mcgrew's Journal: -- Bad Day

Let me clip your dirty wings -- Nirvana

Sometimes September 13th is bad luck for me, probably karma making up for the good luck I had on Friday, September 13th 2002 when Evil-X left. This was one of those years, and it started a day early.

I fired up the slow, ancient IBM laptop with the thumb drive sticking out the back and watched some TV. My phone was next to me, and it startled me when it beeped. I looked at it, and its bluetooth icon was flashing blue. "Shit," I thought, "somebody's trying to hack my phone."

The bad hard drive in the IBM had stopped its annoying clicking noise, and I realised that it was my own computer that was trying to hack my phone. I didn't know the old ThinkPad had bluetooth. It didn't occur to me yet that I would be able to get out those music files I'd recorded from a live band that were too big to email.

I took the netbook up to Felbers to have a beer while fiddling around in Linux, which was a BAD idea. My thought was to read the man pages and so forth; It's been a while since I've used Linux. My brain seemed to be showing showing its age; ten years ago I could build a computer from spare parts and install the OS while drunk and stoned at the same time. Somehow I wound up with two instances of Linux, so I decided to put the computer away and drink in the beer garden.

The phone rang. It was an old friend I hadn't seen in a while. "Why don't you come get me?"

"I don't think I've got enough gas to get there, I know I don't have enough to get there and back." I'm usually broke a day or two before payday when the previous payday was rent and car payment. After that, food, cleaning stuff, electronic gizmos, and DVDs I don't have much money left.

"I can put some gas in your car if you can make it here."

"Well, I could at least get close. I have a gas can in the trunk."

"I'll meet you at the gas station by my apartment," she said.

I'd had the radio playing for three hours by then, and the car wouldn't start. And I just replaced the battery a few months ago. Luckily the guy parked next to me was willing to give me a jump, and luckily I have cables in the trunk that I'd bought after I'd replaced the battery.

It made it to her apartment, and she prepaid for the gas before hitting me with bad news. "You have to promise not to tell anybody."

"I promise, not tell what?"

"I'm dying."

"WHAT?" Dying? Damn, she's twenty years younger than me. Dying? "What do you mean you're dying?" I asked, shocked.

"I have lung cancer. I'm not going through chemo or radio, I'm just going to enjoy myself as long as I can. Would you take me to Felber's and get me drunk?"

I felt like crying. It sucks being in your late fifties. The older you get, the more people go dying on you.

Damn. Cigarettes. She probably smokes two packs a day, and cancer runs in her family. Her mother would be a year older than me if she was still alive; I met her mother shortly before she died of "the big C" a few years ago.

She said she's probably got a year at the most. We dropped the car at my house, walked to the bar and indeed got trashed, and took two forty ounce bottles of beer and a half pint of whiskey home and drank some more. Knowing one's own mortality changes a person radically. She'd threatened to sue if I ever wrote about her. I had anyway.

"I want a printed copy of your book."

"Well, I can print it out, but it's just in PDF form right now," I said.

"Oh, you know how I said not to write about me? I changed my mind. I want you to write about me, as a warning to others not to fuck up like I have. And I want to be remembered."

"I already have," I admitted, and pulled up a slashdot journal. She read it and started cursing me.

"Damn it, Steve, God gave you all these talents and you let them go to waste. You paint, you draw, you write, you play guitar, and you waste it. You have all these talents nobody else has and you don't use them for anything. How long has it been since you picked up your guitar?"

"It's been a while," I admitted.

"Let me read something else you've written."

More going wrong, thanks to the booze. I have it set to hibernate when the lid's closed, and had learned shortly after I got the netbook not to plug it in until the lights stop flashing or Windows gets confused and pukes like an overdosing junkie. I forgot, thanks to the beer, and had plugged it in before the lights stopped flashing. I turned it on, and it started running chkdsk.

Oops!

Then it got to where the login should be, but instead of a password prompt, it said that its policies said access was denied. If you're a programmer for Microsoft, you should be ashamed of yourself. Once I get to my pictures and music and books and other data I'm going to back it up, wipe the whole drive and make it single boot again -- linux only. Windows is more of a pain in the ass than a hemmoroid operation. If you've ever had one, you know what I'm talking about.

"Sorry, the damned things's fucking up. I'll have to fix it after I'm sober." I'd forgotten I had Linux on it, even though it went through GRUB to get to Windows. Like I said, we got pretty trashed.

She made me play my guitar for her; the Nirvana CD had been playing in the car when we dropped it off, and she wanted me to play the parrot song. Fitting, since talk like a pirate day is only a few days off. I couldn't get it very close to being in tune; it badly needs new strings. And I was rusty as hell, and couldn't remember all of it.

"I'm horny," she said after I finished my tortured serenade. "Lets fuck. You got a condom?"

"I have a female condom."

"Shit,I hate those. Well, it'll have to do."

Gees, one shock after another. At least something went right; the day was ending on a good note at least. I tried to talk her into spending the night, but she said she had to be at work at five in the morning. I got her a ride home and went to bed.

Windows was still hosed this morning, and I discovered I'd lost my phone.

I should stop drinking. God but I hate September 13.

After I got to work my desk phone rang. It was Amy, who I'd been trying to call for a week. She's fighting with Tim again and may spend the night with me tonight.

I sure hope so.

Fun with Windows dual booting

[GameboyRMH]

My gaming PC was running Win7 RC at first, I ordered Win7 Ultimate so I could just do an in-place upgrade to a properly licensed version.

But there was going to be some time between when Win7 RC would deactivate itself and I'd get Win7 Ultimate, and my laptop was also dead at the time, so I needed something to use (although this is like driving a Formula One to the convenience store - this PC is an energy guzzler and maintenance-intensive). My plan was to stop using Win7 RC shortly before it deactivated, and

Re:

[mcgrew]

Well, in my case it wasn't the dual booting that was the problem, it was Windows' fault alone. The first time it said Windows wasn't shut down properly and ran chkdsk was shortly after I bought the thing, and Windows and the programs that came on it (and one or two more, like OpenOffice and Foxpro) were all that was installed. I think it hands off to the hardware too fast maybe; it's a design flaw in Windows.

At least I didn't lose my files; It'll boot it into safe mode and I can see them. I'd hate to have t

Re:

[leromarinvit]

For the webcam, you can try Cheese (it should be in the Ubuntu repository). If it doesn't work, run lsusb to see what type it is.