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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write.
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
 
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Off the Cuff / My Other Journal #808780 added March 3, 2014 at 12:19am
Restrictions: None
Excited! To say the least...
I'm So Excited! Is a silly movie, a comedy, whose original title is Los Amantes Pasajeros
I don't want to give away the plot, but just a hint of it, here.
When it appears as though the end is in sight, the pilots, flight crew, and passengers of a plane heading to Mexico City try to forget the anguish of the moment.
If you watch the trailer  , you'll see a woman in agony while sitting in her seat inside the airplane. That woman could be me on February 11.
On February 11, I felt the same agony, only much stronger, when I sat in front of my less-than-a-year-old laptop and tried to wake it up. The night before, the thing was working perfectly. So, I clicked on the sleep button and went to bed. Next morning, my baby did not wake up. No matter how many times I rebooted it, just the HP logo kept coming up, but nothing else.
First, I felt a sheen of sweat on my forehead, then all my muscles started quivering. Heat flushed through my body and my heart sped up as if it were traveling in light years.
I picked the laptop and rushed to my hubby's study where his desktop is, with the idea of crying wolf to the HP Support. Luckily, in chat, a techie named Ajit was patient and knowledgeable enough to help me. Under his guidance, I ran a test, in which the hard disk passed. But then, even Ajit's directions could not help my stubborn laptop to wake up.
Thus, a factory voyage to Texas was arranged with FedEx. At that time, there was a snowstorm and most of the airports worked under duress or didn't work at all, while I was suffering at the same grief level of death or Armageddon and worrying my entire family about my sanity. Finally, four long days later, the laptop was in FedEx's hands.
While my laptop, with the name Joy's Toy, laid in the HP hospital, I rediscovered notebooks, I mean real-life ones with sheets of paper spiral bound, and began writing inside them the notes on small pieces of paper that lay haphazardly around my desk. This is where my laptop adventure began resembling the above-mentioned movie. After all, if you can't beat'em, join'em, and make the best of a disaster.
Then, about five days ago, the laptop arrived, with the note, "Sorry, we couldn't transfer your data." But the laptop now worked in its re-infantilized state. It was like someone waking up with amnesia. Even its name was HP-PC. Luckily, I had most of everything backed up in flash drives and saved in Dropbox.
It is true, I had to reprogram it and download again my programs, even if this took three days. But as of two days ago, it was touchdown –like the airplane- with everything I need in the laptop, making me truly delighted about having survived the ordeal with little to nothing loss.
Now with a wide grin, I am like a bouncing ball, in spite of knowing I act hyper, immature, and foolish. But I feel a lightness in my chest, and the adrenaline rush of having regained Joy's Toy, albeit with the alien HP-PC name.
Yes, I am very excited to have my baby back.
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