Saturday, I received confirmation that my new shiny laptop had shipped, estimated delivery for the end of this week. I knew the package would require a signature and that I would be unable to sign for it—that whole "work" thing. I tried to have the shipping address changed to Nick's work address, but Dell told me that to process the change, they would need to cancel the order completely and start from the top, restarting the waiting process. Well, at that point I had already been waiting a week and I was anxious and said, "Never mind. Forget I called." When I checked tracking yesterday, I saw that it was out for delivery, and immediately called DHL, telling them to put a hold on the package and I would pick it up from their center on my way home from work. When I called at 4:00, they confirmed that the package the truck was on had returned, and I practically skipped through the work parking lot to get to my car.

I'm still in the process of making it mine, but LOVE the high gloss screen and am pretty sure that I HATE Windows Vista (the boogers at Dell wouldn't let me choose an outdated OS to load!) who insists on asking my permission for every little thing. You just clicked to open Firefox. I need your permission to open Firefox. May I open Firefox? Huh? Please? Can I?—Oh, I can? Are you sure? But that isn't even the half of it...the stupid OS wasn't sure of the validity of a MICROSOFT APPLICATION. I think I even shouted aloud on a sarcastic bark of laughter, "IT'S MSCONFIG!" Just when I thought Microsoft couldn't release an operating system worse than ME.

But it's powerful machine, I can't complain—being a graphics artist as long as I was, I'm power hungry with my computers and it's a hot lil thing. I haven't determined gender yet, or what name suits it best (Nick is somewhere rubbing his face and repeating my refrain, Who am I DATING?), but the bonding will come...with this ward, I know it will. As Sophie sprinted down the stairs yesterday and hunched down to look at us before peeling away again, I shouted with Nick at my side (we were both looking adoringly at the laptop), "See, this is what happens! When someone brings you into their home, YOU LET THEM LOVE YOU."

Really, Sophie's got us played out. She has loads of toys, she gets treats and canned food, and she knows she doesn't have to try too hard to win us over because we've now spent enough money on her that it is inconceivable that we'd turn her over to the wolves. A stark constrast from the kitten who snuggled with us a few weeks ago, I like to think of these as her teenage years...nail spitting little snot...whom I love.