Dearest friends, family and internet stalkers,

First of all, if you’re still reading this testament to the absurdity of free word association, kudos. Bravo. Clearly you’re either a psychiatrist that’s sprung upon her next new case study (in which case, I’m sorry to have to inform you, you’re not the first to try and crack this nut), a Poland enthusiast who still hasn’t figured out how little I understand about this country, an aspiring Fulbright ("I mean, if she can do it...") or the person who keeps sending me comments I think are intended to be pick-up lines, but sound more like death threats ("Love your picture, would like to eat your lovely green eyes." (I'm banking on the fact that English is his second language)). Either way, I salute you all.

Also, I’d like to be the first to tell you that I am not dead. You may have assumed from my recent hiatus that I died (which would also explain why my Polish internet stalker desires to consume my organs. After all, is it that far a leap from golonka to cannibalism? I think not.) Typically, the sole explanation for someone abandoning a blog is rigor mortis, but I am alive, a fact which I hope leaves more people relieved than disappointed. No, the cause of my absence is much more mired and disturbing than my accidental death. And in some ways more tragic.

My computer broke. There may or may not have been burning hot tea involved, and I may or may not be partially responsible for this calamity. Doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. The point is that my macbook is gone. I write to you now from a used Polish computer, for the third time. (My first two attempts at this post disappeared when a frowning emoticon showed up.) Also, if I sound discordant and nonsensical, it’s because every 5 minutes this piece of crap shuts down, randomly deleting chunks of the document in the process. Looks like my years of therapy and those anger management classes will finally be put to the test.*

Seriously, not having my macbook blows harder than a two dollar whore. My music, calendar, newspaper, television, work, opinions, flattering photos, short stories I thought tens of people would someday read, porn, faux-intellectualism—gone. All gone. My computer was myself, mine own self's better part, Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer heart, My food, my fortune and my sweet hope's aim, My sole earth's heaven and my heaven's claim. I lived through it, and with it buried, a part of myself is also six feet under. Or at least locked in a hardware store closet.

I miss it so much. I can’t go to the grocery store without fondling the succulent apples, eyes brimming with tears. I can’t go to a cafe without leering at the hipster posting on his facebook wall (though I usually can’t help doing that anyway). I can’t go clubbing without trying to drunk message my exe when I get home. It’s a horrible existence.

So that’s my tragedy of the month. And it’s a tragedy for you as well. I had about 5-6 entries saved on my computer that will never gain internet immortality. Like any early death, lost presidency, or STD, we will never truly understand the vast power and influence those entries could have had, had they been shared. It’s a loss for all humanity.

Moral of the story: don’t drink tea. If you’re going to destroy over $1500 in physical material as well as invaluable memories and creativity in a matter of seconds, it might as well be with a coffee. 

This post is dedicated to: 

 Macbook OS 10.4.6 –White 

b. September, 2011 – d. October 2012 

                 My drunk and lonely nights will never be the same