Wednesday, February 23, 2011

DeKalb Street: 1, Tourists: 0

So as a belated birthday celebration I ventured to New York with several of my dearest friends. There were visions of frolicking in Central Park, finding cool spots to hang out, amazing shopping and so on. All those things you dream of when heading up to NYC.  What they fail to mention in the tourist information is the subway "scheduled" changes.

It was essentially the beginning of a horror movie. Honestly, I'm still surprised we made it out alive.  I feel like as three white girls in the big city, we would have been the first to go.  So here is what happened.


It's Saturday. Around 6 in the morning Jess and I wake up to an alarm going off.  Well, Jess wakes up to the alarm, which turns out to be an alarm clock, and I'm desperately shaken awake to figure out what it is (I don't remember this). But the alarm situation is handled for about five minutes before we both wake up to the second one. Once it's shut off for good, sleep is attempted once more.  We need our energy for our day ful of adventures! Well, before we get back to sleep there is SCREAMING! It sounds like a woman screaming, shrieking maybe, at the top of her lungs. In my sleepy stupor I vaguely remember looks of horror. The first scream was quickly proceeded by howling. Just the wind.

I would just like to say, I am fairly certain we spend the majority of that day in a small tornado. It was the windiest day I have ever experienced in my life. But we bravely ventured out into weather that got Dorothy trapped in Oz. We made it to our first destination. Century 21. Discount designer department store. I only mention this, since it has little relevance in the overall story, because of the fantastic Dolce and Gabbana dresses we found (please note my sarcasm).  Each of these dresses was worth near or over $1,000 at a heavily discounted price.




 



Now I know everyone is probably very shocked that we did not purchase these fine garments.  Unfortunately we had no circuses to attend in the near future, never mind the fact we're all essentially broke. So, striking out shopping we continue on. To the Park!

There was no frolicking in Central Park or joyously wandering the streets. Instead we walked with our heads down, trying to keep our ears warm as we shoved past people to find shelter in the nearest coffee house (I bought water), toy store, clothing store (well, we had to shop a little) or bar.



Now, the twins and Steph were meeting us that evening and were scheduled to arrive back in Jersey City (where we were staying) at 5:30.  Being responsible (and cold) at 4 o'clock we headed to the subway, prepared to take the R train back to the stop we got it at this morning, so we could hop on the Path train and be home without much problem. Well, except for killer winds.

So, we get on the R train and we're cruising along. I have a brief panic attack that we took the train the wrong direction because a sign keeps flashing 95th street, but we soon start seeing familiar stops.  We make it to Canal Street, which is a mere two stops before our destination. The train starts up again and we're off. Suddenly we're above ground and there is a moment where Jess, Allison and I look at each other. Did we travel above ground earlier in the day? No. No we did not. We're being taken hostage by the subway! There was discussion about how if this was it we weren't going down without a fight, and we were surveying the other passengers to see if it came to it, who would have to be killed and eaten first. Finally though, the train stopped. It had taken us to some unknown, horrible place. DeKalb Street. Essentially, we were doomed.

The man across from us was trying to help us, he'd been pointing out earlier stops. He lived in New York. He also didn't really speak much English. Well, when the train finally stops, he tells us we have to get off and get another train back. We listen, so does the rest of the train.  We all file out and shuffle across the platform to the otherside, assuming another R train will come and pick us up to take us back. I'm sure you're guessing by now, it never came.

This is where the horror movie begins. Really, it had all the necessary components: an underground subway station, naive American girls, foreigners, frat boys and some southerns. Oh, and trains. It was dark and cold and it appeared that there was no way out. The escalator took you to a barred entrance and a brick wall. There was no 24 hour attendant like the sign said. We had no signals on our cell phones. No 3G! It was only a matter of time before impending doom was upon us. And after 30 minutes of waiting, when our new foreign friend finally gave up and abandoned ship, we knew all hope was lost.

And then! A bright light at the end of the tunnel! Okay, just kidding. Because that would have meant the train was coming. Instead, we desperately followed our foreign friend and miracle, upon miracles he led us to THE OTHER SIDE! There was a whole other platform! One that had actual trains coming to it! Or so we hoped. And he didn't lead us wrong. Well, not fully. We hopped on a Q train and headed all the way back to where we started only to head all the way back. Our friend finally left us after telling us which stop to get off at with a brief "I go now." We did make it back to Jersey City, only to face the terrible wind, nearly be hit in the head by a box and street sign. Really, we are lucky to be alive. Damn you, DeKalb Street.

Since this one event has taken up enough words for the entire weekend, I will stop here, and just say the rest of the trip went rather well.  There was delicious pizza (John's Pizza on 44th Street, I highly recommend it!), and there was fun adventures in the East Village drinking with Chris as our fearless tour guide.


My advice to anyone visiting NYC soon, beware the unannounced subway track changes. They'll getcha.

Oh, and by the way, Barbie. Ken wants you back.  

Monday, February 7, 2011

Computer Problem?

When you go off to college these days you usually buy a laptop. I happened to purchase mine through the University of Maryland (it meant a discount, or so they told us, I have a sneaking suspicious it was just another way to gauge as much money from students as possible). But what this means is: 4 years of college, 4 years of warranty. 

Those 4 years of warranty ended....5 months ago. The blow was tragic. My poor lappy was unprotected! Which means the hole I punctured in the corner? Still there.  The crack on the back of the screen? Still cracked. Blasphemy, I know. I've been tempted multiple times to call forth the power of duct tape, but I have resisted. 

Now, external issues are one thing.  Sure, your laptop might be embarrassed to play with the other, newer, less cracked laptops, but at least they are still running strong!  Until you click on the wrong link in google images (thanks Jensen Ackles) and a virus installs itself so fast you don't even have time to blink. First, of course, comes the sting of curses, the desire to plunge from a roof because surely that is easier than removing a virus from Windows, and then the inevitable begging as you download malwarebytes as fast as your fingers can get you to their website.

Well, despite the malwarebytes detection, the guidance from knowledgeable friends, several sacrifices to the gods and perhaps a few tears, my laptop still had the virus.  Windows was corrupted! (Shocker, I know).  So my solution?  Restore Windows to it's original settings! Sounds easy right?  Because anything involving Windows and a Dell....well, you get the idea.

Now I failed to mention this is my SECOND laptop under my warranty, because the first one sucked so much the bottom got so hot is internally fried my wireless and they deemed it a "safety hazard" and sent me a new one. Only by that point they'd stopped making my model so they sent me the updated one.  No complaints here! Well, except that I didn't realize there was now two reinstall disks! Makes things a bit problematic. Things didn't go so well.

Now when dealing with Dell I have come to the conclusion that you have two options.
Option 1: Fix the Problem Yourself
or...
Option 2: Throw the Laptop Out the Window

Stupidly I went with Option 3: Dell tech Support.

Chances I was talking to a robot? High.
Me: "Please, sir, can you tell me how to locate the d630.cab files?"
Tech Support: "Are you saying you restored your computer?"
Me: "Yes. Where is the file?"
Tech Support: "Now, did you use a resinstall disk?"
Me: "Yes, I started from the CD and it took me here and won't work. It is asking for the file."
Tech Support: "So you are reinstalling Windows?"
Me: "THE FILES MAN, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WHERE ARE THE FILES?"
...Silence.
Me: "I will try it again on my own."

So, I find the right disk and try again. I get half way through and it stops! What do I do? I ignore my own wonderful advice and again pick Option 3.  Back to dell tech support!

Me: "I used the disk and it stops half way through the reinstall process."
Tech Support: "Can you follow these instructions: *gives link*."
Me: *reads* "Yes I did all of that and now when I restart it takes me to the set-up right away."
Tech Support: "I suggest you follow the instructions on reinstalling Windows. You need to go to this screen."
Me: "IT WON'T TAKE ME TO THAT SCREEN YOU @*#&#@%@."
Tech Support: "When you get to that screen, hit enter. It should take you there first."

At this point I was sobbing in a corner, rocking back and forth asking "Why me?"
In the end, he told me to follow the directions and he was leaving the chat to assist other customers.  I felt like Dorothy stranded on a broken Yellow Brick Road.  But there is no Emerald City!  Nooooooo!

Though, after leaving Dell Tech Support I managed to try Option 1 for the third time. SUCCESS! Nevermind that my laptop is now a barren wasteland. 

The moral of this story?  I want to punch Dell Tech Support in the teeth. But other than that, I thought it made a fairly charming story for my first ever blog post.