iConundrum

Yesterday I bought a MacBook. I needed a new laptop, have for some time. The laptop I have been using is a hand-me-down, generous on the part of the giver, but that hasn't made me and the machine BFFs. It likes to listen to honkytonk and randomly refuse to allow me access to my files. It is a morning person and has a bowl haircut. We have politely shared space and several hundred thousand words over the last year or so, but it was clearly time to part ways.

Except, I have no idea what to do with the MacBook. Some history: in grade school, when computers were just worming their way into the general public, I worked on an Apple Macintosh.

We did not use it for schoolwork, or to skim wikipedia in the name of "research". No, they taught us Basic programming. We programmed elementary games, and something related to creating graphs. That was the last time I worked on a Mac, back when it was still using its full name. And now I have this sleek, colorful, beauty that literally sings when I turn it on:

So tell me, MacMinds, what are your favorite parts of the MacBook, the things it does so well that PCs can't even hope to match? And don't tell me about the no viruses or out-of-the-box badda-bing capabilities. I already bought the thing. No need to sell me twice. :)

Tell me about the programs, the computing equivalent of the dive bar with the killer steak burritos and $2 cocktails made with top shelf booze. Help me to fall in love with this aluminum-encased feat of engineering.

It Came From the...Fridge

A spot of dark red something stained the bottom shelf on the refrigerator door, like a sticky birthmark. She looked at it for a moment, and then shrugged and shut the door, leaving it for another time.

In the cold, it bided its time. A half-blood child of darkness and ketchup (not catsup, though, which doesn’t sound like it's spelled), it grew. It attached scouts, small pieces of its own abandoned self, to the bottom of milk jugs and liquid D vitamins (available at Costco). One day, when the light shined again, it would strike. Until then, it waited.

She set the cooled casserole on the shelf above the crisper, pleased that it had come out so well. Out of the corner of her eye, she noted the red stain. Had it grown? It seemed…fuller than before. At once darker and more vivid. She leaned down, reaching her slim hand toward it. Reaching…

It was time, it thought malevolently. Time to strike. Too late, it saw the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser in her hand...

So, I cleaned the refrigerator today. It was disgusting, full of expired condiments, and multiple open jars of the same, damn kind of pickle. At one point, I swear something growled at me and possible raised its little, three-fingered dukes into a fight stance. I considered calling the EPA, or maybe FEMA, but in the end relied on good old, American ingenuity for creating household weapons of destruction and Cloroxed it. Score one for the good guys.

So, this is a reminder: add cleaning out the refrigerator to your spring cleaning list.