Lose One "Friend." Lose All Friends. Lose Yourself.*

*Not a cry for sympathy. Just life...as I see it.

I consider myself an independent individual. One who doesn't depend on, but enjoys, the company of others. But on Tuesday, December 2, 2008, I experienced a loss quite like no other. My Macbook committed suicide, leaving me with nothing but a flashing folder and a question mark to cope. I cannot express in words the suffering I have undergone since said occurrence -- the stress, the pain, the nostalgia, the disorientation, the despair. My love for it over this past one year was repaid with the selfishness of its suicide. It hurt everyone but itself. I like to think that it had no basis for its action. It was treated no worse than others like its kind. Granted, it was sent through airport security more than one would desire; it was made to entertain me with music through the night; it was made to accompany me through most of the day; but in the end, I gave it the utmost respect.

Jokes aside, this week has been a realization if I ever knew one. I am almost embarrassed at how dependent I have become on this one piece of technology. A spotty recollection of this semester's lectures. Complete unawareness of the locations, timings, or existence of my meetings and commitments. The absence of my photos, music, videos, writing, and then some...memories. I am a retrograde amnesiac.

It may be pathetic and perhaps I shouldn't be uninhibitedly publicizing my predicament, but this day in age, technology is the beating heart. It wasn't a Macbook but my Macbook, personalized by only that which represents my thoughts, interests, and experiences. And to be staring at the sparse dock and blank desktop that is "a" Macbook that now faces me is inexplicably depressing.

Just having mailed my "too far gone" hard drive home with the hopes that the Silicon Valley can live up to its name, I try not to think about all that I have lost and continue to remain optimistic. After all, retrieving data...isn't this what the CIA does for a living?

In the end, for someone who feels this strongly attached to her laptop, it's shameful that I hadn't backed up my files. I thought that it couldn't possibly go at just a year old. But I guess we are reminded of the chilling resemblance between technology and human life. Both have unquantifiable value and are frustratingly unpredictable.