South Park Self

It's not like I meant to. The damn thing malfunctioned or something.

You know, it's not just the gentle weekly suggestions of my therapist which are starting to make me realise I don't have enough faith in myself. Remember the sad death of Winona, my netbook? She refused to switch on at any price, and eventually by determined trial and error I worked out that her on switch was defunct. I resolved to take her around to her supplier sometime and demand medical attention, and there the matter languished.

Then last night we were role-playing, and the conversation rambled around to matters technogeeknical, as it does, and I had myself a brief, ritual "dead Winona" lament. Whereupon Andrew H-S agreed that yes, it did sound like the on switch was buggered, and why didn't I just open it up and fiddle around a bit, he's seen me fix stuff he can't fix? (On mature reflection I think he must mean that one weekend away in Wilderness with the gang, over a decade ago, when I fixed the broken toilet flushing system with a brass brazing rod and the jeweller's pliers I carry in my handbag, and we spent the rest of the weekend rather drunkenly deciding who we'd like with us come the apocalypse, on grounds of random skills. I made it because of my ability to fix flush toilets. We decided, if I remember correctly, that we were pretty much screwed in genetic terms, we're all bespectacled geek types and our offspring would probably be blind within two generations. We also, for no adequately defined reason, ended up deploying Thakky's husband in a string bikini with a Bowie knife as a boundary patrol, and keeping David in a cage for breeding purposes as he's one of the few of us with 20/20 vision. It was a fairly drunken weekend).

Anyway, fired by this passing testament to my abilities, I just disassembled selected portions of Winona with the Philips screwdriver I keep on my desk, jiggled the switchy bits, blew carefully into the whole thing to remove dust and accreted pocket universes, and screwed it back together, whereupon it booted first go. She is now sitting on my desk meditatively downloading Windows upgrades. I feel smug, and also maddened beyond belief that I didn't trust my own instincts and bloody well do that first off when the problem manifested. Honestly. Two minutes of fiddling and a Philips screwdriver. Think of all the ritual Winona laments I would have saved.
  • Current Mood: accomplished Heh
  • Current Music: She Wants Revenge
Our immediate social circle is rather liberally endowed with people who'd be disconcertingly efficient on a military perimeter, but I fear your hubby was top of the list. I have absolutely no idea where the string bikini came from. We must have had a reason. Now I think about it, I think the full image was a string bikini and a knife in his teeth. We had bumpycat up trees doing sniper cover.

It was one of those weekends. I remember it fondly.
Man...I don't even think I was at that weekend...but the string thong and knife in the teeth image was the stuff of legend!
Actually, further mature reflection suggests it was Stillbaai, not Wilderness, and I'm pretty sure you were there. You had toothache, and we went on a quest for clove oil.
Hahahaha...I remember that weekend...I think I resorted to to tequila when the clove oil mission failed. I still remember the thong...and for some reason I seem to recall it was red! I actually just unearthed some pictures from that weekend a couple of weeks ago in which we appear to be wearing silly hats and playing cards...
Gah, I miss weekends like that sometimes. I have fond memories of one where we decided to hold a Tequila Olympics. Well done on getting Winona back!
I can't help but want to hum http://www.lyricsfreak.com/p/primus/wynonas+big+brown+beaver_20110940.html

everytime I see the word "Winona"