they named her Apple

They being, of course, Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin. I mean, I like apples and all, but I don't think I'm that dedicated to any particular fruit.

But whatever, I'll let them name their child what they want. I don't have to put up with it for the rest of my life.

So let's merge to bigger and better topics and take a minute to talk about my computer. 

Now, I am not usually one to make abnormal attachments to inanimate objects. But if you tried to separate me from my macbook I might spend the time of separation in a half-life coma type thing.  In fact, I know the previous statement to be true. Just last semester my macbook went through a brief stage of betrayal when it refused to charge. I had no choice but to turn it over to the hands of the BYU computer-fix-it-men and pray for the best. 

During that dark period I found myself using my dear roommate's computer. While it was very kind and benevolent of her to let me borrow her PC, it was  just that: A PC. The keys were spaced differently, the track pad was no where near as brilliant as mine, and the utter blackness of the whole thing was nothing short of depressing. I missed the beautiful aluminum of my beloved macbook. 

I found myself in a state of desperation. Daily my fingers found their way to the buttons on my phone, calling the bookstore to ask about the progress. Each time I passed someone using their own macbook I couldn't help but stop, stare, covet, and resist the urge to cry out in desperate jealousy. So close, yet so far from my own macbook, my own version of perfection.

Now, let's talk about this. I am fully aware that this, in no way, is a healthy relationship. I may even compare it to that of Bella and a one Mr. Cullen. In other words, the relationship of a crack addict and their drug. Abusive, over-protective, controlling and let's just thrown in creepy. 

But I can't help it, my macbook is my life, my one true love, the only one who truly understands me.

Am I going too far? I can see how you could argue that point, but I beg to differ. This computer has seen me through it all. It holds the pictures meant only for the eyes of those who were there to witness the original moments. It contains my writings: my journals, my thought, my stories. It has been personalized to a point where it might as well merge into my body so we may become one.

As I said, I am fully aware of the melodrama behind these words. I, myself, was skeptical, even concerned, by the relationship. Until I noticed my clock. My beautiful macbook clock. Can you change the time on your computer? Yes. You can set it manually. I, however, have never done such a thing. Believe me, I remember the moments that have passed between my computer and myself and I know that was not one of them.

How, then, did it get set six minutes ahead? The solution I have conceived in my mind is this: my macbook actually knows me so well that it realizes I need that extra six minutes. It knows that I am the person who always runs just a few minutes late. Annoying, selfish, inconsiderate, I know. I've heard it all.  And, apparently, so has my computer. Which is why it took the liberty to set itself ahead, insuring that I am always on time.

So, all you PC lovers, stop hating. And mac lovers, more power to you. But I maintain that my macbook is still more perfect and amazing than your macbook.

That is all.