At last! After three long months of blood, sweat, toil, and tears, not to mention innumerable all-night screwdrivers-and-coffee-cup sessions and an unethical ammount of perception-altering substances, the original War Machine howls in the night once more.
Let me explain. My father's moving, and gave me my computer from when I was in high school, state-of-the-1996-art, but years of neglect after I moved out had left it a shadow of its wrathful former state. At first, I was planning on pulling my old data, lots of which has emotional significance for me, being from a certain era of my life and all, and then just selling him off for parts, but as I got deeper and deeper into the file structures and hand-sautered (by me, a full third of my life ago) casing...I guess sentimentality got the better of me. I just couldn't bear to leave it in such a pitiful state, it made me feel almost ashamed, like I had failed my old and faithful friend. It's like your first car, or the backpack that you wore all through high school and into college, until the straps are fraying apart and there's more patch than fabric. But it's yours, and more than yours, it's a part of you. So began the Great Reconstruction. It took a week to get it to start up outside of safe mode, I almost lost my hard drive once, and I am as of this very night able to once again get online (my poor 28.8 modem had downloaded his last song years ago). I'm still running on 40 mighty megs of RAM, a 1X CD-ROM drive, and a gig and change in hard drive space (all of which seemed bogglingly overadequate in 1996, remember). But I'm actually online on my own computer, which has been a mighty endevour, and for tonight, I can feel good about that, and we can work on the next problem tomorrow. Viva War Machine!