10:33 p.m. - 2003-10-16
Learning Him
I don’t really know what I want to say. All I know is I need to learn this keyboard, this screen, this computer. I need to figure out the pressure the keys need, test out the strength of the space bar, work out the distance my fingers have to travel to find their keys. It’s harder than I expected and not something I’m familiar with doing. The little quirks of this computer need to be old hat for me by the end of this month if I’m going to accomplish what I want to accomplish in November. This laptop is going to become my third arm, my extra leg. It will be with me everywhere I go, plugged in when it can be and running off its battery when it can’t. It will be a strange freedom at first, not having to immediately scan a room for its plug to be able to use my dad’s ancient laptop. I can take this computer with me wherever I want to go, rather than having to ask permission every time I leave the house with the heavy bag hanging off my arm. It’s mine, all mine, and now all I have to do is learn him.
It’s kind of like your first time with a new lover. While, in theory, the parts are all the same and the basic goal remains unchanged, the little things are a mystery that has to be slowly unraveled. While the last man you were with might have loved it when you kissed him behind the knee, this one might hate it. While it might have been impossible to get the last guy to finish the job, this one might get there without any effort at all. There’s no way to know except by practicing. But the great thing is? Practicing is just so much fun. You laugh with each other as you discover those funny little quirks, blush a little when the right buttons get pressed, and just delight yourself in the discovery of another person. It’s an intimate relationship that few others will experience. Nobody else knows the exact way to kiss his neck so that he squirms. Nobody else kisses you quite like that. The combination of the two of you is entirely unique.
Already, I am enamoured with this little silver box. I carry him around with me, getting accustomed to the feel of his bag on my back, learning to put my purse over my shoulder before I swing the computer over top, getting used to keeping one hand protectively on his handle as I walk across campus with him. Everything about him is new and exciting and unexpected – from watching DVDs in bed to pulling him out of his case in the middle of a field. The urge to write overwhelms me now, now that I can write anywhere and everywhere. I know how easy it is to switch him on and pull up the screen, and it’s hard to remember sometimes that I should be doing other things, shouldn’t let this one aspect of my life take over simply because the option is there.
He has a name now. Giles. It’s short, and simple, and fits so perfectly I’m starting to be convinced that he actually told me it himself. A tribute to the character, of course, on my beloved Buffy, who hated computers, thus amusing me to have named one after him. Besides, it seems only fitting to give it a Buffy name when the first thing I did with him was watch Buffy in bed. (That sounded dirty. It shouldn’t!) He has a little round raised logo on top, and the other day, I caught myself cleaning it off in exactly the same way Giles cleans his glasses. It might be rather scary internet girl of me to name my computer after a character on a show like Buffy, especially a character who just happens to be incredibly sexy. (I’m a sucker for distinguished older British guys who can also kick ass, ok? See also Picard, Jean-Luc.) But hey, maybe that’s fitting. Maybe I am just a little bit of a scary internet girl. Who cares? Not me. My computer has a great name, a tribute to a character I loved, and that’s all that matters.
He’s becoming more familiar as the words form, the missing letters fewer and the speed slowly picking up to its familiar pace. My wrists sit comfortably and hitting the touch pad switch with my thumb becoming more natural. I only worry now that Giles will spoil me. After forming such an attachment to my first computer, how will I ever be able to own another one? Not a problem for the present, I don’t think, and not something I will worry too much about until I’m in a position to be able to afford another one. Until then, I will merely bask in the glow of Giles’s friendly screen and continue to learn him. I have no doubt it won’t be long until his keys feel more familiar than my own hands. Because I know he’s a part of me now, an extra addition. One that takes me one step further towards being a real writer.
I wrote this yesterday, sitting in my office with my keyboard pushed back and Giles perched in front. I haven't got my computer set up to work with the university network yet, so I had to wait to upload this. And now, I'm at the Party House, stretched out on the recliner in the corner, with the extra ethernet cord plugged in to the router. I'm incredibly comfortable and I'm surrounded by my friends. This is possibly the perfect place to write, except for the ridiculous number of distractions. Still, it's pretty awesome to have all of this at my fingertips. Life is good.
