It's not in a box. anymore...
My family used to have a little joke we developed along with our habit of moving every few years. Every time we couldn't find something the answer was "it's in a box." I've been living here for a while, but something about my visit to the container store (a GREAT retail experience, by the way... better than the apple store) to buy a few of their exclusive-to-the-container-store white sterilite storage containers has cause an organize my house meltdown. Of course I ended up having a bunch of other organization tools delivered, thinking I would eventually start throwing stuff out to reorganize what had become a stack of white file-archiving boxes from Staples.
feng shui attack! (Yes, Jenny, I still have my Nintendo).
So here I am, happily scarfing a pop tart (you can get those delivered here in New York) looking out over the vast, comparitively desolate landscape that is my little home. I've spent the last four hours, already exhausted from a busy day, opening every box I had stored in closets and tossing old junk. I had no idea the extent to which I am a pack rat. I found the packaging for every piece of technology I have bought in the last three years, most of the corresponding techno-geekery, two years worth of magazines, too many random "to do" lists from grad school, and even the recovery disks for my very first laptop. (Toshiba Satellite, ca. 1997, P133, 32MB of RAM baby!)
And believe it or not my new macbook is resting on my bed. Earlier than expected. Unopened. Taunting me. I think it's too cool to come out until my home represents the proper environment for a computer that wears a tuxedo. My cluttered desk was ok for anodized aluminum, a RISC processor, and 1024x768 pixels. But this is flat-black (stay away from me with that spraypaint, Dad), *INTEL* (I don't need no reduced instruction set), and wide screen.
Now it's time to continue the tradition of taking a screwdriver or putty knife to my new computer before I even turn it on... time to add 2 GB of ram.
((Incoherence and probable misspellings not intentional, but I can't keep my eyes open. Now, where's my screwdriver set? I'm not going to be able to find anything for weeeeeks))