In irony, in terrible terrible irony, my iBook went kaput. The screen turned striped, and faded, the grinding sound was abominable, and then it was like watching a mushroom cloud dissipate across my whole entire (screen) life. (I had not backed up in a long while.) I was devastated. I woke up this morning and remembered and wanted to cry.
I went back and realized I’ve had this iBook longer than I thought. It has been about 4 1/2 years. How many times did I pay for it in those years due to the interest on that loan? I don’t know. My iBook had the life of a pet turtle. But I am not like Kate Winslet in Titantic: I’m not willing to let go just yet.
E, in the final throes of his birthday, performed a miracle. He somehow connected the iBook’s harddrive to an external monitor and we were able to back up all my important data—even my pictures!—onto the iPod. We got everything I could think of (though I forgot my keychain passwords) and then it died for good, giving one little grunt of a last breath. Thank you, E. I won’t borrow your computer when you need it.
It’s the logic board—the hard drive is still okay. I have been a loyal Apple customer since 1994 on my first giant black-and-white laptop. I have personally converted (before their infamous “I’m a Mac” / “I’m a PC” commercials) at least five people who went on to buy Macs because of me; I hand-sold the iPod from my very first model in 2002 to everyone I knew; I have taken jobs or not taken jobs solely on whether I would be on a Mac instead of a PC. I loved OSX so much, I could have eaten it. I am a walking Mac advertisement. They owe me. I would like a free fix please. We are going to the Genius Bar later today to ask for just that. On top of that, tomorrow’s my birthday. Maybe they’ll feel sorry for me and fix it on the spot? Ha. Oh, I’m sad.