The Thirty-Minute Tyrannical Reign of Captain Obvious

On Saturday my internet wasn’t working. This isn’t unusual– generally the internet is busier on the weekend since obviously people have nothing better to do (or, like yours truly, they have plenty else to do– they’re just putting off).  Anyway, in the past I used to roll my eyes at the “Internet cannot display this webpage” notice and take it as a divine sign that I really should be doing something more productive with my free time. However, this weekend I really did not have anything better to do because it was late and I really did not feel like doing anything meaningful, so I started fiddling. I scrutinized the screen for any button that could shoot my troubles and eventually found a button that said “Identify the problem”.

And so began the reign of Captain Obvious…

After an agonizingly long time of watching a little green “loading” bar bounce back and forth across my screen, a box popped up with the following message: “Your computer cannot connect to the internet”

Yes, I thought. Could you tell me why, though? If it’s not too much trouble.

Perhaps computers are built to make some of us feel stupid… You know, just in case someone (say, Dory, for instance. I mean, if she can remember “P. Sherman 42 Wallaby Way, Sydney”, there is no reason why she can’t use a laptop?) sommer forgot why their computer was busy doing what it was doing and needed to be reminded.

After contemplating the meaning of life for a good 60 seconds, I clicked the “Find Solution” button. Then I practically exploded because the next message to grace the screen was, “No solutions found. Would you like to search online for a solution?”

I started insulting the machine: calling it names and swearing creatively (because I don’t swear swear– I just don’t. Instead, I say stuff like, “Malapropism”– ok, no, I don’t say that but for some reason it was the first thing that popped into my head. Moving on…) Let’s be serious: If I could search online for a solution, I wouldn’t need to search online for a solution.

And then my mother has the audacity to say that computers are smarter than people. Pah!

In theory, sure. In practice? Malapropism No!

Eventually my internet returned of its own accord. In the mean time, I repeatedly beat my high score on Freecell and played my version of the alphabet song on my guitar. It was probably the most unproductive hour of my life and, knowing me, that’s saying a lot.

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“The problem at this point is that there is a problem.” – Captain Obvious

No Need to Read Between the Lines in This Post- It’s Drowning in Parenthesis

I’m not sure if y’all have noticed, but StarrCrossed now has a new look! Hope you like it… I sure do– that’s kind of why I chose it.

Does anyone else think 2012 is going a little too quickly? I do. It’s July for crying out loud! My 16th birthday is in less than two weeks. I’m halfway through high school. They’ve made an Ice Age 4! FOUR! I remember when the first one came out all the way back in 2002. Ok. I don’t actually remember but it was 10 years ago, cut me some slack.

Speaking of time getting away with me, I have had quite a half term this past week. My family went to a game lodge, a clock shop (Best. Place. On. Earth!), I did the doctor run (progress on the whole “Anosmia” thing!) and my cousin made up a convoluted (yet totally awesome and totally possible) story about the 1 dollar bill I use as a book mark. As soon as I perfect and “hilarify” those stories (with insane metaphors and sarcastic comments), I’ll share them with you.

In the mean time, let me tell you about The Worst Idea Ever. Seriously, this idea was worse than The Treaty of Versailles and that (in a long-winded way) caused World War Two.

Here’s the whole story:

It all started with the end of exams. (In  truth, the idea was born at the start of exams but the execution of the idea happened at the end so that’s where I’m going. Humour me.) A friend of mine came up with an exciting (ie: idiotic) idea for us to celebrate the end of the 3-week exam period by pulling a Grand All-Nighter (wait for it…) on a school night. We were all excited (“all” being something like twelve of us). Red Bull was bought. Movies were selected. Somewhere in the world a kid said he didn’t believe in fairies and Tinkerbell died. (Life went on as normal, you see?)

And then the teacher said, “Pens down.” for the last exam and the long-awaited night arrived.

It started off rather well, actually: we ordered delicious pizza and wrestled over the TV remote for a while before watching snippets of Jessie, Modern Family and CSI one after the other. The first can of energy drink was popped open at around ten thirty. By then, we were all sprawled across three mattresses that had been laid down on the floor, arguing over which movie should keep us entertained for the following two hours. Eventually, we picked Bridesmaids. We laughed and stayed awake so it fulfilled its purpose. I’m amazed at how I managed to stay awake afterwards; I didn’t drink any sort of energy drink that night. (I should have but my logic was that if I drank something that would give me a buzz for three hours, after that high I’d plummet into some sort of mindless zombie state and I didn’t want that to happen. So instead, I drank tea.)

At around one-thirty I stumbled into the kitchen for my third cup of happiness (Tea, in case you were wondering). On my way there, I got distracted by six friends using their time to do a Flash Mob music video of One Direction’s What Makes You Beautiful. They choreographed. I filmed. I also became a little drunk with power (and exhaustion) after being given the title of “Director”. I still don’t know what I told my friends that night, I was so tired. But they were just as tired so if I had said something about recreating the fight scene from Twilight but this time giving Bella a jet pack and throwing in a few bright purple aardvarks, they probably would have nodded in agreement and started Googling where seven teenagers could buy aardvarks at two in the morning.

Finally, at four o’clock, I gave up. Or at least I tried to. Because my friends — now mindless zombies themselves after their energy-drink high– kept throwing pillows at me to keep me awake and constantly burst into (amazingly unconvincing) chants of “We’re almost there”, I never managed to fall asleep. However, at one point I must have entered some sort of dream state because the strangest thought popped into my head (the kind of thought that only pops into one’s head during Hypnagogia): An image of Jude Law as Dr Watson stating he wanted to “Dissect on his bicycle”. I kid you not. If anyone can tell me its profound hidden meaning, please do. It still haunts me to this day. What the hell were “dissect” and “bicycle” doing in the same sentence? Plus Jude Law?! It’s like the start of a bad joke… “An actor and two unrelatable words walked into a bar and the bartender said, ‘No way. I don’t’ get paid enough for this; I quit.'”

Crazy Stupid Love played on TV until around five thirty which is when we had to “get up”. I had my fourth and fifth cup of tea and then got dressed correctly (miraculously!). On the way to school, twelve of us (plus my friend’s dad who drove us there) fit into one car. After successfully pulling my first “All-Nighter”, I succumbed to my very persuasive heavy eyelids and “rested my eyes” (ie: became comatose) for the entire twenty-minute ride.

We certainly made an entrance when we arrived at the Grade 10 locker area. Somehow, everyone knew about our defiance of normality and welcomed us with encouraging, empathetic hugs (while deep down they all laughed at our sheer stupidity).

Considering all I was running on was five cups of tea, I’d say I managed the day rather well… until it was time for chapel. We had Eucharist which meant lots of silence between lots of singing between lots of praying (and not much to keep us awake). Although I sat away from the others (because I’m in the choir), every time the Chaplain said “Let us pray,” I could still hear all their relieved sighs as we bowed our heads and closed our eyes for thirteen seconds each time while the Chaplain read a heartfelt prayer. (I don’t think any of us could ever look more religious than we did that day). The real problem came when the congregation had to pray as well. We have these little blue books from which we read various passages of worship, but I was so tired the letters started doing a tango on my page and in my attempt to read them, I made up the most ridiculous versions of “Our Father” (and other assorted prayers) you have ever heard. Eventually I had to stop talking because I was sure I was offending someone with my unorthodox remixes.

Afterwards, two of us fell asleep on the brick floor of our school’s science block. While it may have been the most uncomfortable experience of my life, it was certainly essential to my survival. (Best 40 winks ever!) Throughout the rest of the day, I found subtle opportunities (as subtle as possible) to catnap. My family spent five hours in the car driving to the bush lodge I mentioned earlier so a good portion of that trip was spent unconscious on my behalf. At dinner that evening (in a public restaurant, in the presence of not one but two attractive young men) I almost collapsed face-first into my– was it a salad? I don’t even remember. After which, I declared, “I never want to feel like this again. Never. Ever. I’m in hell. Actually, I’d be able to sleep in hell ’cause I’d be dead so I’m in the place too-bad-for-hell people get spat into.”

I still feel that way to this day. Never again. You hear that, Planter-Of-Terrible-Ideas-In-The-Minds-of-Teenagers Guy? I’ve suffered enough. Leave me and my mind alone!

In order to fulfill my desire, I should probably stop babbling now and get some rest. Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.

Night, all!

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“If I have eight apples and you have twelve porcupines, how many leafblowers can we fit on the roof? Pumpernickel, because camels don’t own Ferraris.” – My Own Insanity