As you may be aware, the T in the Park lineup has just been announced: you can see it in all its mocking-my-cynicism glory, including the National, the Pogues and headliners REM, on the website.
My sister got early bird tickets, as per tradition. She would like to know who the hell that Rage Against The Machine headlining on the Saturday are, and whether they sing Enchanted songs.
Now begins the indoctrination process before I become a fully-fledged convert to the Church of Mac. You see, I sorta did a silly thing yesterday, and it went a little something like this: I’ve been having a wee problem with my iPod Touch in that every time I sync it to iTunes it resets the time to something ridiculous on the 22nd January. I’d managed to get it to stop when it originally started happening by doing a Google search and overriding some settings, but when Lola was up – as if in protest at its connection to my manky laptop when there were two pretty MacBooks in the room – it developed the fault again and I couldn’t fix it. So I took it to the nice iPod Doctor at the Apple Store in Buchanan Street, where they poked and prodded and overrode all the settings, before telling me that it was an incompatibility issue with Windows Vista and that I’d just have to put up with it.
On receiving the news I had been expecting, because Vista is a pig of an operating system and I hate it, I sighed and said, “Okay. I’m buying a MacBook.”
The Mac “Genius” smiled nervously, while somebody next to me burst out laughing.
I repeated my intentions again.
“It’s not supposed to work like that!” the “Genius” protested, as if to reassure other shoppers that he and his like are not employed to convince us to purchase sleek, shiny gadgets that we neither need or want. And I thanked him, stepped off the stool and headed downstairs, where after twenty minutes chatting with a salesman and trying out the merchandise I left with a sleek white MacBook by the name of iRena.
It’s just – can I work the bloody thing?! My first frustation came when trying to copy my iTunes Library over. I found a hack online, screwed it up because I don’t speak the language of Mac and have now lost all my playcounts, ratings and playlists. It took me ages to override my browser settings so that new windows always open in tabs, and even then it only does it when it feels like it. I can’t right-click and drag, or right-click and delete, or indeed right-click and anything since there is no right-click.
“You just need to stop thinking like a Windows user,” says Jay, that boyfriend of mine who loves Apple more than he loves me. “Don’t approach things as a Windows user would, just ask yourself what the most logical thing to do would be and do it.” But I’m almost 26, and have been using Windows since they invented computers back when I was a lass, and the most logical thing to do is to do it the Windows way!!
Ignore my whining. I know I’m going to grow to love my MacBook like I’ve never loved anything, even my iPod Touch. But until then, I feel like a native Spanish speaker learning Portugese. Everything’s a little bit familiar, and does the same thing in the end, but it’s totally different.
The weekend starts here. I’ve just had a lovely lunch at Stereo with Tim and Jehane after finally finding the right city centre back-alley. Tonight my sister is coming over for much-needed Sister Time (both High School Musical movies back to back, I have been promised) and of course there is TROT later if ma wee legs can hack it. Saturday is Bingo Granny Night at the Blonde’s, and I intend to make experimental strawberry daiquiri cupcakes in preparation.
PS Damn timezones when things happen too late for you to post about timeously. If you ain’t got enough of that Valetine stuff yet, my dear American friend Douglas Martin has a little musical treat for y’all: download Bourbon and Bedsheets (ft. two original tracks plus covers of songs by Akron/Family, The Shins, PJ Harvey and others) at sound on the sound.
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