Saturday, June 23, 2012

She's got legs--& knows when to walk away...

Hi from Babb's Coffee House in Jamestown, North Dakota.

Hi from my (first ever!) Mac.

I've happily owned a PC since November of 1981. That's a very long time. My little Thinkpad, which I've had for 6 years or so, maybe more, was feeling a little slow & the 80 gig hard drive was a little crunched by the number of photos. Still, it worked--

--then I dropped it out of my backpack onto Zach's driveway & crunched the corner of the housing. Pretty badly. So, new computer on my horizon & I decided, after thinking about it & talking to various people, to buy a MacBook Pro at the BestBuy in Billings, Montana.

("Montana?" you say. "I thought you were just going to hang in Minnesota?" Well, more about that later. Meanwhile, back to the computer.)

Of all the people I talked to, my favorite conversation was with my son Nick, who said, "You should get a Mac because you don't know how to use it." Or words to that effect. Essentially--hurray for the learning curve. Hurray for brain plasticity. Hurray for the adventure, the uncharted territory, the new you in all its fumbling discovering glory.

So, now, here I am, with a bigger screen than I've ever had in all my laptop life. 15.4 inches, or something like that. All these cute little symbols across the bottom. There is a little bit of learning curviness going on, as I can't quite figure out how to get my photo booth shot of me in front of the Babb's replica Eiffel Tower into this post, but there you go. Adventure for the next post.

I was going to just hang in Minnesota, visiting friends & working on my novel (I have a rewrite request!) but I found myself, after the science fiction convention & the wedding & all the visiting, mostly sitting in the Winter house after Zach & Tiffany left for their honeymoon, playing hearts on Zach's computer & checking to see if there was yet another episode of Law & Order on the television.

I even decided not to go to my science fiction poetry meeting, with dear friends. Talked to my friend Debbie over a burger at Newt's (the new Newt's, up near the the Winter house) about my case of the inertias & said, "Maybe I should go to Montana." We both lit up with a zing. Yes. Montana. That was it.

I threw stuff at the car, except for my computer, which I first threw at the driveway & left for Montana, round about 5 pm. Now I've had experiences of summer trips across the Dakotas, trying to get a motel room after dark. Not a great experience. So, when I saw the sign for the Home Motel in Salem, South Dakota, I decided to go for it. Am I glad I did!! (That was accidentally 2 exclamation points, but it was worth it, so I shall not delete.) Hit it off with the proprietress instantly: Susie Buck, Inner Light Engineering. Omigoddess. I gave her son Dakota a copy of Growing Wings & Susie & I danced around in the parking lot & she came over to my room at 7 am with coffee & we talked & did readings for each other for an hour & a half.

On the way back from Montana, I stopped for gas & a windshield wash in New Salem, North Dakota, & then stayed at the Tops Motel in Sterling. Not quite as cool as the Home Motel, but still more fun than just staying at a chain. Plus I got the craziest compliment from an extremely drunk 40 year old biker at the bar next to the motel when I popped over for a beer: "You have great legs for an old lady." (He'd already asked my age & expressed disbelief.) I thanked him for the compliment, drank down my beer & politely declined when he offered to buy me another.

Much fun was had in Montana, but this post is already WAAAAY long, so I shall defer the details, except to say that I bought my dad the cutest picture book for father's day: Goodnight, Goodnight, Construction Site. If you want to give yourself a treat, at least go peruse this in a bookstore.

Blog alternative:
234. Stop & think about something you're planning to do. Does it give you a zing of hell yes? If not, search for some other alternatives & test them out in your heart. You might find yourself heading for Montana, or the library. You might write a card to an old friend.