My Laptop Graveyard

My Laptop Graveyard

I silently cried in eighth grade while staring at the blank computer monitor because I didn’t know how to turn it on.

By my junior year of high school, I knew how to turn the computer on, but that was about it.

Two advanced students rotated in and out as my tutor. I still could barely keep up with the influx of knowledge that just plum baffled me.

I purchased a laptop with my graduation money (a Toshiba) but had no idea what to do with it. I toted it to and from my college classes, figuring it would give me some academic validity along with my purple, heart-dangle glasses (don’t ask).

I killed the laptop within the year, mainly because I would forget it was in my backpack and then chuck it across the room.

I double-majored in English and communication arts with a creative writing emphasis, so there was no shying away from writing papers. And to write papers, I needed to use a computer.

I still remember the day I discovered how to use a jump drive; you would’ve thought, from my elation, that I’d invented the epidural or sliced bread.

But then, my senior year of college, I took a computer class that required us to build a website from scratch.

My skin gets peppered with dots just thinking about it.

I spent hours upon hours trying to figure out this acronym called HTML, but it was no use. I was floundering and my professor knew it. He asked if he could look at my laptop—to see if he could fix the problem—and then his eyes spun behind his glasses as he looked at my disorganized folders.

“You’re not very linearly-minded, are you?” he asked.

No, I’m not, which works great for writing a novel but not so great for understanding technology.

Case in point: my laptop crashed this week, and I hadn’t backed up the edits on my manuscript since I turned it in to my publisher in June.

I tried popping out the battery and turning it on in safe mode, but beyond hitting it with a hammer or pushing all the keys at once, I was at a loss.

So I opened the cupboard and took out my HP, figuring I could at least work on blog posts and essays while my other computer figured out if it was going to give up the ghost or keep coming back for more.

Last night, however, I really felt like multi-tasking.

I was going to get a bowl full of coconut chocolate ice-cream with fresh raspberries, light some candles, and finish watching Pride and Prejudice (the Colin Firth version) while wedging my nine-month-pregnant self in the bathtub.

But since we don’t have a TV, I use my laptop to play DVDs.

My Dell laptop was at the computer doctor, and my HP had mysteriously lost the ability to play DVDs around the same time it went flying off the treadmill this winter and split apart along the side.

So I again popped open the door to the cupboard and took out my other Dell laptop, which I got as a replacement after I killed my Toshiba in college.

My husband looked at my assortment of mangled laptops and laughed. “How many do you have?!”

“It’s like a laptop graveyard, isn’t it?” I said and then scooped up the Dell and took it to the bathroom.

“Don’t get it wet,” my husband called after me.

“It’s half-dead anyway,” I said.

“Then at least don’t drop the cord in the water.”

I reassured him that I wouldn’t, but once I was all settled in—condensation dripping down the mirror, candles flickering, and my bowl of ice-cream just perfectly melted—the DVD still would not play.

I popped it out, popped it back in, and considered dropping it on the floor to see if that would set things right, but then finally I just sighed and reached for my book.

Technology has just never been my thing.

How about you? Do you love technology or hate it?