My computer is dead.

Sprite Tesla, my laptop of just over two years, has gone to the repair shop in the sky. They're setting up my hard drive as an external hard drive, so I can move the files over myself when needed. So it's kinda like having her brain in a jar. But it's not the same.

She's dead.

My grandmother is talking to me about getting a new computer, which is nice, but it. . . it's not the same. I love my computer. It holds my life, my writing, everything I've done for the past two years. And now it's gone.

*impatiently clicks 'refresh' on email for two days straight*
*cheers up upon noting a new arrival in the spambox*
*droops on realizing it's trying to sell Viagra*
*sees Yuletide mail arrive*
*squeeflails*
*races through house trying to find the proper volume/issue/DVD/book relevant to request*
*digs a lot*
*finally finds it, races back to computer*
*realizes finger is bleeding*


. . .

*realizes 'Dear Yulegoat' letter hasn't been written*

*flails again*

So, uh, person writing for me, I am not usually this crazy. Sorta. The letter will be up shortly.

If you've had any access to the internet or a bookstore over the past year, you've likely heard about Pride and Prejudice and Zombies -- sending a zombie invasion to Austen's classic work.

The concept worked for me. In reading Pride and Prejudice, I could tell that Lizzy was awesome enough to become a badass zombie killer, if given the opportunity, and that Mr. Bennet was the kind of father to think it was a good idea.

I even splurged on the Heirloom Edition for my birthday, because the full-color illustrations, extended zombie-fightin' sequences, and ultra-awesome binding job (my Girl Genius hardcover collection shows my weakness for deluxe hardcovers) rather drew me in.

Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters . . . it struck me as a bit more random. Didn't feel the need to pick it up.

Now they've announced a third book in the series. And I'm rather wondering how the heck they're able to claim Austen as a co-author on this one.

I liked this series better when they were giving the impression that the random-yet-awesome titles that people came up with in discussion posts would actually have a chance of being created.

I heard about another one from a different publisher that I just might get: Wuthering Bites. Because the original would have made a hell of a lot more sense if Heathcliff were a vampire.

Dear grandmother,

Knowledge of plumbing is not inherently connected to a chromosome. Being a dude does not mean you're better at plumbing. Being a girl does not mean you automatically know diddly-squat about plumbing. I was unable to put a new handle on the toilet before because when I tried to remove the old one with the wrench I found in the basement (and yes, I knew it used reverse threading) the ancient rubber started to dissolve and break off without turning the slightest bit. When you called the plumber to seek professional assistance, the right thing to say when you're unsure about some aspect of it is "I don't know much about plumbing," not "I'm a woman."

I am not only facepalming right now but feeling rather sorry for the men of the world who are inevitably confronted by this kind of mindset and end up feeling like a eunich because they also know squat about plumbing.

At first, you had a daily limit of 72 minutes at a stretch. Not bad. I could watch a full episode of something that blocks non-US viewers for all but the ads, perhaps an hour-long show and a half-hour show sans commercials. It was fair.

The other day, I was cut off at 61 minutes.

Today, 51 minutes.

It's reached the point of extreme frustration and I am highly annoyed.

. . . you are still the best option out there for Canadian viewers. This says more about the alternatives than you.

To recap earlier this evening:
femgenficathon: Yo.
Me: Drat.
Writer's Block: BWHAHAHAHA!
Me: I shall smite thee, writer's block!
Writer's Block: Bring it.
Me: *writes three pages lickety split* Wow, that was fast! Better spellcheck!
OpenOffice: OMG TYPO!
Me: . . . that is my username. Skip.
OpenOffice: . . .
Me: Whut.
OpenOffice: [continues to be frozen for half an hour]
Me: Wha -- did you team up with that bastard?
Writer's Block: *cackles in the corner*

Dear computer,

Where the hell is the accordion music coming from? I know it's not one of those weird stealth banner ads, as I tried closing all the browsers and other active programs and that didn't do anything. It's been playing for well over 20 minutes now, so I'm certain I didn't just open iTunes and it's hiding on me.

Seriously, wtf?

Restarting now and seeing if that does anything.

Yayness abounds, for my awesome brother brought me to Toronto for Fan Expo!

Airport security was much nicer this time around; the guy checking my laptop noted my Loch Ness Monster Adventure Society shirt and we discussed cryptids and Scotland while the five people ahead of me all needed to go through the scanner repeatedly.

I spent a good portion of yesterday cleaning his apartment, as I don't particularly care for it when I feel the need to wear shoes indoors.

I'm having trouble getting my laptop to hook up to his network, so I'm stuck having to borrow his for now; fingers crossed that this shall be remedied shortly.

The last post got me thinking, along with some discussions I've had on the trailer for the upcoming Avatar movie.

I'm not going to comment on the cast; others have done so before me, and said it better than I could. All who were picked earned their place in one way or another, and I wish them the best in life after this, that they lead better lives than the average child star and only make the news for positive things. All I'll say is that none of them really jump out and make you go "OMG, they're the perfect [character they were cast as]" wherein cases like Evanna Lynch being cast as Luna made even people who nitpicked every aspect of the adaptations think she was awesome.

I have no real hopes for Avatar:The Last Airbender to be adapted in a way that will satisfy the fans of the series.

Well, moreso than any given adaptation results in major fandom fallout.

When I first watched Avatar, what really sold me on the series was the awesometastic character development. They didn't just fit into the basic cookie-cutter roles that the cast of the average kids' show would allow, they were people. You could see that they had full lives before the show started, and would still have a ton of work to do and adventures to go on once it ended. They grow and develop and fight scenes leave you conflicted when you start wishing they could both win.

The problem lies in compacting the droolworthy development to the length of a movie -- much less fitting in Aang learning to control three elements from scratch. The latter can be solved, though not in a very satisfactory way, by tossing in training montages every half hour, but not the former. It'd be like that episode of the Simpsons where Homer compacts a spaghetti dinner into bar form. Even if nothing vital is left out, it wouldn't be the same.

And, well. M. Night Shymalan does not have the best track record. He's one of the handful of directors that even those who aren't total film geeks will recognize in name and style, and while I liked the Village, it's the only thing he's done since 2000 that I can say that about. I'd be less worried about the degree to which he'd put his personal mark on the story if his name weren't stamped above the title in all the promotional material. At least he can't have a movie reviewer gruesomely killed in this one . . .

Dear movie theater,

If a movie sells out, that's fine -- it just means it's awesome enough that everyone wanted to go. Not your fault.

But if it does, you should damn well tell those remaining that it's sold out. Or at least let them know before they spend ten freaking dollars for a small popcorn and drink.

Concession prices are horrible enough as it is, but they're easier to accept when people have a movie to distract them.

I figure I should post a follow-up to the last issue of the last arc I said I'd read.
( Somewhat spoily )

After reading far more Twilight Snark than I feel is really healthy, I have now developed a desire to see a spinoff series.

No, no, I haven't gone crazy. But think about it.

She's the psychic vampire that even the snarkers love! He's a werewolf who can do better! Together -- They fight crime!

In Toronto. Have secured internet connection. There are bookstores nearby, which is of the awesome. Wish I could explore tonight, but it's nearly midnight and I am tired. But the books call to me, the siren voices ringing in my ears . . .

Sleep now.

Currently waiting for my flight to Toronto. I have something of mixed luck regarding the searches; I've been able to get through the metal detector with change, metal necklaces, and an iron meteorite in my pocket without a beep, but my bags will always be pulled apart down to the lining.

My habit of having a collection of random, potentially useful items in my bag has betrayed me.

They confiscated two pairs of folding scissors and a multi-tool that I'd forgotten about (one of which was in my first aid kit). And I went on some list.

Just in case you don't hear from me for a while. . .

The first TEN people to comment in this post get to request a drabble of any* pairing/character of their choosing from me. In return, they have to post this in their journal, regardless of their ability level. If you absolutely can't write, I don't see why you wouldn't be able to offer drawings or icons or something instead. Last bit ain't mandatory.