oh dear.
Last week Dad ran his fortnightly virus aware programme on our home computer and in between the process of temporarily disabling files/ updating bits (or something??) the silly machine managed to put itself in some sorry coma which my Dad and I have been trying to muddle out ever since. I say I, if hanging around making cups of tea and hoping to learn something counts as helping. Either way, we've been pretty unsuccessful and after a lengthy chat with a computer man it seems the only thing to do was reboot the entire system and lose all prgrammes/ work on the computer. My first thought was to my 'book' which is some 70 odd pages of extended ideas that although is as of yet useless, may be a best seller in a few years to come.
phewf I thought as I checked some old discs, all safe. Then the concern of my C.V. and general hyped up personal statements that have been slowly improved day by day in my search for unemployment. Alas no, they were lost. But I know what I've achieved, it's just an inconvenience to do them again.
I settled back for a hour or so, irked that the work was gone but pleased that at least the computer would be up and running again. I mentally ran through the word files I could remember being on there.....Applications (oh well, I've either already applied or I'll download them again.....Blogs (yeah that's annoying. several myspace entries I've deleted and saved. Damn. But just moods surely? Nothing too bad)....C.V. (bugger!)....Drawings (meh)....Eagle1....shit.
Eagle1 is a lengthy poem I've been working on, on and off since last June. I had a laptop at University but the disk drive blew, so I uploaded all of my work onto the home computer, just to be safe. Since that time I've only used this computer so all my progress since that time has been lost. Bearing in mind I've been travelling, I'd forgotten what was actually on this computer. But along with Eagle1 I uploaded all of my work from third year. That's essays, research, and more importantly, every poem or story I wrote that year. Now it was dawning on me just how much I'd lost. Panicking, I ran to my room and dug out my journals of which there are 4 books and one leather case. Nothing in them past July 2005. Shit shit shit. I try to turn on my laptop, battery is dead. I look for the lead....can't find the lead. I'm now grabbing any black wire with a plug and trying to ram my nokia socket into the back of the little machine. No luck. I call Charlie, my friend in France, asking if she knew where it was (she had a habit of stealing my laptop and I left Leeds in a hurry. Long story, not worth it)
'Hello?'
'Charlie! Jesus, you alright? Um, do you know where my laptop lead is?'
'Hey! How are you? I'm good ta. And actually yeah I do, I meant to say at New Years but I swept it up by mistake'
*sigh of relief
'Wicked, that's great. Can you by any chance post it to me asap?'
'Uh, no, sorry. It's at my parent's house. Is everything ok?'
..........................................................
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I didn't know what was still on my laptop, I had considered selling it so there was a high chance I had deleted the files when I moved them over. Either way I couldn't check now, I had a couple of months wait at least.
Why didn't I back up???
Yes, yes, what an idiot. An idiot that has been using her USB's to upload and print off her Mum's photos, to help her technologically backward parent and try and make the general running of the computer a bit faster for everyone else. An idiot who was trying to compile a photo album as a surprise for her Mum's birthday in a couple of months, and if we're going to look at the bright side of this story, an idiot who has saved over 80% of photos which have now been otherwise lost. (The other 20%? My 21st, my graduation, several parties at University, all of last summer, photos of my ex, a trip to the zoo, a cocktail party. Nothing worth crying over Liz. Stop crying.)
And I dare say in a few days time when I do search for the bright side, I'll see this and feel good about myself for helping someone else out. But as these blogs seem to feel the brunt of my bad moods, right now I feel pretty sick. Maybe they were only pointless scribbles, maybe they weren't any good, and maybe this will never happen again. I don't know. It just seems such a waste of time and energy and creativity and if writing were a more physical product perhaps it would be more understandable, like some freak accident involving buckets of white spirit and a pile of paintings
But this work was important to me either way, and it made me feel as if I'd achieved something. I don't know what to say now. Oddly, I'm tired of writing this. blurghhh.
Everything for a reason right?
Last week Dad ran his fortnightly virus aware programme on our home computer and in between the process of temporarily disabling files/ updating bits (or something??) the silly machine managed to put itself in some sorry coma which my Dad and I have been trying to muddle out ever since. I say I, if hanging around making cups of tea and hoping to learn something counts as helping. Either way, we've been pretty unsuccessful and after a lengthy chat with a computer man it seems the only thing to do was reboot the entire system and lose all prgrammes/ work on the computer. My first thought was to my 'book' which is some 70 odd pages of extended ideas that although is as of yet useless, may be a best seller in a few years to come.
phewf I thought as I checked some old discs, all safe. Then the concern of my C.V. and general hyped up personal statements that have been slowly improved day by day in my search for unemployment. Alas no, they were lost. But I know what I've achieved, it's just an inconvenience to do them again.I settled back for a hour or so, irked that the work was gone but pleased that at least the computer would be up and running again. I mentally ran through the word files I could remember being on there.....Applications (oh well, I've either already applied or I'll download them again.....Blogs (yeah that's annoying. several myspace entries I've deleted and saved. Damn. But just moods surely? Nothing too bad)....C.V. (bugger!)....Drawings (meh)....Eagle1....shit.
Eagle1 is a lengthy poem I've been working on, on and off since last June. I had a laptop at University but the disk drive blew, so I uploaded all of my work onto the home computer, just to be safe. Since that time I've only used this computer so all my progress since that time has been lost. Bearing in mind I've been travelling, I'd forgotten what was actually on this computer. But along with Eagle1 I uploaded all of my work from third year. That's essays, research, and more importantly, every poem or story I wrote that year. Now it was dawning on me just how much I'd lost. Panicking, I ran to my room and dug out my journals of which there are 4 books and one leather case. Nothing in them past July 2005. Shit shit shit. I try to turn on my laptop, battery is dead. I look for the lead....can't find the lead. I'm now grabbing any black wire with a plug and trying to ram my nokia socket into the back of the little machine. No luck. I call Charlie, my friend in France, asking if she knew where it was (she had a habit of stealing my laptop and I left Leeds in a hurry. Long story, not worth it)
'Hello?'
'Charlie! Jesus, you alright? Um, do you know where my laptop lead is?'
'Hey! How are you? I'm good ta. And actually yeah I do, I meant to say at New Years but I swept it up by mistake'
*sigh of relief
'Wicked, that's great. Can you by any chance post it to me asap?'
'Uh, no, sorry. It's at my parent's house. Is everything ok?'
..........................................................
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I didn't know what was still on my laptop, I had considered selling it so there was a high chance I had deleted the files when I moved them over. Either way I couldn't check now, I had a couple of months wait at least.
Why didn't I back up???
Yes, yes, what an idiot. An idiot that has been using her USB's to upload and print off her Mum's photos, to help her technologically backward parent and try and make the general running of the computer a bit faster for everyone else. An idiot who was trying to compile a photo album as a surprise for her Mum's birthday in a couple of months, and if we're going to look at the bright side of this story, an idiot who has saved over 80% of photos which have now been otherwise lost. (The other 20%? My 21st, my graduation, several parties at University, all of last summer, photos of my ex, a trip to the zoo, a cocktail party. Nothing worth crying over Liz. Stop crying.)
And I dare say in a few days time when I do search for the bright side, I'll see this and feel good about myself for helping someone else out. But as these blogs seem to feel the brunt of my bad moods, right now I feel pretty sick. Maybe they were only pointless scribbles, maybe they weren't any good, and maybe this will never happen again. I don't know. It just seems such a waste of time and energy and creativity and if writing were a more physical product perhaps it would be more understandable, like some freak accident involving buckets of white spirit and a pile of paintings
But this work was important to me either way, and it made me feel as if I'd achieved something. I don't know what to say now. Oddly, I'm tired of writing this. blurghhh.Everything for a reason right?
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
If you get an email account at Yahoo, and send yourself stuff, then your email is held on their server while the account is active. That means you can use it to keep backups
(You will want to look at the small print, make sure they don't claim intellectual property rights over anything sent...
Dandelions: it's not picking them, it's eating them. They make good salad, I hear, but I've never tried.
Good luck...