As I type this entry, happily eating what must be said, a very tasty slice of Ham and Pineapple pizza, one thing springs to mind; I have greasy fingers. Usually, I’d be having kittens at this point, but not now. My fingertips dart over the keys, and I have one over-riding thought in my mind. This computer is no longer mine.

It’s happened; two days ago, I was contacted by Executive Relations at Apple UK. My 12″ PowerBook has had it’s warrant signed, by me, and by a Higher Up at Apple. My MacBook has finally been ordered. A Core Duo 2GHz and a Gb of RAM, and a light up keyboard. I’m as happy as anything. They’ve even decided to throw in a new case for me. Really, the speed boost should be the most exciting thing for me, but no. It’s a light-up keyboard. Something I could have had two years ago, in fact, were it available on the 12″ PowerBook range. Never was, and really, never will be. Jacqui has a review up at Ars on the 1.83 Core Duo, and it’s excellent; despite the utter bullshite Slashdot and the News thread generated, it’s well rounded and an actual review of the hardware by a real user, not a regurgitation of the press release.
Either way, I’ve now got to wait until I get a fucking tracking number, and then the agonising weeks until it goes from Pending, Packing, Shipping, Shipped, and then all aboard the Mystery Bus to the middle of the fucking airport, a plane ride to the Netherlands, then to the UK, and handing it over to TNT for lord only knows how long until some under-paid driver hands over my Precious.

I’m in for one fuck of a long wait.