I have to give a speech at the launch tonight. 20 minutes. That’s a lot. That’s so much, actually…that if you read everything on this whole blog page out loud you wouldn’t have 20 minutes. Feel woozy? I think that’s normal. So last night I pretty much had it’s arse kicked. I sat knitting the second front of my beautiful garter vine cardie (that I still totally adore…thanks for asking)
and I had another thought about the speech, so I went up to bed and wrote for a while with the Yarn Harlot Remote Blogging System. (Fine. It’s Ken’s laptop). About 1:10, just as I was finishing, the laptop quit. It issued no warning what so ever…the screen went blank, the green lights all stopped being green and the laptop stopped being a useful tool and suddenly became a brick. A brick with my speech in it. I was immediately paralyzed with consternation and a building sense of horror. I can’t get the speech out. I can’t remember what it says and, oh AND…there is the stress of having killed Ken’s laptop.
I feel sick. I want you to know, should you decide to come to the launch tonight, that I will likely be babbling, possibly be hysterical and that there is even a remote possibility that I’ll be drunk. (I will however…be knitting.) I have tried everything that i can think of to get the speech out of the cold lifeless laptop. (Wrong, that’s a lie. I have not tried a hammer. I’m not actually delusional enough to believe that I could get anything out of the laptop with a hammer…I just think that it might make me feel better.)
In a (probably futile) attempt to restore my equilibrium I have taken my sock (It’s koigu, for anyone who was asking. It’s about eight years old, so I’m not sure if the colour number would help you…but I went on a serious tag hunt and I think it’s p121.) out to the garden where I am letting the sun shine on my face, looking at my very first flowers and trying to remember that this is not the most important thing in the world. Babies are being born, wars are being fought, history is being decided and no matter how it feels, losing this speech to a dumbass brick of a laptop sent here to vex me is not the end of this world.
I am being tested.
While I was typing this and accepting my fate…Joe was doing this. (Ken, you may want to avert your eyes buddy.)
I know. It looks scary, but we had nothing to lose. I worried briefly while Joe took wee screws out of the laptop (and was heard to say “Wow, this one sure comes apart easier than the ibook” which tells you something of my lovely man’s penchant for destruction taking things apart) but remembered that he couldn’t break the laptop, it was already broken. He fiddled, he connected and….
He got my speech. Dude is totally going to get lucky.