 for my 9.00 class. It snowed a LOT in the four and a half hours I was asleep, so when I got up I put on several pairs of pants and lots of stuff up top and headed out to greet the day. The house was still dark; everyone was sawing logs in their rooms. I walked downstairs, opened the door, and stepped into a winter wonderland. The snow was generally untouched, which is when it's at its most magical. I closed the door, locked it, and walked to the bus stop in a soft snowfall.
Class was fine, and then I went next door to our student union where, in the upstairs ballroom, Chicago goes up tonight. I was out last night with most of those clowns, so I knew they were back at it at 7.00 this morning, rigging lights and finishing all the tech crapola before tonight's show. Everything looked great, and I hopped on a streetcar and went home to take a shower and get breakfast before my 1.00 class.
As I was coming up to the house, I noticed our front door was open a little bit, which I thought was strange, but not so bizarre I was immediately suspicious -- not that it would have mattered, you see, because the deed had already been done. I went up to my room and my desk was empty. In the two hours I was gone, someone had come through the front door, marched up two flights of stairs to the the third floor, entered my room, and stolen my computer, iPod and digital camera.
I've lost everything. When my hard drive was mistakenly distroyed by a floormate last year, I cursed myself for not having backed up everything onto my iPod. I told myself I'd never make that mistake again, so I frequently back up all of my data to the iPod in the event that a similar tragedy befalls my PowerBook. I didn't consider that they could both be stolen at the same time, robbing me of every document I've ever written on a computer, thousands of music files, financial and personal information, and more than 1500 pictures that represent everywhere I've been and all the things I love. It's all gone and it isn't coming back.
I waited three hours for the police to respond to my call, and I knew what the response would be when they got to the house: 'Sorry, kid; we can't do anything. Get a copy of the report and contact your insurance company.' The insurance policy covers the PowerBook and the iPod, but not the camera. My mom is pissed that I didn't buy a new doorhandle for my door so that I could lock it when I left; my dad is trying to be a little more understanding.
To top it off, there was a research proposal on that hard drive that was the culmination of a semester's worth of extremely hard work. It's due in 40 minutes. By some miracle, I put it on a FlashDrive before I went to bed last night. I don't know why, but I did, and so now I'm sitting in the library while it prints. Once it's finished, I'll go back out into the now-apocalyptic weather and hand it in. We're in the middle of what appears to be a blizzard combined with a thunder-and-lightning storm, a phenomenon none of the people I've talked to have ever experienced.
This weekend was supposed to be a good one, too -- I'm going to see my friend in a sketch-comedy show tonight and Chicago is tomorrow night. I can't begin to tell you how impressed I am by what the cast and crew of that show have done, and now I'm felling very little excitement about anything. I feel defeated, like someone's kicked me in the stomach, pushed my face into a snowbank and dumped a bucket of water on me. I don't want to feel sorry for myself and I've been able to keep my chin up about what's happened over the past several weeks, but today I'm starting to crack. I hate weakness and I hate submission, but I also hate pretending that life is a peach.
Fuck this.
So I got in bed around 3.30 and was up at 8 for my 9.00 class. It snowed a LOT in the four and a half hours I was asleep, so when I got up I put on several pairs of pants and lots of stuff up top and headed out to greet the day. The house was still dark; everyone was sawing logs in their rooms. I walked downstairs, opened the door, and stepped into a winter wonderland. The snow was generally untouched, which is when it's at its most magical. I closed the door, locked it, and walked to the bus stop in a soft snowfall.
Class was fine, and then I went next door to our student union where, in the upstairs ballroom, Chicago goes up tonight. I was out last night with most of those clowns, so I knew they were back at it at 7.00 this morning, rigging lights and finishing all the tech crapola before tonight's show. Everything looked great, and I hopped on a streetcar and went home to take a shower and get breakfast before my 1.00 class.
As I was coming up to the house, I noticed our front door was open a little bit, which I thought was strange, but not so bizarre I was immediately suspicious -- not that it would have mattered, you see, because the deed had already been done. I went up to my room and my desk was empty. In the two hours I was gone, someone had come through the front door, marched up two flights of stairs to the the third floor, entered my room, and stolen my computer, iPod and digital camera.
I've lost everything. When my hard drive was mistakenly distroyed by a floormate last year, I cursed myself for not having backed up everything onto my iPod. I told myself I'd never make that mistake again, so I frequently back up all of my data to the iPod in the event that a similar tragedy befalls my PowerBook. I didn't consider that they could both be stolen at the same time, robbing me of every document I've ever written on a computer, thousands of music files, financial and personal information, and more than 1500 pictures that represent everywhere I've been and all the things I love. It's all gone and it isn't coming back.
I waited three hours for the police to respond to my call, and I knew what the response would be when they got to the house: 'Sorry, kid; we can't do anything. Get a copy of the report and contact your insurance company.' The insurance policy covers the PowerBook and the iPod, but not the camera. My mom is pissed that I didn't buy a new doorhandle for my door so that I could lock it when I left; my dad is trying to be a little more understanding.
To top it off, there was a research proposal on that hard drive that was the culmination of a semester's worth of extremely hard work. It's due in 40 minutes. By some miracle, I put it on a FlashDrive before I went to bed last night. I don't know why, but I did, and so now I'm sitting in the library while it prints. Once it's finished, I'll go back out into the now-apocalyptic weather and hand it in. We're in the middle of what appears to be a blizzard combined with a thunder-and-lightning storm, a phenomenon none of the people I've talked to have ever experienced.
This weekend was supposed to be a good one, too -- I'm going to see my friend in a sketch-comedy show tonight and Chicago is tomorrow night. I can't begin to tell you how impressed I am by what the cast and crew of that show have done, and now I'm felling very little excitement about anything. I feel defeated, like someone's kicked me in the stomach, pushed my face into a snowbank and dumped a bucket of water on me. I don't want to feel sorry for myself and I've been able to keep my chin up about what's happened over the past several weeks, but today I'm starting to crack. I hate weakness and I hate submission, but I also hate pretending that life is a peach.
Fuck this.