My "New" Computer

Today is a big day.  As a writer, it just doesn't get quite as big as this on a regular basis.  This is monumental.  A big freaking deal.  And the unveiling needs its own paragraph.

Today I am writing on my very own computer.  My own.  My precious.

Now the back story.  When I left my ex-husband 5 1/2 years ago, I left behind his computers, which had been the family computers.  They brought me a lot of emotional pain, as I had discovered that they were the computers with which he would access secret sites, and communicate with other women.  Needing a computer, and a credit rating established in my name, I charged my own laptop--never mind the fact that I was an at-home mom, and that I had no income of my own.  Needless to say, my little expenditure wasn't a financially sound decision...but such is the mindset of many an in-crisis spouse.  It's hard to think clearly when your brain is scrambled up right alongside the rest of your life.

Since my laptop became the family computer, and since I had young kids using it, and since I ended up, in the years to come, away from home more than I was at home, my computer was left at the hands of immaturity and irresponsibility.  In time, the casing would break leaving the monitor and keyboard having only one hinge, and the connective wires holding them together, and I would lose my "5 key."  I would have paintbrush pictures, and YouTube videos saved to it, as well as a whole host of life-threatening viruses--the kids discovered, the hard way, that the quizzes and ads on their favorite sites aren't safe.  My computer nearly flat lined before it finally fell into a coma.  A deep coma.  I took it to two different computer guys who deemed it dead.  I was heartbroken and disappointed, as my computer ended up being yet another casualty in the pit of our crisis.

I am a writer.  The worst thing that can happen to a writer is to lose our ability to write.  It's like Julie Andrews losing her ability to sing.  Or Christopher Reeve losing his ability to fly.  It's frustrating and sad.  Yes, I had paper and a pen, and I did use them.  But we live in a day and age where the computer is to a writer what the ink well was for Louisa May Alcott.  And yes, she had a pin and blood, but it just isn't the same.  We need the tools to do what we do the best, and I'll admit, the fastest we can.

Hugo has a laptop, and I've been very grateful to be able to use it.  It's a Mac.  I've never used a Mac before.  Now that I've had a good year using it, I'd have to say it isn't as bad as I'd heard.  And for all the Mac lovers, I'd have to tell the PC users that seriously, they're both really cool.  For me, at least, I'm not a computer genius--I'm equally just one mouse click above illiterate on both fields.  But that which I now know of each of them, I'm impressed with what they both bring to the table.  And it's cool, for someone who never saw herself as a techie, to at least say I am computer-ambidextrous.  It's really cool.  But now I have my PC back, and I'm happy to be home.  I'm just as confused having to re-learn what I used to know, yes, but within a few days weeks, I'll be good to go.

My PC has something that means more to me than independence.  Word. 

Sorry.  That deserved its own paragraph too.  Having a word processing software isn't important to an artist/musician husband, evidently, so his Mac is void of any form of writing software.  It boggles the mind.  But to be fair, I must admit that my PC doesn't have my own iTunes account.  I've never had an iPod, or an MP3 player.  And that, my friends, would boggle his mind.

So, when and where did I get a new computer?  I didn't.  My near-dead laptop was defibrillated.

My Computer Doctor?  Raudel Acuna.  (That "n" in Acuna is supposed to be a Spanish N.  I don't know how to make either my PC, or Hugo's Mac, speak Spanish.)  Another statement worthy of its own paragraph, and correct spelling.

Raudel is my brother-in-law...Hugo's sister Alicia's husband.  He is The Man, and the computer genius on the Ambriz side of the family.  He offered, offered again, offered yet again, and then offered again still before I took him up on his offer.  To say that I am blown-away is an understatement.  To say that I am grateful is yet another downplay.  I am overwhelmed with what he has done, and for what he has provided for not only me, but for my family.

I am a writer.  It's my passion, and now it's my job.  I need the best tools I can have, so that I can do the best that I can do, in the most efficient and most expedient way.  It's better than an ink well, and it's a heck of a lot better than a pin and sore finger tip.

So off I go, reacquainting myself with my first love, trying not to stumble too badly over myself as I get familiar once again with my PC.  And for starters, I will Google the term "PC," to make sure it's really OK to use it even though I'm talking about my laptop, and not just the computer thingy that sits on a desk.  Isn't that what we used to call them?  I'm just not a computer-brainiac.  I'm just a grateful user.