God hates my Macbook.

Hoo, boy, I've had some delightful dealings with technology people in these past few weeks. Between trying to get Rogers to upgrade my phone (that's another epic for another day) and the exploits of today, it seems that most customer service people have become so jaded and spiteful that they really just don't care anymore. But right now I'm here to complain mostly about my Macbook, and how it's becoming abundantly clear that God, the ultimate in customer service reps, really just has it in for my poor machine. Maybe I'm courting disaster by having the Flying Spaghetti Monster decal on the back, maybe I just got a lemon, but seriously, this is getting ridiculous.

Here, in chronological order, is the story of my Macbook.

- August 20, 2007: Happy Mia brings home her very own laptop, just in time for her move out to Victoria. My father, tech fiend that he is, recommends the Applecare extended warrenty, and nags me until I set it up. I will later thank him many times over. The first part of this year is filled with joy and happy.

- December 2007: While home for the holidays, I upgrade to Leopard.

- January 2008: My first hard drive failure. I am understandably distraught, but the guys at the UVic computer store are able to retrieve all information. In thanks, I make them brownies. The top case (where the keyboard, mouse, etc are) is cracking. I am charged $50 for the labour required to get my stuff back.

- November 13, 2008: The mouse button has completely ceased to function, and the case has cracked even further. A replacement of the case solves all of these problems, thankfully, giving me back the ability to click on things without using the trackpad. Covered by Applecare.

- November 19, 2008: I'm back in the shop again, to report that my battery has lost so much power that it will die without warning within an hour. It is just over the 300 charge cycles that is the maximum point in the warrenty, thus necessitating that I buy a new battery at full cost. I also upgrade my RAM from 1GB to 4GB. Total cost: $303. 52

- February 2009: My second hard drive failure, again for absolutely no discernible reason. I am lucky twice and the guys get my data back. $50 for labour, no charge for the new hard drive. The plastic border around my screen is also cracking, and that is repaired as well. It is also at this point when my dad gives me THE MONOLITH, one of my two faithful external hard drives, with the caution "it might fail if it's left on too long, but here ya go." Having learned my lesson, I now back up fairly regularly.

- March 2009: I buy my second faithful external hard drive, a 500GB MyBook. At this point, I do several different kinds of backups to several different kinds of drives (I have USB sticks stashed in strategic corners of my room that hold copies of my Documents folder). My Macbook has warped me into a twisted, superstitious creature. I will not leave my laptop on a soft surface, I schedule it to shut down each night, and have installed hard drive status checkers, web site checkers, and ad blockers, and I have combed through the hard drive trying to make more room on it. I know it's illogical, but I figure that the thing won't die if it has some extra GBs to breathe with. If the computer does crash and I am forced to reboot it, I will not look at it for several minutes. In fact, I will leave the room and let it load, because I know that if I look at it funny it'll fail on me just to be a bitch.

- April 2009: I start to notice that my power adapter is not charging as well as it used to, but I am in the middle of exams and cannot afford to send it away to Apple to be looked at.

- July 2009: It is firmly established that one of the pins in my power adapter has come loose, severely weakening the connection it can make with the machine. I figure out various ways to keep it on its feet because I have no time to send away for a new one, which would necessitate the old one being taken from me first. Furthermore, the battery (which is only 8 months old) begins to show signs of dying as it receives weaker and weaker signals from the power cord, until it will only run for about an hour on its own.

- August 2009: I make not one, but TWO attempts to go to TWO different Apple stores in an effort to get these parts exchanged. The Geniuses at both stores cannot be bothered to have available appointments.

- Monday: I sit on the phone with Applecare for a full hour, talking to three different, very nice people, about this problem. The second one assures me that she will send me a new power adapter and I can even keep the old one. I am then transferred to a Brooklynese guy named Johnathan, to whom I tell all my woes about this computer in an effort to maybe make a case for getting a new machine. He assures me that he will send me a new power cord (!) and a new battery, and all I have to do is send the old ones back. Fedex will deliver them in a minimum of four business days.

- Yesterday: While washing the dishes, I miss Fedex by two minutes.

- Today: While sneezing, I miss Fedex's ring of the doorbell AGAIN. After sitting on the phone with them, no sooner do I hang up when there is a passive-aggressive delivery woman at the door with three packages. Maybe the third one has the shipping boxes, I figure, but no, they've sent me two power adapters, as well as a battery. If I can, I plan to keep the second one, for the inevitable day when something else goes wrong. Oh, yeah, and the top case has cracked again.

Seriously, I think God hates my computer. This thing is exactly two years and one week old; I know because I checked all of this out in an attempt to make a case to Apple. I like their products, but seriously, it's like a circus machine.

Albums of the Summer (so far)

I, like everyone, have certain albums or songs that define my summers. I think summer music is like summer love; it may sneak up on you, totally surprising you, but it's love at first listen and that love is passionate and pure. With no school to busy yourself with, and possibly some excess cash due to a summer job, you court the albums, going to concerts and reveling in their beauty. Despite knowing you should listen to other things, you can't help yourself, and you devote all of your time to these albums until your other albums become resentful and claim you're not being a good friend (or maybe that's just me). And, when September rolls around and the leaves begin to fall, you realize that while the music is still there, somehow the magic is gone; while you can still give a listen once in a while, it's never the same.

Okay, it's an extended metaphor, but I defy you to tell me it doesn't work. So, without further adieu, here are my love affairs for this summer:

1. "No Nations", by Jets Overhead

I really, desperately hope that this one ends up lasting through September and possibly for the rest of my life. I've loved Jets Overhead from the moment I heard them open for Our Lady Peace back in 2006; they're Victoria natives, and their music reflects that islander quality. Their first album, Bridges, is delightfully laid-back and expressive, but No Nations is a complete gem. Whereas Bridges was a collection of songs, No Nations feels like a total, cohesive whole; it begins with the stellar "I Should be Born", and keeps up pace until the dirgelike, slow-building finale of "Tired of the Comfort". It's dreamy, it's meditative, and I can't think of a single flaw except that it's over too quickly. Totally, completely perfect.
Recommended songs: "I Should Be Born", "Heading for Nowhere", "It's a Funny Thing". Oh, hell, everything.

2. "O My Heart", by Mother Mother

This album is a ton of fun, mainly because every song is memorable, and occasionally, totally surprising. I first listened to this album while gardening, and each time I thought "meh, this song doesn't sound too impressive, maybe I'll change it", I was totally blown away. Mother Mother is cheeky, unapologetic, and totally addictive; their lyrics are fantastically strange, like most indie these days, but the songs are complex while still being accessible and a lot of fun. I'm also impressed by the range of songs on O My Heart; the title track sounds like something a pissed-off Joan Jett could have produced if she were more indie, "Body" alternates between a completely bizarre rhyming biology lesson and a surprisingly emotional note to an ex, "Ghosting" is one of the most honest indie ballads I've ever heard, and "Hay Loft" sounds like a song the Children of the Corn might have learned while at evil pre-school. Mother Mother sounds like those weird, fun, arty kids in high school who you wanted to be because they were so goddamned creative at every turn. And, for all of this range, Mother Mother never loses their sense of identity, and they're compulsively, terrifically, awesomely, confidently fun.
Recommended songs: "Wrecking Ball", "Wisdom", "Burning Pile", "O My Heart"

3. (tie) "We Have the Facts and We're Voting Yes" and "Transatlanticism" by Death Cab for Cutie

aannnndd continuing the grand tradition of me falling in love with things that were popular and relevant several years ago....
I won tickets to go see Death Cab (at a Jets Overhead concert, actually), and I was blown away by the subtle, mournful beauty of their earlier stuff. Until then I'd only heard Plans and Narrow Stairs, but these two earlier albums are filled with the kind of music that I like to call apocalyptic; they're not necessarily about the end of the world, but while I listen to them I tend to slip into a solitary, meditative, quietly mourning existence that I think I'd be like if I were the last person on earth. This is the sort of music I love when I feel that dark creativity in my head that produces the very best writing, and Death Cab for Cutie is perfect for it.
Recommended songs: "The Employment Pages", "Title Track", "Transatlanticism"

and a few single songs that have dominated in between...
- "Percussion Gun", by White Rabbits; I'm obsessed with this song. You should be too. It's AWESOME.
- "Baptized by Fire", by Spinnerette; like "Ghetto Love", except WAY better.
- "Stadium Love", by Metric; I love their new album, but this one keeps standing out. It's probably the coolest final track they've ever made. Oh yes, I did just go there.
- "Battlefield", by Jordin Sparks; okay, someone on So You Think You Can Dance did an incredible routine to this, and I fell for it purely for that reason. Everyone gets a guilty pleasure.

Lament for a Stat Holiday

At the moment I'm not quite convinced that BC Day isn't just another Valentine's Day, except more insidious in its subtlety. Here is a holiday specifically primed to let you spend time with friends and lovers, and so for a friendless, loveless sap like me, two BC Days in a row have passed with fuck-all for me to do, fun-wise.
Last year, I was working in a cafe on Government street, squarely in the middle of the biggest tourist area of Victoria, and my managers decided that having a massive free concert a few blocks down the street wouldn't generate too much foot traffic and that it was a great idea to take the day off. Of course, they were right, the shift passed uneventfully, and I even got a cute guy's number.

Nah, I'm kidding. We were swamped beyond swamped, fantastically understaffed, and I may have thrown money at more than a few ignorant customers in moments of pure frustration and horror. It was endless people, swarms of bodies clamoring for hot chocolates and sandwiches, and the stress of lineups out the door was doubled when I realized that each and every one of these people was going to have far more fun today than I would get to have all week. Hell, they even got to eat dinner, unlike me. At the end of the night, I slumped back home on the bus, surrounded by revelers who had just seen Feist and were mostly drunk off their gourds. Cute girls with flat stomachs and short shorts flirted with surfer boys holding water bottles full of vodka, and I, in espresso-stained Converses and a sweat-soaked black top, was the audience to this absurdly attractive mating ritual. I put on my ipod and tried not to cry too obviously.

This year, I find myself in a state of self-exile from Victoria due to having absolutely nobody to hang out with there. My friends have gone home, mostly, and the ones I did hang out with regularly are either busy or have broken up with me--not that I'm bitter, but it makes for a bit of a lonely existence. I've been living with my parents in Parksville, and today we went to a provincial park in the hope of taking a nice hike in the woods. By the river were endless families, some with young children and dogs, all having fun in the water. A large group of teens cliff-jumped, girls in bikinis sunned themselves, and, once again, absolutely everyone else seemed to have far more fun than I.

I write this not to complain, for I know that there are steps I could take to counter my situation. I accept where I am for the day, but it causes me to wonder if I'll ever enjoy a statuatory holiday like BC Day. It's all very well and good if you have people to go to the river with, see the awesome free concert with, or bombard the hapless barista with; it's wonderful when you have pals to drink with, to enjoy a summer BBQ with. But with none of those things, BC Day does become another Valentine's Day, that dreaded moment in late winter when those of us who are alone come to the awful realization that there are more attractive people out there who are having a lot more fun. Except that there aren't as many foil-covered chocolates to gorge oneself on in early August.