I’m home from band camp.
While I was away in the wilderness whining about the overabundance of nature (but secretly having a grand old time), my computer died. It died to the point that a certified Apple dealership declared the motherboard (whatever that is) dead and gone. It was a sad, sad time.
So today, after a day spent listened to a looooong concert and then driving the six hours home, I just rolled back into town. (I’m tired and covered in bug bites, if you must know.) For some reason, despite all logic and reason, I decide that I should just check to make sure my computer didn’t magically come back to life during the trip home.
Guess what? It did! My computer came back to life! Upon arrival in Buffalo, my previously unresponsive computer was all, “Oh. Hello there, Kate.” I guess it was just mostly dead.
Coming back to Buffalo after a trip away feels like coming home. That may seem obvious to a lot of you, but frankly, it took me a long time to feel this way about Buffalo. Over the last year and a half I’ve enjoyed reveling in that happy feeling of “Yay! I’m hoooooome” after being away.
I guess my computer feels the same way. Me and my retarded computer….we’re Buffalonians. Out in the wild we get testy.
(Hey, doesn’t NHL free agency start, like, thirty seconds from now? What’s going on with that, anyway? Is Marion Hossa a Sabre yet? Heh. I’ll try to write about hockey again soon. Sorry about all this band camp and computer talk.)