The Notebook Idiot

sleek and slim

Remember before Christmas last year I blogged about wanting to have my own Notebook?  An Asus Notebook — the Seashell Karim Rashid Collection– in hot pink, to be exact (See 12 Gifts for Christmas).  Well, Santa – in the form of He-Man –granted my wish (though not the exact unit, I got a black HP Pavilion Notebook that’s really sleek and slim). But said gift came with the expectation that I will be writing more (using my NEW notebook, of course) and that I will be bold enough to submit my essays to various publications. That Santa-He-Man has such great faith in me.

So, why did I want a notebook when I have a desktop pc at home and I’m normally home, anyway?  Well for one I wanted to be able to write even when I’m out on errands.  Yeah, like while I’m waiting in line in the bank or in the supermarket, I can just bring out my notebook and type my thoughts away.  Smirk, smirk.  Like that’s even possible.  Okay, so I have pictured myself sitting by my lonesome in my favorite cafe, typing away… The picture of a writer deep in thought, creating a masterpiece while drinking her favorite iced mocha.  Nobody bothers me because they will think I am busy writing a novel (when in truth I am probably just blogging)…  Nevertheless, I will exude the confidence of a (real) writer because I have the props, I mean, tools for it.

Seriously, I really believed that having my own notebook will make me a better writer (Tiger needs his clubs… ARod needs his bat…  Get my drift?). 

What, you may ask, have I written so far using my notebook?  It’s been a month since Christmas so surely I must have already produced something. 

Well, you see, I don’t have a wi-fi router at home.  My desktop is the one connected to a broadband server, ergo, it’s what I use whenever I blog.  A couple of times I tried to type my blogs using my notebook, but then I had to save them in a usb and then transfer the file to the other computer so I can upload it online.  This practice proved to be quite time consuming, so I went back to blogging using the desktop since I can go online anytime. 

And so for the past 4 ½ weeks, said notebook was basically used for uhm, HP games like Chuzzle, Bejeweled, Slingo (Santa-He-Man can shoot me now). Oh, and yeah, Superson and his friends just love to use my notebook for Plants vs. Zombies.  They were able to upload it, somehow.

how fun is this??

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The other afternoon I went to my mom’s house while Superson was having drum lessons.  I was excited to bring my notebook because they have a wi-fi connection so I can go online anytime.  I can finally blog – or do something other than play games – using my notebook!!

 But then something went totally wrong.  For some reason, my notebook just won’t pick up the signal from the wi-fi router.  First I stayed in the dining room where my brother usually uses his laptop. No signal.  Then I moved to the library where the router was located, thinking that the signal should be stronger there.  Zilch.  I went to the other room.  Nada.  I checked the router if it was on. Yes, it was.  I checked my brother’s laptop and saw that it had internet connection.  And so I came to the realization that something was wrong with my notebook. 

I am not a quitter.  I told myself I came all this way to use my notebook, and I wasn’t leaving without having used it.  And if I had to tinker with it to solve the problem, then so be it.

And so I tinkered.

First thing I clicked was Troubleshoot. I was no dummy.  I could follow simple instructions. So I first let the computer detect the problem.  Eventually the screen said, “No connections available.”  But since I knew that there was supposed to be a wi-fi signal, I didn’t stop there.

Next thing I did was to try to change adapter settings (heaven knows why).  Then I tried to manually set up a new connection or network. Still nothing.  And then the computer asked me if I wanted to restore my original settings. I thought that it would work since I was able to get signal before my son and his friends started using the notebook for their PvZ marathon.  And so I pressed restore.

Still nothing happened. 

After about an hour of not getting anywhere, my son arrived and found out that I still haven’t connected to the internet.  I started blaming him and his friends. 

I went back to Troubleshoot and tried to read the help topics again, for the nth time.  Then I saw something that I read much earlier which I didn’t really pay attention to.

If you cannot connect to a wireless network… check the side or the keyboard for the wireless button and press it to turn on.

The wireless button was off.  The whole time.  When I pressed it, this small icon under my screen started blinking, “connection available.”

What an idiot.

i should make my own version

~*~

So what did I learn that day?

Well, for one, having a notebook doesn’t make one a better writer.  It’s merely a tool. Good writing comes from the brains, the heart, and yes, practice.  Lots and lots of practice.

Secondly, I learned that you cannot cut corners when following directions. The directions are there to be followed.  You cannot assume you know everything, because if you do know everything then there’s no need for manuals or in this case, “help” topics. 

Thirdly, a little common sense goes a long way. 

What did I do successfully that day? 

I unwittingly deleted Plants vs Zombies and Yahoo Messenger from my notebook when I pressed restore.  What an idiot, indeed.

SGM killed the Zombie... and the Plant

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photos via google images

The Notebook

*Disclaimer: This post has nothing to do with the movie. And I mean totally nothing 🙂

I started writing on a diary when I was 12.  When I discovered the fun in writing my thoughts down, it easily became a habit for me.  I think it was also because of my diaries that I realized that I loved to write.

it wasn't always this cute

Being young, though, and having to rely on my student’s allowance, I had to make do with ANY kind of notebook.  On good months (say, after Christmas or my birthday), I could afford to buy the cute, frilly kind.  So sickeningly feminine and cute.  On lean months, I would settle for anything with a spiral on the side.  As long as it had lines… and I can write on it.  Truth be told, I had more of the latter. 

What I loved about keeping a diary is that you can air out your thoughts — and your diary won’t try to oppose you or say that you’re wrong.  You can whine and vent — and your diary won’t roll its eyeballs while you’re all whiny (because it doesn’t have eyeballs, duh!).  And when I was much, much younger and was in the poetry making mode, my diary was my “artist’s canvas.” 

More than that, my diaries preserved my moments.  Good ones, bad ones, exciting ones… okay, even the boring ones (like when there’s really nothing to write about but I was so bored and I wanted to write something…it happens.)

I used to chronicle every interesting thing that happened to me.  I remember the night before the first day of my freshman year in high school, there was a concert on tv that I so badly wanted to watch (which I did)…

Spandau Ballet in the early 1980s, clockwise from left, John Keeble, Tony Had...

I'm an 80's girl...

Said concert lasted ’til midnight, and I was the only one awake and I had no one to share the excitement with… but I had my diary with me, and all throughout the concert I was writing my thoughts, along with the sequence of songs as the band sang them. I was singing and dancing, too (yes, I already knew then how to multitask). After the show, I reread my entry — about 5 pages of them — and relived the concert in my mind.  My handwriting was almost illegible, but I was happy.  I felt I saved the moment on paper.

You see, we cannot remember everything.  There will come a time when our memory will fail us.  Happens for some people way earlier and faster than for others.  Sad but true.  I don’t consider myself old (i mean, OLD) yet, but honestly, there are things — events — from years past that I cannot remember anymore.  Like a friend of mine will say, “Remember when we…” and I feel bad for not remembering.  Heck, sometimes I can’t even remember what I wore last week! (Not that it’s worth chronicling or something…)

Just as an aside, I overheard my sister and a cousin talking the other day about an event that they had together almost a decade ago, and funny thing was, both of them couldn’t remember the details.  My cousin couldn’t even remember being there!  And she blamed having had two epidurals (she has two kids now) for her memory loss.  My sister does the same, a lot of times.  She blames her epidural whenever she forgets something (Most of the time I tell her she owes me money to check if her brain cells are still active… and then the epidural gets the blame).  The thing is, we are still in our thirties!

Antonio Pigafetta, a great chronicler

I would want to remember a lot of things.  I want to preserve my memories.  When I am much older, I want to be the type who will tell her grandchildren stories of childhood and youth.  Not that they would want to listen, but that is another issue.  The thing is, I want my children and my children’s children to learn from me… to see me as the person that I am/was. I cannot tell my grandchildren stories if I don’t remember them.

That’s why I kept diaries… because I knew that at some point in time, I would want to look back and remember something — an incident, an emotion… even a heartbreak.  I can read my entry and reminisce, and relive. 

I lost most of my old diaries, though.  Nature has its way of cleaning one’s closet (i think my first ever blog was about the sorry fate of my diaries).  And then as I got older and had more pressing responsibilities (i.e., parenting and motherhood), I didn’t think I still had the time to sit and chronicle my day.  Besides, my son would probably find it hilarious if he sees me writing on a diary (You’re still using notebooks? So uncool mom!).  Yet it would be nice to chronicle my midlife adventures.

And then I realized that basically, this whole blogging experience is what it is.  My daily chronicle. I’m airing out my thoughts, I’m venting, whining, ranting, raving… sharing, teaching, humoring myself, humoring others…making friends.  Plus, I am preserving days.  I am preserving the moments that I write about

I have gone back to the habit that I began when I was a young girl.  And it’s all good.

I just hope wordpress doesn’t crash. Ever. And I mean ever, ever…

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dear diary...

 

PS.  And yes, I used to start my entries with Dear Diary.  All the time.

 

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photo via weheartit.com and google images