It's been a while since I have updated due to massive computer problems. I've been very frustrated the past few days because I have not been able to listen to any of my music. I grow afraid for our future historians. On my little laptop, I have seven plus years worth of papers, articles, photographs, essays, poems, and journal entries. I have been saving digital copies of my own writing that it is meaningful, ranging from intros to short stories and slam poems. My writing in paper-bound journals has slowed significantly in the past few years, and when my SLR was stolen, my photography switched to fully digital. Now, I find myself on the brink of losing all of this if I don't figure something out. I initially rid the computer of this virus that it's caught, but it has seeded itself in my laptop and is reproducing like dwarf rabbits in the spring. I can't open the computer in safe mode, and have a hard time opening exe files, can't get to the command prompt, or use the task manager. Oi, vey.
It has inspired me to do several things: write in my paper journal FIRST. Sure, it takes longer to write everything out by hand, but it will take a fire to destroy my reflections (not a computer program). I bought a new SLR and I plan to take more film photos. Film photography is quickly growing outdated, but bitmaps and gifs have already grown outdated, and I don't imagine jpegs are much further behind. Also, I have a new-found since of understanding for record collectors. Most of my life i have tried to minimize my personal possessions, but now I wish I had made an exception for records. Even when a record is scratched or bent it will at least still try to play. Records maintain a sense of weight, presence, and permanence that CDs and MP3s simply do not. All it takes is one malicious jerk to destroy my entire (digital) music collection, or one accidental fingernail scratch to ruin my favorite CD.
In short, eugh. I need to become myself at 15 again, i.e., an eccentric Luddite who left a paper trail for herself to follow back home in the event that a bit of malicious behavior threw her off course. 20th century, here I come.