On growing up and moving out and moving back home

I fell apart in a gas station parking lot, because I couldn't figure out how to fill my tires with air. My mom was with me, and she just kept stroking my hair as I burst into tears, telling her how terrified of the world I am, how untrusting of people who offer assistance, and that I'm scared I'll get stabbed in a gas station someday.  I didn't need her to coddle me. I needed someone to have taught me how to do things for myself. Isn't it every father's duty to teach his child how to do stuff?

I never learnt how to change a tire. I'm not sure many people these days are prepared for the worst, and I include guys in this. I know it's a stereotype to say that all guys know or should know how to change a tire, but the reality is that with so many services available, it is not as common as it once was.

I stared in confusion at the mumble jumble of parts underneath the hood of my car, and wondered why there wasn't a manual for this. Turns out, there is a manual. I read it in fascination on the trip home. Did you know there is a schedule of maintenance for car upkeep, and a checklist? I mean, they should require you to take a course before purchasing your first car.

I returned the next day to the same gas station, and forced myself to confront my fear. What I was really afraid of was being out there, looking helpless and weak, having someone offer me help with no way to know if I should trust them or rebuff them. But I figured out how to fill the tire (with some help from youtube), and was relieved to see the tire pressure light go out.

Then the 'service required' light came on, and after checking the manual, figured I needed an oil change. Deciding to push past it and wait until after I got home, we then had to deal with a weird loud flapping noise which turned out to be the front plastic fender liner that got loose and was being shredded by the tire as we drove at 80 mph. Some nice guy offered to help me cut it away, and I let him help. Progress.

All this is teaching me that I need to learn to trust people more, and believe that there are some good people out there who would help a stranger in distress without expecting anything in return.

And also, that owning a car is a lot of work.

I am back in NY, the weather is freezing, the frumies are a culture shock, and I miss having my own place. My brain is foggy, partly due to driving for 2 days and having no idea what up or down. It will take me a few days to adjust, and figure out what my next step is.

I got to play with my nieces and baby nephew today, and that made coming back all worth it.

Resisting change, The Unabomber, and Sheldon Cooper

My laptop has died and gone to laptop heaven. It's over, the end.

I had a whole post prepared (in my head) about how hard it is for me to say goodbye to something that has been a part of me for the past 7 years, how lost and alone I felt when I realized my laptop was not going to turn on again, how much I hate change and tried to compare myself to the Unabomber (eerily enough, we share the same birthday) and how I couldn't even begin to think about buying a new laptop.

Of course, before I got a chance to write it on my teeny tiny phone screen, I watched last week's episode of The Big Bang Theory, and they beat me to it. It was exactly what I was going through.

The episode starts off with Sheldon Skyping with Amy, and his computer screen is staticky and the sound is breaking up.

Amy: (through static): I didn't understand your e-mail.
Sheldon: Uh, can you repeat that? You're breaking up.
Amy: I didn't understand your e-mail.
Sheldon: Ah. Yeah, I had to get a little creative because the S, R and M keys on my laptop stopped working.
(Amy reading the email) "Deaw Aby, could you pleathe dwive be to the twain thtow thubtibe tobowow?"
Sheldon: So, is that a yes?
Amy: Sheldon, why don't you get a new computer? You know that one's out-of-date.
Sheldon: Oh, but I like this computer.
Amy: The video is failing, and the sound is cutting out.
Sheldon: I'm sorry, I didn't get that.
Amy: (through static): The video is failing, and the sound is cutting out.
Sheldon: I'm sorry, one more time.
Amy: (holding up a handwritten sign that says:) "The sound is cutting out."
Sheldon: I can't read that! The video is failing!
Amy: (through static): Get a new computer.
Sheldon: What?
Amy: (through static): Get a new computer.
Sheldon: What?!
(phone rings)
Sheldon: Hello?
Amy: Get a new computer!

Later on, Sheldon is sitting in front of his laptop and the screen flickers and then dies. He gasps, closes it and sighs.

Amy walks in.

Amy: I got here as quickly as I could.
Sheldon: You're too late.
(Sheldon plays the funeral song "Taps" on his phone. He ceremoniously covers his laptop with a black cloth.)
Amy: Sheldon, this is silly.
Sheldon: You got emotional when that lab monkey died.
Amy: That lab monkey told me he loved me in sign language.
("Taps" ends)
Sheldon: Great. Now I'm gonna have that song in my head all day.
Amy: Look, I'm-I'm sorry for your loss, but I think I have something that might make you feel better.
I got you a new computer!
Sheldon: How could you do that?
Amy: Do what?
Sheldon: Choosing a new laptop is an incredibly personal ritual. You have taken away weeks of agonizing thought, tedious research, sleepless nights filled with indecision. Haven't I lost enough today?
Amy: Well, the guy at the store said this one is great.
Sheldon:  Oh! Oh, the guy! Oh, pardon me. I-I didn't realize you'd spoken to the guy. Yeah, tell me, did the guy choose one with a 4K display and a Thunderbolt port?
Amy: Yes.
Sheldon: Yeah? D-Did the guy make sure that this has a one-terabyte solid-state drive?
Amy: Yes.
Sheldon: Yeah? Oh, well, was this guy Rick from Computer Solutions on Colorado?
Amy: Yes.
Sheldon: (Resigned) Yeah, well, he does know his stuff... I suppose I should set this up. Or would you like to rob me of that, too?
Amy: Knock it off or I'll start making W-H sounds for words that just have a W.
You wouldn't.
Amy: "Hwatch" me.
Sheldon: Fine. I'm sorry. Thank you for the thoughtful gift. I really do appreciate it. As you know, I had become attached to my old laptop. But I'm sure, in time, that this one will (gasps) Jeepers creepers, that started up fast!
Amy: I thought you might like it.
Sheldon: Look at the 4K resolution. Next time we Skype, I'm gonna count all those nostril hairs.
Amy: Or you could just look into my eyes.
Sheldon: But you only have two eyes. You got a lot of nostril hairs.
Amy: Well, you know, as long as you're happy.
Sheldon: Oh. I am.
Amy: (chuckles) And Rick said you could bring in your old one to recycle it.
Sheldon: Oh. Uh, no, no, no, thank you.
Amy: Oh, but he said you can get store credit.
Sheldon: Well, no, I just I-I don't want to recycle it. And I don't want store credit.
Amy: But why wouldn't
Sheldon: Can we please change the subject?
Amy: O-Okay. How 'bout we change it to why you're being weird about this?
Sheldon: I'm not being weird. It's hard to explain.
Amy: Sheldon, just tell me.
Sheldon: It might be easier to show you.
Amy: Okay.
Sheldon: We'd have to take your car.
Amy: All right.
Sheldon: And I'm gonna need you to sign a nondisclosure agreement.
Amy: Well, I signed one before we slept together. Why not now?


As if I haven't spoiled this episode for you enough, Sheldon takes Amy to a storage space, and shows her that he has kept everything he has ever owned in his entire life. Old electronics, books, a ziplock bag filled with ziplock bags, a tennis ball that his brother threw at his head. He is embarassed that someone as smart and emotionless as himself would hold on to all this stuff. Like a hoarder, he has a hard time throwing anything away.

I do understand him. I have bins of old stuff from kindergarten through college, random projects, keychains, mugs, old tests. I can't throw it out because I feel like without it I somehow don't exist. That once my memories fade or become discolored by the negative experiences, I will be able to go back to these physical reminders of what life once was. (Although, my parents had a flood in their basement so I don't even want to venture a thought as to what state my bins are in.)

With my laptop, it was the first thing I ever really owned of value, that was only mine, password protected, held things important to me, and in a way helped to insulate me from the world. It was the place I would disapear into when I wanted to forget things, it was the place I went to chill, to procrastinate, to pour some of my best work into. It was like my best friend, a large part of me.

Suddenly I look around and realize how much things have changed, how outdated and obsolete Windows 7 is, and it is hard for me to comprehend purchasing and getting used to a new laptop. So I am letting myself air out, be without it for now, and slowly come to terms with moving on.