Out of a sudden anxiety, I decided to go to the campus helpdesk for help on my powerbook, even though I knew the answer already. It was really strange to be the \”customer\”, because for the last few years at Berkeley I always was the one who issued the solution, the only fix. Every time a resident came to me with a computer problem, I could determine a solution within minutes. With this, I faked a sad, serious emotional state when I pronouced a computer dead. That the hard drive was unreachable.

So I was slightly surprised when I had two people stare at me as I told them the troubled history of my powerbook. They seemed to frown in concern as I described how Eris kept freezing over and over again. They even said \”awwww\” as I described my previous reformat. Then suddenly another consultant came along. He quickly listened to a few symptoms I described. He pronouced the hard drive dead and quickly whisked away to his cubicle. Just like I would have.

There is often a lot of whining and screaming in my project office. It must seem like a scary place to people who pass by. I have been going \”ARRRRGH!!!\” for the last hour ever since my hard drive has decided to act up. \”Cannot save\” it says when I try to send e-mail (because I have it set to copy locally). \”iTunes cannot use your library. Your disk may be full.\” it whines. I tell terminal to mkdir, but it screams back \”No space left on device.\”

Have tried many things such as repairing permissions and cleaning out my trash. Backing up data in progress.

But doesn\’t it know there are 22 gigs free?!

I am surprised at my own coordination and my ability to catch the ball. So I think I am going to buy a baseball glove (following breaking-in instructions).

This is how I sometimes waste time. Doing unproductive things!

doreen: ppl don\’t have personality anymore
doreen: i should splash a can of paint in their faces

Well said!

Not to my surprise, I got hit by a ball today on my left leg while playing softball. I was taking my turn as a pitcher and of course, I couldn\’t stay out of the way. Even though I wanted to be tough, I am still wincing 3 hours later. I am about to use frozen vegetables to ice it. :)

Update: Softball/baseball injury stats

I remember the old days of the chat rooms. Back in the day, I used to frequent AOL chat rooms for the casual conversation. Every 20 minutes there would always be the \”a/s/l\” question to which I would always respond \”4^2/middle of nowhere/no sorry I have a headache\”.

Then that matured into an AIM chat rooms with the guys of Danville. Random people would always be invited. We would make fun of each other, shouting in caps and flooding the chat with random remarks. We would try to invite all the buddies we had on our lists, making the room chaotic. There would always be the lurkers. I made one of my first virtual enemies there. She said that she would send the Chinese mafia after me. I am still alive.

Then it matured into more controlled chat rooms. With the same online blogosphere. We talked about the issues of the day. We would trade the tech problems, the updates to our software. We would play online games, me screaming in glee when I won scrabble with the word \”knight\”. All while we procrastinated on homework and studying for midterms.

And from there, it was phone conferences. My Cingular plan somehow allowed for multiway phone conferences (the main reason that I didn\’t change providers for years even though I had very bad phone reception). People liked to be anonymous, not saying who they were. Deep voices. People singing. And sometimes me falling into laughing fits. And fun chaos.

Then a lull.

Yesterday was the first \”random\” chat room I participated in for awhile. It was different. Some aim clients didn\’t support chat rooms well. Mature. Chaos unaccepted. But now I have entered a generation of aim with a purpose.

\”Drunk as a skunk!\” my aunt giggled when we got to the reception as she ogled the open bar. It was held at a country club. The tables were arranged by family as expected. All the \”girls\” in my family were sat together–my sister, my cousin, my second cousin and me. My older cousin taught me the meaning of each dish–a mango sorbet to cleanse the palate. My youngest cousin took coffee with her wedding cake. The newlyweds were forced to kiss each time people tapped their glasses. The bride\’s side of the family kept doing line dancing on the dance floor–the grapevine, the BootScoot, the cha-cha and the Macarenal. Even to Nelly. My sister wasn\’t afraid of dancing, even if the dance floor was empty. Someone stepped on my right foot with her heel but she didn\’t notice. All the \”adults\” in the family were afraid to dance, except for my parents. My dad told me that he was pretty much the only one among his five siblings ready to try new things. My uncle looked scared when I suggested using the stairs in the hotel rather than the elevator, because there could be someone lurking in the corner. We got too much candy.

From someone\’s journal that sort of describes my annoyance this weekend:
When I was younger, I hated going to weddings. After the wedding and during the reception, my aunts and the grandmotherly types would come up to me and poke me in the ribs, cackling, \”You\’re next.\”
Finally they stopped, when I started doing the same to them at funerals!

I am typing from Chicago, waiting to go to rehearsal dinner for my cousin\’s wedding. *cough* Why is my uncle and aunt taking so long to get ready?

This will be the first time in almost 10 years that my entire dad\’s side will be together. I haven\’t seen a few of my cousins for that long… I know tonight will be filled with the usual Asian bragging (about their children) and somehow a family connection. On the way from the airport, my aunt asked me the blunt question, \”Do you have a boyfriend?\”

To which, I replied, \”I have high standards.\”

I come from an area, an era where people don\’t need to get married so young. Where getting a steady job is most important. Where satisfying your own goals are more important than settling down and starting a family. And it\’s a place where we are supposed to believe i don\’t need someone to make me happy, but so often we go home alone and mope about loneliness.