Nicole
My room.

"Or as I like to call it, the Death Star. It is not yet operational."

Not quite.

The good news is this; with careful nudges and a new internet connection, the desk Stacey brought up is now in my room, computer all set up (albeit the printer), and my notebook sitting open, pencil on top, already with new stuff in it. Not much, but something. There are, however, a few problems.

The biggest issue actually isn't all that big because there exists a very simple solution to the problem. The surge protector is sitting right next to an outlet, ready to rock and roll. However, as we all know, surge protectors have three-prong plugs, and the outlet is old, lame, and thus has only two. And so my computer, though looking pretty on the desk, can't be turned on simply because I can't plug it in. I need a converter (or whatever they're really called) to enable me to finish the job, but we're out here, so I need to go find a new one. Not all bad because I need to get my hands on a nice desk lamp too. It's times like these that I miss Bloomington because everything you needed was right up the road, a bus ride/friend's car (haha) away, whereas here, if you can't get it at IGA or our lame-ass Wal-Mart, you have to drive 20-30 minutes to get to Champaign to get it. Oh sigh.

The other problem isn't really all that major, it's just a little frustrating. As many of you know, I don't have a super-awesome connection here. It's just dial-up. Old school, slow-as-a-freaking-sloth-on-a-bad-day dial-up. Okay, so it's really not that bad, but it doesn't exactly hold much of a candle to the zippiness we had at school. Our dial-up is about $13, which is (understandably) why my parents are reluctant to get rid of it. What with mom working at Walgreens now and dad still at U of I (excuse me while I throw up) grad school, money is a big tight (so they say: they tend to say that all the time and then just the other night we went out to eat, see a movie, and then get dessert afterwards. I'm not going to complain about that, but if money was so tight, shouldn't we not be doing that kind of thing?), so going cable/DSL for however much isn't all that appealing. Okay, I'll bite. So with a new mission (as dad always calls them), I went downstairs to his near-bachelor apartment style basement, hopped onto his laptop, and put the info for the internet connection on this computer on there, so now even the idea of a wireless dial-up network (which, as that doesn't exist, would lead to wireless internet which leads to something nice and fast) is out the window, as he can now get online downstairs (though it cuts off anyone getting online up here) there is no need for any network or internet change at all. Too bad for me, as I could have easily skipped onto the wireless network with my comp. But as much as that sucks, I can live without it. I have just enough patience for dial-up, and the only thing (for me) a faster connection is good for is video, audio, and downloading.

*3 days, a few workouts, several cookies, and a partridge in a pear tree later...*

I began this blog on Sunday. I was interrupted by a brief hiking trip to Allerton Park and never got back to finishing this until, um, now, because I'm lazy and forgetful.

Where was I? Oh, yes, the not yet operational Death Star room.

Wal-Mart didn't have what I needed. Go figure. There are still several things I need to do, like hang up my shadow boxes of seashells (instead of having them laying all over - they're pretty cute, which I had a digital camera to show you guys), and sell a bunch of junk to get it out of my way so I can put other objects elsewhere. About the desk lamp, well that was taken care of too. I'm the hand-me-down receiver of just about anything. During my life I've gotten things from Stacey, mom, even Ashley (who is my younger sister - hand me ups?), and dad. Different people mean different categories of stuff. And I'm not just talking clothes here. I'm talking CDs, jewelry, hiking/camping equipment, furniture, blah blah blah. I'm selling some of Stacey's stuff at the garage sale because it's too good to throw away, she doesn't want it, and neither do I. Sha-zam. Oh, right, I digress; the desk lamp. I used to have one, it was a bad purchase because it was virtually useless after freshman year when the bunkbeds went out the window. So I gave it to Stacey. Dad has a desk lamp downstairs. It's kind of small, but I think it might work since I mentioned "I need a desk lamp" and he offered it up, claiming he didn't use it a lot anyway. Good times (if it works).

Little lights on the horizon include a trip to Target since they have a CD of piano music I've been hunting for for a long time now, finding a converter for my computer/surge protector plug, and hopefully a trip to Stacey's for about a week. Dad happens to be planning a 3 day camping/climbing (haha, maybe) trip because the parents of a kid named Chris, a kid he used to work with who has RAD (I'll explain in a second), want to go camping with him again like last year - only this time I'm getting dragged along. But since it's southern Illinois we camp at, that means I'm basically next door to Stacey and can be dumped off at the end of the trip to leech off her for a while (muwahahaha).

Now you all know I don't mind camping. However this time of year things are getting hot, the rain still randomly shows up, and Illinois sucks when it comes to the woods because of the happy abundance of ticks, flies, and mosquitoes. Oh joy. Bug spray my ass up. I hate ticks - they're Satan's work, I swear. Aside from the impending threat of Lyme, West Nile, and other bug-carrier diseases, RAD means Reactive Attachment Disorder. You can look it up for the details, but in short, this kid is the type that, if not taught right to control his behavior and whatnot, will be the next serial killer on the evening news. Goody, goody. According to dad, Chris is okay with other people (and I guess he's getting better), so it's not like I have to worry about him coming after me or anything.

How awesome is that? But it's really not all bad like it may sound, hanging out here at home. I mean, if I really wanted I could just shut myself up in my room and I doubt I'd get bothered.

I think I'm going to write today, even though I reeeelly wish my computer were up and running because I'm starting to go through the beginnings of withdrawl from my music. Radio stations here totally blow, and I only have a handful of CDs, most of which I've listened to about a gazillion times as it is.

"What the hell is an aluminum falcon??"
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