Day 313. Time Machine: New Year, The Meaning of Life, and Lunching for Professionals

My goal is to keep these entries shorter—for your sanity mainly, but also so that I truly will sit down and write them.  I was unsuccessful at the shortness today. Trouble is, I have so much to say.  It’s hard to limit myself.

I have been lost in my Time Machine, Apple’s external drive that acts my wireless network as well as my backup drive.  I’m trying to put my iTunes music on it so that I can listen to my music on Sonos without waking up my laptop computer.  Easier said than done.  Never mind if this is all meaningless to you. I just am searching for spots on my backup disc for my music to live, but there’s no room at the inn, so to speak.

So I have to travel back in time on the Time Machine (I visit a backup from 11:03 p.m. December 3, 2009 to delete, for example, music files, which are very large, thinking I’ll make lots of room; then I travel to February 16, 2010 8:57 a.m. to delete all the photos and movies, also space grabbers).  The process travels at the speed of a snail. I do, truly feel as though I am sucked backward into a time machine.

There’s even a timeline running up the right margin of the screen, a visual representation of time going backward, to remind me of just how far back in time I can go.  I am lost in this timeline.  It goes all the way to December 2009, January 2010, February 2010, months I just zapped completely from memory. These are months when I had so many more days left to live.

I did it without thinking at all.

That’s the tricky thing about this countdown.  The clock keeps ticking and you forget all about it.  Of course, the relative silence is a good thing.  If I heard the ticking all the time, I would go crazy. Crazier, I mean.  But sometimes, I want to remember the ticking, so that I remember my life.

Harrison, Greg, and Aiden

There are moments I want engraved on the Time Machine, like New Year’s Eve 2011 (or is it 2012?  I never know how that works).  Greg and the boys, my nephews, were here, and we had a party.  Aiden (7) had asked me on Christmas, “What is this New Year’s thing?  I mean, how does it work?”  So, we showed him, with a whole spread of treats (we bought the grocery store out of all the junky treats they chose) and watched movies, and played a fun game.  They told about what they wanted to add to their personalities in 2012 and leave behind in 2011–so thoughtfully.  And Harrison (14) was so cool, even to his brother, and Aiden got to stay up past midnight (more like 1:30!).  So I want that day written in Sharpie on my Time Machine.

I want to remember my brother Jacob coming over in the middle of the afternoon one day this

Jacob–This is how he always looks. Just kidding!

week, out of the blue, to watch his favorite movie, and mine, Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life, both of us cackling like little girls (sorry JJ, but it was true!) and saying all the lines, singing all the songs.  Like:

So remember, when you’re feeling very small and insecure,
How amazingly unlikely is your birth,
And pray that there’s intelligent life somewhere up in space,
‘Cause there’s bugger all down here on Earth.

Then he told me all about what he wants to do with his life, like getting a PhD in biology and teaching at a Community College or University because he loves research.  How amazingly flattering, for one, to think that I might have influenced him a tiny atom of a bit, but so cool for him, most importantly.  That’s worth engraving on the Time Machine.

Finally, Melanie came over the other day for lunch, and we ate some lousy soup I made (I will surely erase the soup), but then we sat on the couches for the whole afternoon just talking about life and everything.  She is so smart.  I feel like a combination gal pal and her co-parent with Carlos (gee whiz, Carlos, but our little Mel is growing up!!).  She also gave me some compelling advice on my book; now, if only I would take it and start writing again (she was the one who pointed out this great connection between my angst over my Time Machine and my book).  That day with Miss Sassy McSasserson (you know her as Melanie) is one I want etched in memory as well.

Melanie McSasserson

These are days I don’t want to fade away, you see.  It sometimes feels like the good days will fade away just as easily as the bad.

Do you have days you want to engrave in your Time Machine/Capsule? What do you do to keep them in memory?

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6 thoughts on “Day 313. Time Machine: New Year, The Meaning of Life, and Lunching for Professionals

  1. Glad you didn’t leave that one short, baby sistah! Totally loved reading it — backed it up on MY time machine! You’re all over mine by the way — and you always will be!

    PS, we had a great time on NYE with Aunt Heidi — ain’t she so cool!

    Love ya mean it! Happy New Year!!

  2. Let’s see… if we’re co-parenting Melanie, I want to know how she is planning to support us when we are old and feeble. In my case, that may happen soon.

    The first time you reset/move things around on Time Machine, it takes forever and a day. Patience, my dear. There’s no other option. You may also want to consider an external hard drive (cheap things) for your music and photo files. And use the TM to back-up purposes only.

    As for what remains… the fun thing, so far, is that good things from the past keep popping up unexpectedly. Last week I was reminiscing about the first time I saw you at NOVA (you were doing a presentation about the Writing Center and I was a potential candidate for a job opening). And you were very funny that day.

    Things and places are some sort of storage devices that do preserve memories in odd ways. I cannot look at socks without thinking of your sock collection, and hence, of you.
    The same is true of other folks as well (not that everybody has a sock collection, mind you).

    Bad things also remain part of the memory equation. If nothing else, they are useful reminders that for all the bad things seen and experienced, there’s always been people near to provide comfort and joy when I needed it most.

  3. Carlos, I think the time has come already when I am enfeebled. So Melanie had best get a top-dollar job immediately. Only the illegal things come to mind. Her co-parents don’t come cheap.

    Ah, dear one, I remember that first day when we met like it was, well, a yesterday of hundred years ago. I do know that I was so excited when I walked down the hall with you away from that class, I was practically skipping. A cool person to work with!! (After the presentation I gave, I’m lucky you consented to take the job!)

    Funny you would mention the sock collection. You may not remember that I had to put away most of the fun socks because they hurt my legs too much; however, for good or ill my legs have emaciated substantially, so my mother got out all the old socks and had me try them on. Now, many of them are not too tight at all on my toothpick legs. So about half of them have returned to what had been a very dull and sad sock box. Hooray! Hearts and Shamrocks coming up for the next few dinner parties.

    xxoo

  4. Welcome back! Love your meditation and convo with Carlos on the porcupine of memory — some prickly, some soft underbelly. And looking forward to the sock parade! luv ya…

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