mac users do not install latest update
Feb. 18th, 2008 08:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7I am serious, do not install the latest system update if you have a Mac. I innocently ran a Software Update last night when I finally got home after the Insane Weekend Of Doing Stuff Argh. I wanted to do some writing, I had the itch finally, I thought it might help me clear my head. But I wasn't quite sure where I wanted to start. And my computer was getting really slow and crunky and I figured it needed a restart (it's a laptop, I usually just put it to sleep when I'm not using it, so it's rarely rebooted). So I ran the software update checker and let it tick over for a while, figuring when it was done it'd restart and then I'd know I could start.
I was sitting idly reading, figuring it'd probably be five minutes or so. After a while I looked up-- nearly twenty minutes just to download the updates? Huh. But it was still ticking away, so I went off to play with the cat, mildly annoyed. I was ready to start now, but the computer wasn't. Hmph. Oh well.
I came back after another fifteen minutes or so, and it had restarted, and was at the point in the boot-up where there's a pale blue background, a grey apple logo, and a little spinny wheel thing indicating that it's working. Oh good, won't be long now. I sat down again, massaging my sore legs, and waited.
Ten minutes. I opened my book again.
Fifteen minutes.
Twenty minutes.
Forty-five minutes, and I reached over and hit the power button to re-restart it.
Back to the pale blue screen with the apple logo and the wheel thing. Ten minutes. Fifteen.
Re-restarted again.
Every time it restarts of course it makes that "Boooongggg" noise. Finally Z came out of the other bedroom, where he'd been napping. "What the hell are you doing in here?" he asked.
I gestured helplessly at it. "I've been trying to restart for, like, a long time. An hour? It won't come back up."
"Hold the shift key down," he said.
I re-re-re-restarted, holding the shift key down. After about five minutes, I called into the next room, whence Z had retreated, "Can I let go of the shift key now?"
"Did it boot up?"
"No."
Muttering curses, he came back in and sat down to look at it. "This is going to be a while," he said.
He looked it up. "Oh, great," he said. "Did you install the newest system update?"
"... Yeees? Why?"
"It does this," he said. "You've got to boot into safe mode and then restart again. But it does this to everybody."
"When I boot into safe mode it doesn't come up," I protested.
"It takes a really long time," he said. "Just let it go."
"OK," I said. Booted into safe mode, went to bed.
This morning, it's still sitting there, blue screen, grey apple, little spinny wheel thing.
Yeah.
Fuck.
Meanwhile my iPod is giving me the Sad iPod screen. If I leave it plugged in for half an hour, it restarts itself until it gets past the Sad iPod screen, but it really takes half an hour, and then it periodically needs to stop mid-song and think about what it's doing.
So I'm not in a very good place, technology-wise. I backed up my hard drive a couple of weeks ago but not since the last time I downloaded photos. So I'd probably lose some mp3s I could replace, and some cute photos of Chita I couldn't, if I had to restore the old system. I'd also lose some minor edits to some writing, but I've been so profoundly unproductive, that would be OK.
It's just that I don't know what the warranty is on my computer.
And it seems retarded to lose an entire laptop to a simple system update. But I don't know what else to do; it won't boot in safe mode and there's nothing else I can make it do.
That's what I get for rebooting. I'll just never update or reboot the thing again.
Ug.
In other news, it was a busy weekend-- Saturday after the Workout of Doom I went out for breakfast with some leaguemates, got home around 2:30, took a shower, caught up on Internet communications, and then couldn't resist the temptation anymore and lay down for "just a minute" at around 4:45. I had to get up by 5, to go shopping for something for Z's sister's baby shower. And I needed to buy some new shoes, and I probably had better get another pair of neutral-colored 'fat pants' since I'm such a lardass now my cute new size 14 clothes from the summer pinch at the waistband, and my stupid patterned tights elicit so much negative attention if I wear them to work, and my wardrobe just isn't fashionably boring enough....
I woke at 5:45. I was convinced it was 5:45 am. I was dizzy and exhausted, but I was sure I had to get up for some reason. I lay there for 15 minutes, drifting in and out of sleep, and remembered that I had wanted to go to practice at 8 am on Sunday, but why would I need to get up now to do that?
I nearly rolled over and went back to sleep, but then I realized Z wasn't in the bed, and I could hear him typing in the other room. At 6 am??
Oh!
Ug. I dragged myself out of bed and got dressed, put my shoes on the wrong feet, fixed them, dragged myself around the house, and finally convinced Z he'd better drive. I was so tired.
We got to Babies R Us. It was terrifying. Oh my god.
The less said about that nightmare, the better. It was just terrifying. I couldn't deal. And then they had free giftwrap, but you had to do it yourself-- also scary. Neither Z nor I can wrap a gift to save ourselves. But we did, as best we could. Ghetto Babies R Us patterned wrapping paper, with stupid slogans printed on it, the corners all crooked, most of it just coated in tape because we're awful at this.
We went straight to the e:strip party and I apologize for getting e:James and e:Jim confused. e:Jim is the quiet shy one, e:James is the couch shark. Sorry!!!
I was in bed before midnight, and still couldn't drag my ass out of bed in time for the 8 am practice. Which is just as well; the 10-12 practice was fucking brutal, and I dragged myself out of there basically unable to move my legs. And had to go home, change clothes (no time for a shower. Those poor other ladies), and depart straight for the baby shower. While I was gone Z had not contacted any of his family or made any plans, so I still didn't know if I'd need to carpool with anyone. So he called around while I was getting dressed, and sorted it out.
I had a lovely time at the baby shower but the problem with these things is that they're just sort of a lot of sitting around. When you can't move your legs, sitting for 4 hours in a not-very-ergonomic restaurant chair is complete torture. So I was a bit less cheerful than I could've been.
Lots of intensely adorable merchandise changed hands, much amusement took place, I was greatly entertained by the Canadians across the table (including a Toronto police officer, how handy to know!), and the only stupid game played was that everyone was given three tags, and forbidden to say "cute", "baby", or "boy"; if you were caught saying any of those words, someone else got to take your tags. The Toronto cop was exceptionally keen on this game and eventually won it, though she kept poking my shoulder and saying "Eh! Eh! What'd you say!" after I said things like "naked" or "inclement" or "puppy", because I mumble. I mean, I know I mumble, but jeez. It was pretty funny.
Z's sister was intensely amused by our incompetent wrapping job and the fact that we'd completely forgotten a card or even to write our names on the packages. "Z? Forget a card? Imagine that!" She also found it hilarious to imagine him walking into Babies R Us. "Dude, we walked in there to register, and it was the most intense culture shock we've ever experienced. We stood there with the little scanner gun thing like, holy crap."
Not my finest entry ever, this one, but I'm pretty discombobulated. No computer, no writing, and I started off the weekend all disorientated anyway... I need a vacation.
Oh, even worse than my computer death? Easter is off again. Little sister didn't have enough notice to get off from work, so she can't go to Georgia for Easter. I really can't go any later than that-- as it is I'm terrified I won't be able to either get the time off for London or afford it if I do. (That's the last weekend in April.) I guess I could go on my own with Z but with only two drivers, that is a long-ass drive for only a weekend. But plane tickets are still a bit steeper than I can manage. Not with London looming over me.
I don't know what to do.
Though if Z doesn't get off his god damned ass and apply for his fucking passport London won't even be an option, so...
God, I need to go back to bed.
I was sitting idly reading, figuring it'd probably be five minutes or so. After a while I looked up-- nearly twenty minutes just to download the updates? Huh. But it was still ticking away, so I went off to play with the cat, mildly annoyed. I was ready to start now, but the computer wasn't. Hmph. Oh well.
I came back after another fifteen minutes or so, and it had restarted, and was at the point in the boot-up where there's a pale blue background, a grey apple logo, and a little spinny wheel thing indicating that it's working. Oh good, won't be long now. I sat down again, massaging my sore legs, and waited.
Ten minutes. I opened my book again.
Fifteen minutes.
Twenty minutes.
Forty-five minutes, and I reached over and hit the power button to re-restart it.
Back to the pale blue screen with the apple logo and the wheel thing. Ten minutes. Fifteen.
Re-restarted again.
Every time it restarts of course it makes that "Boooongggg" noise. Finally Z came out of the other bedroom, where he'd been napping. "What the hell are you doing in here?" he asked.
I gestured helplessly at it. "I've been trying to restart for, like, a long time. An hour? It won't come back up."
"Hold the shift key down," he said.
I re-re-re-restarted, holding the shift key down. After about five minutes, I called into the next room, whence Z had retreated, "Can I let go of the shift key now?"
"Did it boot up?"
"No."
Muttering curses, he came back in and sat down to look at it. "This is going to be a while," he said.
He looked it up. "Oh, great," he said. "Did you install the newest system update?"
"... Yeees? Why?"
"It does this," he said. "You've got to boot into safe mode and then restart again. But it does this to everybody."
"When I boot into safe mode it doesn't come up," I protested.
"It takes a really long time," he said. "Just let it go."
"OK," I said. Booted into safe mode, went to bed.
This morning, it's still sitting there, blue screen, grey apple, little spinny wheel thing.
Yeah.
Fuck.
Meanwhile my iPod is giving me the Sad iPod screen. If I leave it plugged in for half an hour, it restarts itself until it gets past the Sad iPod screen, but it really takes half an hour, and then it periodically needs to stop mid-song and think about what it's doing.
So I'm not in a very good place, technology-wise. I backed up my hard drive a couple of weeks ago but not since the last time I downloaded photos. So I'd probably lose some mp3s I could replace, and some cute photos of Chita I couldn't, if I had to restore the old system. I'd also lose some minor edits to some writing, but I've been so profoundly unproductive, that would be OK.
It's just that I don't know what the warranty is on my computer.
And it seems retarded to lose an entire laptop to a simple system update. But I don't know what else to do; it won't boot in safe mode and there's nothing else I can make it do.
That's what I get for rebooting. I'll just never update or reboot the thing again.
Ug.
In other news, it was a busy weekend-- Saturday after the Workout of Doom I went out for breakfast with some leaguemates, got home around 2:30, took a shower, caught up on Internet communications, and then couldn't resist the temptation anymore and lay down for "just a minute" at around 4:45. I had to get up by 5, to go shopping for something for Z's sister's baby shower. And I needed to buy some new shoes, and I probably had better get another pair of neutral-colored 'fat pants' since I'm such a lardass now my cute new size 14 clothes from the summer pinch at the waistband, and my stupid patterned tights elicit so much negative attention if I wear them to work, and my wardrobe just isn't fashionably boring enough....
I woke at 5:45. I was convinced it was 5:45 am. I was dizzy and exhausted, but I was sure I had to get up for some reason. I lay there for 15 minutes, drifting in and out of sleep, and remembered that I had wanted to go to practice at 8 am on Sunday, but why would I need to get up now to do that?
I nearly rolled over and went back to sleep, but then I realized Z wasn't in the bed, and I could hear him typing in the other room. At 6 am??
Oh!
Ug. I dragged myself out of bed and got dressed, put my shoes on the wrong feet, fixed them, dragged myself around the house, and finally convinced Z he'd better drive. I was so tired.
We got to Babies R Us. It was terrifying. Oh my god.
The less said about that nightmare, the better. It was just terrifying. I couldn't deal. And then they had free giftwrap, but you had to do it yourself-- also scary. Neither Z nor I can wrap a gift to save ourselves. But we did, as best we could. Ghetto Babies R Us patterned wrapping paper, with stupid slogans printed on it, the corners all crooked, most of it just coated in tape because we're awful at this.
We went straight to the e:strip party and I apologize for getting e:James and e:Jim confused. e:Jim is the quiet shy one, e:James is the couch shark. Sorry!!!
I was in bed before midnight, and still couldn't drag my ass out of bed in time for the 8 am practice. Which is just as well; the 10-12 practice was fucking brutal, and I dragged myself out of there basically unable to move my legs. And had to go home, change clothes (no time for a shower. Those poor other ladies), and depart straight for the baby shower. While I was gone Z had not contacted any of his family or made any plans, so I still didn't know if I'd need to carpool with anyone. So he called around while I was getting dressed, and sorted it out.
I had a lovely time at the baby shower but the problem with these things is that they're just sort of a lot of sitting around. When you can't move your legs, sitting for 4 hours in a not-very-ergonomic restaurant chair is complete torture. So I was a bit less cheerful than I could've been.
Lots of intensely adorable merchandise changed hands, much amusement took place, I was greatly entertained by the Canadians across the table (including a Toronto police officer, how handy to know!), and the only stupid game played was that everyone was given three tags, and forbidden to say "cute", "baby", or "boy"; if you were caught saying any of those words, someone else got to take your tags. The Toronto cop was exceptionally keen on this game and eventually won it, though she kept poking my shoulder and saying "Eh! Eh! What'd you say!" after I said things like "naked" or "inclement" or "puppy", because I mumble. I mean, I know I mumble, but jeez. It was pretty funny.
Z's sister was intensely amused by our incompetent wrapping job and the fact that we'd completely forgotten a card or even to write our names on the packages. "Z? Forget a card? Imagine that!" She also found it hilarious to imagine him walking into Babies R Us. "Dude, we walked in there to register, and it was the most intense culture shock we've ever experienced. We stood there with the little scanner gun thing like, holy crap."
Not my finest entry ever, this one, but I'm pretty discombobulated. No computer, no writing, and I started off the weekend all disorientated anyway... I need a vacation.
Oh, even worse than my computer death? Easter is off again. Little sister didn't have enough notice to get off from work, so she can't go to Georgia for Easter. I really can't go any later than that-- as it is I'm terrified I won't be able to either get the time off for London or afford it if I do. (That's the last weekend in April.) I guess I could go on my own with Z but with only two drivers, that is a long-ass drive for only a weekend. But plane tickets are still a bit steeper than I can manage. Not with London looming over me.
I don't know what to do.
Though if Z doesn't get off his god damned ass and apply for his fucking passport London won't even be an option, so...
God, I need to go back to bed.
