I was going to write about my busy days at work this week, but I've got computer troubles on my mind. On Monday, I had to re-install Windows on my work laptop, so I lost all of the applications but none of the data I had there. The laptop is working again but it's not quite the same yet as it was. In the process I did get a replacement T41, so at least the hardware I'm using is new, if not state-of-the-art. Then today, the hardware group at work took away my office desktop PC and this evening replaced it with a Windows XP test system for our BIG project. Tomorrow morning I'll have a brand-new system on my desk that I won't be able to do much with since I won't have admin rights. But that's why I have the laptop.
Here's the big problem, and the reason I'm writing this entry on Liz's laptop instead of my desktop PC. Tonight, my desktop came down with some sort of evil virus, Trojan horse, or other vile ailment that forced me to reinstall Windows to get rid of it. System Restore didn't run. A repair installation of Windows crapped out. At least I was able to save a few files out of My Documents, like my Grand Theft Auto save games (so I shouldn't have to play the entire game again). I have recent backups of my digital photos, and my music collection lives on my iRiver player primarily, with the PC as backup. So in the end, all I've lost is some junk I've been carrying around on my various PCs for about seven years, most of which I haven't looked at in at least four or five years. I guess that's why when it came time to reformat the hard disk, I wasn't that upset. It's a cleansing feeling to get rid of all that old data. Tomorrow morning I'll start putting some things back on it, and I'll continue that work tomorrow night and over the weekend. By Monday, it should be back to something resembling normal, albeit with much more free disk space than there was before.
Earlier tonight, Liz and I went to the San Gennaro festival in Little Italy. We had dinner at one of the many fine restaurants there, and then we enjoyed dessert from one of the vending stalls. We had a funnel cake and something else that I didn't think existed. In fact, it's something of a food abomination. Eating it made me feel so guilty that I thought I needed to go to confession. I present: fried Oreos. Six cookies, dipped in funnel cake batter, deep-fried, then tossed in a paper bag with powdered sugar. Such a treat is not normal, and upsets the fabric of space-time. But Einstein himself would have been powerless before the mighty fried Oreo. My God, they were delicious. The cookie softens in the fryer, so the entire treat is a soft, sweet taste that man was not meant to experience. This is a concoction from the devil himself. In fact, it occurs to me now that my home computer troubles are directly related to my excessive consumption of fried Oreos (I had five, Liz had one). I committed a sin against cuisine, and now I suffer the consequences. Woe is me! Oy vey! I repent! I won't do it again! Nevermore!
(At least not until next year's festival.)