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I am somewhat reasonably certain that I have backed up all the data on my harddrive.
Word of advice. Never ever (ever!) take a Macintosh laptop apart. I mean ever. Unless you have a) all the tools in the world, b) a step by step pictographic guide, and c) aren't particularly worried about putting it back together again.
Seriously.
I like Macs. Have used one as my home computer for years. But, really, could you make the hard drive any harder to get to, Apple?
So the beginning of the week (Saturday), as you know, was crap. And at the end of the week (Friday) my computer died.
Okay, it's not totally dead and I'm reasonably sure I can get all the data off it, but it is currently useless because the wire that connects the screen to the computer is broken and so there's nothing on the screen.
Most everything is backed up though I am not entirely sure I have my latest story or the beginning of the novel. And there are some emails I should answer, but can't because I don't have the email addresses right now. But the only thing that would really make me unhappy to lose would be my photos (which I *think* are backed up, but I'm not 100 percent sure).
So, I guess I'll be buying a new computer soon, which I sort of wanted to do, but also sort of wanted to use the money for other things.
I need to write two bios this week and they are very hard because I am the boringest person alive.
This is what all my bios sound like:
Blah, blah, blah, midwest. Blah, blah, blah dogs. Blah blah, IT. Blah, blah, blah, haven't sold anything to anyone because I'm the Slowest Writer in the World.
Also, it looks like 'The Whale's Lover' will be in the January, 2008 issue of Asimov's.
So this is the sad thing. I put John Henry to sleep yesterday.
You see, his cancer came back. I found out a little over a month ago when I went in to the vet school for his regular quarterly checkup.
So, twelve and a half years old which is, like, the oldest Rottweiler in America (okay, probably not really, but still really, really old). And 26 and a half months after being diagnosed with bone cancer, which is almost unheard of. And he was in really good shape for most of this, able to do everything he wanted to do--go for walks and rides in the car and hang out in the yard.
And it's not enough. It's not.
But while I think he's been happy enough to be here and he hasn't been terribly uncomfortable, I am certain that he's been ready to go since the week of the 4th. He's just been waiting for me to be ready. And last week was a good week. It was a really good week.
Because he would never leave me if he had a choice. He is the one dog I can say that about with absolute certainty. He was my steadfast boy. From, literally, the day I got him, he has never wanted to be anywhere else than with me.
His breeder asked me to take him. He was the last puppy in the litter and he (the breeder) had realized that his temperament was such that he didn't want him to go to just any home. I wasn't going to get a puppy then. I wasn't. But I told the breeder I'd think about it and I took Riley (my dog at the time) for a walk. And when I realized I'd named him in my head, I knew that it was pretty much a done deal. I told the breeder that I would take him but I was going out of town in three days. He said, take him now, let him get used to you and then I'll take him back while you're gone.
So, John Henry came and stayed with me for three days and when I took him back to his breeder to stay while I was out of town, he watched me all the way out the door and into my car. It was that quick. He was my dog from the very first minute.
He got nervous and spun in circles and didn't like men (at the vet school they had this note in his file--"Loves girls, hates men"). He barked at invisible dogs and tried to catch the shadows of light poles as the car passed through them. He was a good and easy traveling companion, always--always!--came when called and in his prime (which was until he was at least eight years old) could jump up and look over the top of a six foot fence.
My female dogs have always been my partners, but John Henry has always been my boy. He did things that scared him because I asked him to. He slept on the bed with me until he broke his leg and then he slept on the floor right next to my head. Even the last week or so, when it got hard to move, he'd still maneuver himself around until he was as close to me as possible. He wanted to know that things would be a certain way and he trusted me to make the world a place that he could handle. I don't know that I always succeeded. But I tried.
John Henry--February 17, 1995-July 21, 2007
--I just sold 'How to Hide Your Heart' to Strange Horizons, which makes me very happy because 1) I sold it, 2) to Strange Horizons and I haven't had anything to send them for awhile, and 3) because I like this story and am excited it's going to be published (yes, I know I'm odd, but I usually like my stories--at least the ones that are actually working)
--I am still working on the outline for 'Ghosts of Fear.' I am at a stuck spot, but I think as soon as I have a half hour or so to sit down and really concentrate, I can get past it.
--I'm hoping to settle in and revise 'Cowgirls in Space' soon. I am pretty sure I've figured out how to explain the certain inexplicable thing so I'm hoping I can get this one in submitting shape pretty soon.
--I'm working on 'Interactions with the Neighbors...' in a haphazard fashion, which is perfect because if and when I get this story to work it will be a very haphazard sort of story.
And that is all from the writing corner today....
Ok, I watched this movie last night and--good, lord--are there actually families like this? Because this story is all about this family nagging the forty-year-old extremely good looking (Diane Lane) and apparently extraordinarily well-paid pre-school teacher into dating again after her divorce. And by nagging, I mean never talking about anything else, ever, posting pictures on her refrigerator of marginally eligible men, and calling her at all hours of the day and night to see if she's dating yet. Because in this movie it's clear that 'I just want you to be happy' means, 'I can't stand to see you living your life without attaching yourself to a man'. What they tell her is to get a life and it's clear that one cannot have one (a life) if one isn't dating a man.
Also, where do these people get their money? Diane Lane is a pre-school teacher living in California in a huge 1920s bungalow that would cost more than a single pre-school teacher in Iowa could afford, let alone California. John Cusack's character builds boats that he never sells and lives in a huge and beautiful loft with a huge and beautiful work space downstairs. He does nothing else and there's no indication that he's ever done anything else. Just builds boats. And doesn't sell them.
Stockard Channing is the best character in the movie as a love interest for Diane Lane's character's father, Christopher Plummer. But although Christopher Plummer is allowed to date billions of women and invite them all to his house at the same time (which the women put up with because in California it appears that it's against the law for any woman ever to date any man who is younger than she is. And since they all must have a man all the time--which we learned from the previous family intervention scene--they just have to put up with dating a man who has several dates at once). Stockard Channing's character handles this with a fair amount of grace (as she's the most mature character in the movie), but good lord, tell him to go jump.
The women act like idiots. The men act like idiots. And I don't get why anyone would want to be with anyone. The best couple in the movie is sixty-one year old Stockard Channing's character and the fifteen year old who meets her on the internet and thinks she's sixteen (because he read her age wrong) and 'so mature.'
Because you know you want them....
