HOMELY PLANET

Today was one of those false-start good days, a day when you look up at a happy little cloud in the bright azure sky, only to have a bluebird drop a runny white shit on your face. I woke up feeling great and the weather was fantastic, the post-rain air cleared of yellow dust and bus fumes and ajosshi farts. I made a french press of Batdorf and Bronson coffee, opened the window, and put "The Very Best of Guided By Voices" on the stereo. I watched my cats stalk and play and frolic in their new spacious environs. I then took a shower, and after that I began to assemble my computer, in anticipation of the arrival of the internet guy at 11 am.

I've always had an antagonistic relationship with mechanical equiptment, especially that of the high-tech variety. I think that I at times emit an aura of machine-killing chaos that causes pistons to seize and wires to smoke and circuits to sizzle. I'm completely useless when it comes to assembling and building things. If I take something apart, it stays apart. As a kid, I had innumerable toys and devices that were deconstructed out of a mild mechanical curiousity, only to stay that way forever.

I = technical tardo.

I've known this for a long time and proved it to myself this morning, during the putting-together of my computer. I took out all of the cords from my box and inserted them in the correct ports and power strip - all, it seems, except for the main power cord. I somehow managed to put this cord into the power strip first, rather than the other way around, so when I went to plug it into my tower -

ZZZZPOP! KKrrrtchSSSZZzzzz...

A bright flash, followed the the distinct smell of melting circuitry. And despite repeated attempts, including running to my work office to swap out power cords, the computer would not turn on.

In fairness, my Down Syndrome ass thought that the power strip was turned off, which was actually the exact opposite of the truth, confirming my electronic mongaloidality. I can only assume that when I put the penis prongs into the cord vag, a massive power surge ensued, frying my system like Saruman zapping Gandolf in that great scene in his tower from the movie.

I can't even get power to my monitor. I've probably killed it as well.

Of course the internet dude came ten minutes later, chomping at the bit to get me on the grid, but I had to turn him away after explaining to him what happened, employing both broken Korean and pantomime.

He got the gig. His only advice was for me to call him once I get a new computer. I was hoping that he would shake his head and laugh, flip a switch and resurrect the machine. Instead he left me his card and hit the street. So much for holding out hope.

Now I have to wait at least a couple more days before being granted the internets at my new pad - an eternity really - since I'm dying to work on some writing projects during this period of sobriety (which has got me buzzin', I'm tellin' ya). I guess I could always return to the notebook and pen, like the good 'ol days when I was a raggedy student penning wannabe-Raskalnikovian short stories and playlets in my tattered spirals.

Part of me is hoping that when I return home after my last class that the system will miraculously restart, having just needed a few hours to "rest and recover."

Am I as fucked as I think I am?

I have decided where I want to go during the summer break this year. I'd like to travel overland across China, starting in Shanghai, and make it all the way into Kyrgyzstan (if I survive the pollution), where I would do a mountain backpacking trek.

I've just done a little research, and it appears that it is impossible to cross from China into Kyrgyzstan by road. So I would either have to fly, or go through a part of Kazakstan, which could be interesting.

I'm just in the beginning stages of planning the trip. I have no idea what it would cost or if I can even pull it off in the time allotted, but from all reports Kyrgyzstan is gorgeous, relatively unspoiled, as well as unvisited.

Hell, I may even get kidnapped by some bearded mountain people.