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A few months ago, I shocked my friends 
Tina & K with the revelation that I was still using a computer K had put together for me before they were parents. And married. And homeowners. They broke it to me--oh, so gently--that I really needed to look into a new computer, because I was playing Solitaire on borrowed time. All hard drives go to heaven eventually.
But I am a creature of habit. My computer is a comfortable electronic burrow, and I know and love all its nooks and crannies. Sure, it could run a little faster, or quieter, but I could start up the programs I needed with the monitor off. A new computer would mean a new operating system to figure out, a whole new mokie-cave to customize and become accustomed to.
And what's wrong with Windows 2000 anyway? Besides that nobody supports it anymore. Or uses it. What? Yes, Windows 2000. Don't look at me like that.
So I've done it: after a really good month that left me with a little extra money, I admitted defeat and bought a new computer.
It's sleek. It's shiny. It's silent. It's adorable--so tiny it could fit inside my old tower. Hell, it's smaller than my old monitor. It's almost painfully speedy.
Not so speedy, though, is me trying to get used to Windows 7. It looks and feels as if everything is bubble-wrapped; there are lots of nifty helpful hints and nudges to do things that I'm not interested in at all ("Want to watch videos on Hulu?" No.), and the simple things (so I need to access this flash drive, and reorganize the start menu...) are tucked away out of sight.
I can see why they used a 5-year-old to show how easy it is, but I need the grown-up's guide to it.
Tina & K with the revelation that I was still using a computer K had put together for me before they were parents. And married. And homeowners. They broke it to me--oh, so gently--that I really needed to look into a new computer, because I was playing Solitaire on borrowed time. All hard drives go to heaven eventually.But I am a creature of habit. My computer is a comfortable electronic burrow, and I know and love all its nooks and crannies. Sure, it could run a little faster, or quieter, but I could start up the programs I needed with the monitor off. A new computer would mean a new operating system to figure out, a whole new mokie-cave to customize and become accustomed to.
And what's wrong with Windows 2000 anyway? Besides that nobody supports it anymore. Or uses it. What? Yes, Windows 2000. Don't look at me like that.
So I've done it: after a really good month that left me with a little extra money, I admitted defeat and bought a new computer.
It's sleek. It's shiny. It's silent. It's adorable--so tiny it could fit inside my old tower. Hell, it's smaller than my old monitor. It's almost painfully speedy.
Not so speedy, though, is me trying to get used to Windows 7. It looks and feels as if everything is bubble-wrapped; there are lots of nifty helpful hints and nudges to do things that I'm not interested in at all ("Want to watch videos on Hulu?" No.), and the simple things (so I need to access this flash drive, and reorganize the start menu...) are tucked away out of sight.
I can see why they used a 5-year-old to show how easy it is, but I need the grown-up's guide to it.
