c'est la vie

so we got burgled on friday.

we, as in the boyfriend and i. because our rooms are right on top of each other in the same house, so presumbably that made a lot of sense in the filthy-scum-bastard-burglar's mind that only my room and his room get hit in a house of 7 bedrooms.

the weird thing was, i didn't even realise anything had been taken till the boyfriend called down to me from the top of the stairs saying all my bank cards (vodafone top-up card, UOB electron visa, HSBS savings card) were strewn around his doorway. so i took them from him, went back to my room, put them back in the wallet they were originally in, before realising that my table looked a bit bare. thought over it for 2 seconds, and realised

FUCK MY LAPTOP IS GONE

and so began the great burgled! debacle. police were called, then got shoved to the Southwark police division, then to the CSI, and then the Peckham police calling and wondering whether 'there might be a chance... i hate to ask this, but do you trust everyone in the house?.

that is just so not a question you ask someone who has just lost her beloved 12-inch G4 Powerbook with 2 years of academic work and 8 months of photographs evidencing my summer holidays and other exciting events that happened and years of painstakingly sourced and collated music files and tonnes of other personal notes and writings stored in it's hard-drive, mofo.

but on the bright side, nothing else was taken save for a packet and a half of marlboro lights. bloody stinking scoundrel of a smoker that burgler is. and no one was hurt. i can't imagine if someone was in the house at that time, or if we'd walked in right in the middle of the operation. knowing them south london scumbags, i'd probably be in hospital - as evidenced by the two turkish shops across the road who have shown us scars above the eyebrow from fighting off robbers/burglars/lowdownstealingscummybastards and also new doors because the last one installed just last month got broken down by those vile creatures i shall not name again.

such is the peril of living in my part of town where we are surrounded by the biggest council estate in europe, that is rightly being torn down soon. cheap rent and nice street, sure. but the area has just gone to the dogs. i think all the cute kids suddenly realised that they are disaffected and impoverished, thus giving rise to the prevalent crime culture and gangsta-emulation that i see everywhere - and also giving birth to the immoral monster that burgled our house.

on the other hand, i'm not goign to move out just because someone took my laptop. it could've happened anywhere at anytime. in fact, i think so far i've gotten off pretty lightly. this has been my first brush with the actual violent (or potentially violent) criminal world where rape, mugging and knife-point robbery happens on a daily basis. just getting my laptop stolen is probably making up for everything else i've lucked out of.

this is not to say i'm not upset and am rather contented by all that karma shit. no way jose. i hope that burglar gets his own stuff stolen. or gets an ounce of the most disgusting skunk that makes a bad trip sound like a holiday and smokes it all and then keels over into a gibbering wreck never to go around stealing someone else's property ever again. or get thrown into police custody. or get knifed. or get struck down by lightning.

whatever it is, i have to accept that i'm not getting my laptop back.

so farewell my lovely, i hope you find a nice new owner who will recognise you for what you're worth even though he/she probably bought you in a cash-converters or from the boot of a car.

and to the guy that took it,

damn you cheebye motherfucker i hope you die in the worst possible manner and never get reincarnated but spend the eternity of your afterlife in the 18th level of hell getting your just desserts you fucking prick.