Why wait, I ask. Why drag myself through a week of online price comparison and consumer reviews when I find the tool I want, nail down a decent price, and can drive to the store to get it? Why indeed? Especially when you learn during the drive that Your Sister prefers the revived death-metal stylings of Metallica and will gently bang her head while wearing a knit cap and braids like an Olympics snowboarder and look cute as hell doing it.
Now I have a laptop. An HP Pavilion Something Something with a 17-inch screen. It has a full keyboard including number pad. It's vast. The iPad is 9.5 x 7.5. My new monster is 17 x 15. Massive. Also? It's fucking speedy. All the claims about Windows Home have proven right. It loads quick, it provides Mac-like taskbar screen previews, and the security controls are manageable. Your Sister's laptop is smaller but it has the touch monitor that may be detachable. I'm not sure. After some online consultation, I learned my PC's motherboard may be hosed, and the hard drive might be OK. I'm thinking of wiping it and using it as an external home drive for the laptop.
I configured my laptop (which needs a name) while watching the Olympics. I also played with Skype for some online chatting. That's a handy program. Your Sis even said hi to some of my geek buddies. Then she saw my newest cartoon about potential birth defects, and we talked a little about potentially raising a handicapped child.
Picture of the Day
Steve Nash at the Opening Ceremonies from Big Picture. This guy had a big weekend. He flew up from Phoenix to Vancouver on Friday, helped light the torch, flew down to Dallas for the All-Star Weekend on Saturday, won the skills challenge that night, and played in the All-Star Game Sunday.
I've enjoyed the games so far despite a snakebit host country. The luge death and torch snafu Friday, no snow for the ski events causing training runs and games to be postponed or lost, a new problem with the speed skating center, and the usual squirrely judging in the figure skating events. I hope it doesn't get worse.