Choosing new companions

So. I haven't written here for so long  you may have thought I've forgotten about that account o'mine.   Rest assured, I didn't -  there was just too much work, overhaul needed, both inside and outside the house -  I love spring, I really do, but it's consistent with the title of the busiest  time of the year, aside autumn.

Aside the February-incited trial job,  and the power-working through both house, field and garden (the joys of shoveling dirt where outside are almost summer temperatures, with no clouds in sight), I've also managed to drive along learning three languages at the same time -  yes, yes, ballsy, but in my defense, I can go only so long  without being inexplicably bored.  Thus, idle mind = devil playground -  maybe not,  my head is always running with ideas and whatnot, but knowing more than one foreign language can only be useful in life.

Of course, I've got fed up with my Apple 3G iPhone -  loved the bit to death, almost literally,   but it got worn out to the degree it didn't  pop any notifications for incoming SMS,  calls were also something hit-and-miss, so I've reluctantly saddled over to the brand new Huawei Y5 II.

Overall impression -  phone is cute as a button, even if it managed to somehow be greedy enough to much a whole lot of card data, and the transfer of important bits (i.e. phone numbers, SMS evidence) was a pain in the ass to deal with, especially because I hadn't known that iPhone and Android based phones actually like sharing data with each other like rabid dogs and cats. To put in simply, none, and I had to go to the official operator to get the Huawei going as it should.  The phone voice is tinny,  I really can't hear it well, even if it's on the biggest volume, but it does have a handy back-light so yes,  safer ways when the autumn and winter  will be coming around the corners. For the budget phone it's good, now gotta find out how to load on some music. oh, and upgrade it with something to better hear the voice.

As it goes, my backpack also slowly announced its retirement, so I went on a manhunt for a new one.  A manhunt that lasted at least two weeks. Two. Weeks. The last thing that took so long was when my brother prompted me to choose which washing machine we ought to buy.  And I think it  says much about my character that I was prepared to sacrifice so much time  for one backpack, much more willingly than one washing machine. But in my defense,  nobody wears  quarter of a ton worth of washing machine on their back, so there.

My latest backpack, so to say, was  made  by  company called American Tourister, and in the time I had bought it, it was darned pricey thing. But I fell in love with it at first glance, sight and nuzzle, so to speak (yes, very tactile person here),  and it has served me well  for...almost a decade. Which is kind of a record  even in my books,  when I remember that my first backpack lasted me for solid 8 years (entire primary school).  My high school backpack   -  a veritable monster from Hi-Tech Academia - suffered through the whole four years of abuse -  and I mean abuse, because  it wasn't anything unusual if I've dragged around some 6 or 7 kilos worth of stuff on my back daily,  most of it books for me to read.  And it still served strong, even if we had to fortify the bottom, but it  suffered through the additional abuse my mum had heaped upon it silently and honestly until it very nearly went to pieces.

Moral of this little story? Durability, for me, is  one of the best and biggest factors in buying a bag. I want my bag to be like a cockroach -  so to say, be able to  survive damn near bar atomic explosion, and if it does survive even that, then I am sold. Then, good back support and  bag straps to follow through the support of damn near insane loads. And also, to be able to weather the weather -  yes,  pun, I know, but it's appropriate here, and then to be orderly enough for my little collection of pens, books and whatchamacallits I usually tote around.  Last, but not least, safety.  I avoid the shoulder bags  because of the simple reason -  not only they are bad for posture when they are loaded, but they are also stupidly easy to snatch by a thief, and then, goodbye  your wallet, your money, your personal data, your identity.  Oh, and your phone, too.

(Remember: It's not paranoia if they are out to get you. I believe in goodwill of my fellow people, but it's a fact there are still some around who don't play by rules of so-called polite society.  And being a damsel in distress is not a rewarding position for the one who finds themselves in it.)

My little tour around in the real world and through the virtual one  made me aware of a distressing reality -  companies more often than not cater to the 'cute' and 'cool'  instead of 'practical'. I almost wept with despair in one of the shops when I've found out  that there were almost no secret compartments which would be readily available to  safely stash in the valuables.  Sure,  Dakine stood up with their thermo-insulated pockets for  the electronics, but  no thoughts about wallet storage.  And I very nearly screamed with outrage when the kind vendors told the that the oh-so-cool zips does zilch, nada, zero when a veritable hailstorm of rain  decides to vent it's  watery anger onto your innocent backpack.  I've lived in the era when it was normal and even required for the zips to have been covered with little flaps as to prevent the rain or snow to get to the zips and consequently into the  backpack's interior.   In the era of electronic, it became fashionable -  don't ask me why -  that the zips are all-freaking-out, with no protection, especially when it comes to electronic equipment stored in the bag! The horror!

The only one who had some redeeming points here was Eastpak, becasue some of their models got the required flaps over the zips (thank God, there are still some sane people  designing the bags on the world), and both Everki and Port Design also include little rain cover for their backpacks. Sadly, Port Design elected to have theirs in neon yellow (ouch, my EYES!!!), and for Everki, I am not even sure if our vendors even include it  along the bag aside some specific -  and very pricey models.

And here we go. Price and availability.  In the era when  you can get a backpack for as low as some 20 quids, it may be almost mind-boggling for anyone aside really serious travelers, bag aficionados and motorists to shell out  some really big bucks for what they want. Availability -  I am really grateful I have Uncle Google to ask about particulars, otherwise I would be one miserable little being, having to settle for something of an inferior quality and make just  becasue I hadn't known that there were other options. Though, I also nearly got some heart attacks  when I saw just what some bags were priced, and I really began to wonder just how much they were worth of their price tag in reality. I even contemplated ordering my new backpack in some other country by a reliable company, but the import taxes... Wow. Let's just say: I was looking at the backpacks of the upper price range. The import taxes were of an almost equal sum to it. And there's also the fact when there were some good bags, but I would have to shell out as many bucks as for a middle-to-high-ranged mobile phone or a very high-ranged hearing aid.  And this, from me as a deaf of hearing person, says much,  because I've been intimately acquitted with the prices of the latter, all in the name of good hearing, however much I've still got.

I have to say, my country don't  have developed culture or even conscience just how much can a good backpack mean a difference in a person's life.  We got used to buying things, if we don't like them,  we  give them away, thrash them,  or sell them, and very rarely  a simple backpack  means so much as to be a staple in our lives - here, dependable through thick and thin, well-used and well-loved.  Maybe I am too picky, some may also accuse me of being a backpack aficionado.  But I think I have a right to be, considering that I've put my back through unreasonably heavy loads and the ensuing discomfort resulting from it, be that in rain or shine,  taught me to appreciate just how much my spine could bear. However, I also had to acknowledge that this won't last forever.  Additionally,  I began to appreciate that my things were stored safely, be that rain, snow or shine, I could always be sure that everything inside the bag was dry as it ought to be.

With that in mind, I've found a perfect backpack for me. Here's to hoping it would follow the steps of its well-worn and well-loved compatriots and be my faithful  companion for a  long time to come. I won't be saying which one is it or even which brand, because people have different tastes, and what may be a perfect backpack for me, may not suit you.

But I implore you -  next time when you  see a bag or backpack (or any other thing, really,) and you think to yourself - "Hey! This is a seriously good deal!"  -  think a little of the item in question not as a temporary fix for your needs, however pretty or cool it may seem to be, with a price to match, but as a lifelong companion, at least for the duration of life of that particular bag or backpack.  Take it in your hands.  Search it's insides  - imagine yourself having it, wearing it for a long time, for many years to come.  Be that  in a town, on a journey,  or a picnic -  anywhere and everywhere you would think or love to take this particular bag or  backpack with you.  And then ask yourself, if you love that image -  love it enough to say that this is your one, the bag you would happily tote around -  not because it's fashionable, but because it really fits you and your needs to a T, so much that you take it along wherever and whenever the road takes you. Don't be satisfied with making compromises.  Search for it, learn about it and be prepared to shell out maybe some  more bucks for a really good quality bag that would see you through many years, much to your  satisfaction,  instead of thinking you would be 'cool' with it just because of its price.

Your spine, and consequently you, along with your laptop and sense of safety, deserve better.

About idiots really wanting to be idiots

This morning, I've received a review that was really disparaging to my writing skills.

Let's see:

Read a few chapters and this is my final impression: Promising but ultimately bland. Sena is in the early stages of becoming a gary stu and the narrative themes (or lack thereof) demonstrate a lack of substance. Writing is a difficult process, so props for investing the time and effort either way.
-Van

I am amazed that this person dared to practically spit on my work -  nay, dared to sound so intelligent, while when I went to look at their profile, not even racking up the reviews and viewers, and then still saying  the above mentioned opinion like they were the alpha and omega of how should the stories be written.  The last sentence especially drove me up the wall -  Writing is a difficult process, so props for investing the time and effort either way. 

Really? I mean, really? I am on the writing scene 10 years, give or take some.  Path of Grace is one of my earliest works, so it's a given it's  a little bit awkward,  narrative-speaking. But I object to the person's description of Sena as Gary Stu.

It's understandable, what with me giving Sena amnesia,  and getting him a little bit more self-confident along with a strong interest in running first and foremost.  But he is not a top dog.  He still has trouble with Hiruma and he's still oh so very awkward with people around him.  If there was really something that pissed me off in the manga version, was the protagonist's  incessant shrieking and scaredy-cat manners. Some time ago, yes, they were cute.  But through all the series, no. Thus the birth of this story.

About the intrepid reviewer who got the dubious honor of pissing me off. I could go to their writing site and really lambast them. Their review gave me a bad taste in my mouth because it was disrespectful, and what was more, discourteous way of treating me as a person and a writer.  I fear for people who may also have the misfortune of gathering the said person's disinterest thus prompting such reviews. That kind of reviewer is not needed nor wanted, because they unintentionally crush other people with their holier-than-thou's attitude. I am just grateful that  my readers and reviewers had bolstered my sense of writing worth way before I had the dubious honor of reading this little piece drivel that arrived into my mail box today.

 But dogs bark while caravan moves on. Miss or Mister Vandenberg, thank you for your illustrious opinion, however in the sum of everything, it means nothing to me. I enjoy writing and I will damn well make a career out of it. What will you do with your life,  it's your own business, but thanks for teaching me what kind of reviewer I definitely DON'T want to be.

Case closed,

Eirenei

Happy Birthday to me... or was that I?

March 23rd. Once again, the Earth rolled around enough to come back onto the point where I was born some years ago -  not telling how many, that would be rude, as some would think I am bragging, and some would think I am undermining my age, so... No.

I have to admit, this was one of the best birthdays I've ever had -  and that can be attributed solely to my family.  I know I've had my share of tiffs with them,  and they  constantly  try to make my hair grey with their pouting over each other, but this day, I  really felt that I was loved and appreciated as I am.

The gifts were simple -  small potted flower, orange bed covers and a small cake with delicious lunch from my parents, and then shock!  I never thought -  for all the tiffs I've had with my brother that he would completely, totally and utterly floor me with a cake and a small figurine of a computer on it!  Well -  not exactly small,  but what amused me the most, was that the cake figurine had my FF page written on and how many stories I've written up till now.   I didn't know whether to laugh, be mortified or be totally amused by my brother's ... total acceptance of my strange hobby of writings galore.  We've talked about it last week, but I never, ever dreamed that he would do something so... off the wall for me. I think he had ruined any later cake-books for me. /laughs, delighted/

I am not the easiest person to get along with, especially because of my hobbies and single-mindedness when it concerns books, reading or writing, but I am happy and grateful that I am accepted as I am.

Even if  the second gift was one  enormous monster of a book by George R.R. Martin,  Dance with Dragons.  In English, of all languages. /amused, and a little bit miffed/   It's a fifth part of the monster story of Game of Thrones, so I don't have any excuse not to read it anymore /a little bit helpless on the issue/. If I've read Lord of the Rings,  then  my excuse that this book is too long is  completely invalid /wry smile/. Added bonus -  at least for him -  is that   reading of this monster would take  me a long way from computer.

Caring is not an advantage

Yes, I am borrowing that overly pretentious quote of BBC Sherlock's.

My family life is not exactly ideal, and I  am now torn on who is right and who is wrong ont eh issues that plague us.

My father is an alcoholic.  My mother is overly controlling. Both whine a lot when something doesn't go  their way.  My brother outright avoids the work at home  because he doesn't do well with their  whining, and so, half of the brunt of the work falls on my  shoulders,  be that knowingly or not.

Both of the parents are already elderly -  well, mid-elderly if I should term it right, and they have a plethora of health issues to boot.  Most prominent, of course, are mum's issues, what with Restless Leg Syndrome (RLS), backaches from that car accident what... seventeen years ago, weak joints and of course her over-sensitivity on cold. Father is, as I said, an alcoholic and  has problem with prostate -  he  went through his first operation this year, and now  recuperating at home. Thankfully, both of them are mobile.  Both of them don't speak with each other, except when there are money matters or there's something to be done at home in  a work sense.

Brother already has job and   he is on an equally bad terms with both father and mother, who regulate their 'complaints' via me or try to get them into his thick skull when he comes to discuss something.  /head meets desk/.  He doesn't  really work at home, because he is overly prideful and sensitive to criticism that had  been issued his way in the past, which pisses me off, because then most of the heavy jobs got delegated on me. Heavy jobs as in shoveling the dirt in the garden,  taking care of the fields, mainly by pulling the weeds here, planting potatoes,  taking care of potatoes, weeding the field. Let's not even mention the kitchen duty, hanging the washed clothes and ironing them when they dry out and taking care of the general cleanliness of the house, not to mention dish-washing duties at morning, after lunch and at evening. And of course, shoveling the chicken shit -  literally. The only  job I am more or less exempt for it picking the apples directly  from the trees (my balance is  not up to the par to play she-Tarzan, so I am picking them off the ground), shoveling the snow and handling any heavy and sharp machinery with exception of kitchen apparatus and hoover. Mother handles planting the garden -  more or less,  not the onions though - and picking apples off the trees, and making jams and conserving the vegetables along with storing both meat and vegetables, and father handles preparation of the logs, along with taking care of the small vineyard, random repairs around the house

I am still waiting on the response of the committee for disabled  for my work permit, and hopefully, I will get it before my birthday to get going. /pinches the bridge of the nose, irritated/. It won't solve all of the problems because mother is still trying to rope me into working at the fields, garden and at the house, but brother told me that I should place a vivid border  to where I am willing to go and not further.  it made me think that maybe I am too soft with her -  fetching her this and that and doing things for her. Brother also told me that she also uses me to solve her problems for her  when concerning computer, as she doesn't even try to  find a solution first before running to me to repair the latest mishap she got on her laptop.  /Sweatdrops/. And all the while,  when I point her out that  she could just as easily get the answers from the 'net,  she begins to complain that she is so busy, doesn't have time, et cetera.  I seriously wonder  about her technological knowledge at the rate she is  going  - sure, I also mooched off my brother's tech know-how the first few years when we got  our first computer, but  since he told me to search for the knowledge in question by myself, I am working out and repairing the laptop kinks all by myself.  She has the formal education in some 40-60 hours of  workshop, which should be a good basis for her to  do things alone, but  the first year had been sometimes borderline painful and  exercise in patience when I had been teaching her the basics of the basics of the laptop's  ins and outs.  Even now, she only knows Skype, Windows Media Player, basics of Facebook and basics of Gmail.  Download  of the pictures form the photo machine still eludes her -  that, or she is simply too tired or too lazy to get it figured out and committed to memory by herself.   She complains that I have the unfair advantage of being younger  and more  involved with computers overall, and  her  brains are  sometimes feeling like Swiss cheese  because of the concussions she got in her youth, along with her age.   Still, it pisses me off, because she took her sweet time to learn how to navigate chess site,  while  she  downright forgot some other  important basics.   Maybe I am being unfair,  as my  knowledge is quite extensive on the know-how of the importing and uploading the documents (as a writer, it's a prerequisite knowledge anyway,), while  my handling of  Excel could still improve more. (Word too, even if I am a solid user of the  program).  But she is wrong on the issue of how long  what did it take me to learn the whole shebang.  Most  of what I know is actually self-learned, either by trial and error or by the help of internet sources,  and maybe I am not doing her any favors with spoon-feeding knowledge I've gained  over the years in the half an hour she usually whines about her troubles with her laptop. What is for me completely clear as a day to me,  may be  the darkest of nights for  her, so to speak.

This week,  I've listened, and  come to the conclusion  my parents are complaining too  much.  Sometimes, there are small issues, sometimes  there are big ones,  but  it's done little to actually solve them.  They don't speak with each other -  if who, then brother and me  speak to each other, though  I am still of the opinion that  he cleverly  railroaded me off my attempts to include him into the housework to direct my ire at mother, and partially at father.  I don't know how to prove him that  mother is not lazy, loudmouthed and overly bossy and controlling woman like he pictures her in his mind, and  even less on how to prove that  father is actually alcoholic.   At least we solved the issue of mutual self-respect, because today we both went too far  - he accused me to be too violent, and I accused him to have no sense on where the fun ended and harassment began.  It took a good row,  some harsh words and pointing fingers at both the accused parties to resolve that, but I hope we are better now for it, though  I still don't like to argue and I am  wondering if my first response is really violence.

Is it really?  Well,  if  I got pissed off enough,  then yeah, I can and will use violence, though  I hope I will always know where the line is. But with the red fury I occasionally get -  today it was because my brother invaded my room and began teasing me with attempting to toy with my food while the dog was in my room -  this broke the camel's back and I punched him in the gut.  Not with the whole  force -  I  trained Karate, and by my standards,  the punch was quite mild, but he reacted with whacking the back of my head which exploded into the aforementioned argument. I also had the  whole episodes when I could've strangled his neck quite cheerfully sometimes int he past when he really, truly and completely pissed me off.  Luckily for both of us,  I got good enough self-restraint on my side. I am  proud to say I didn't cower and irritated that I cried.

Violence... Sometimes I was praised for it, and maybe I was a bully sometimes because of it.  Maybe my filter is loosened somewhat -  I have quite a fierce temper and when I was teased in the primary school, my answer was  violence.  Most of my schoolmates were amused at my reactions -  it was more or less all in a good fun, but  not to  the extent I would harm someone extensively and I never used martial arts.  Accidentally, once  one of my schoolmates bumped into an edge of the window's frame, but that was all.

I am sick of it.  Sick of my actions in the past -  sometimes I was a bully when I thought I was a protector.  I was an idiot then, but  I stopped when they asked.  This still doesn't make it right, and  maybe still doesn't reason  adequately that my first response, when someone goes too far  -  in this case my brother -  is violence.

I didn't trust the words, because  more or less, my brother ignored me, when I asked him to cease his teasing.  Thus, my next answer was a violence.  Wrong, yes, but it was then my till then long fuse was blown up. 

Nowadays, my temper is calmer, and I can usually calm down and rationalize before I get really pissed off.  I learned that being too hot of a temper I can hurt the adversaries, be that  verbally or via punching them.

I am confused. My family is a hodgepodge of good and bad decisions, tempers and characters. I don't know who to trust or even what to do to straighten their crooked relationships to level where all of us could function more or less  normally. Sometimes, I am feeling guilt about it, and also a helpless anger because. They. Just. Don't. Go. Along!

I am not mediating between the three idiots anymore.  They will be speaking between themselves,  it's not worth headaches,  suppressed temper and lost time to listen to their whining.  Sherlock Holmes said it right -  'Caring is not an advantage',  but I am  adding this -
Too much caring is not an advantage. 

It poisons mind, heart and spirit, it's a sickness that masquerades  under the mask of goodness  and we were too conditioned to be good, even if only in the public.  I am sick of being good and proper and  sacrificing my mental health just to fake the facade of 'all is well' in front of everyone and their dog.  I can beat myself all I want for my past demeanor, but that won't change anything, except making me  even more depressed I already am. Today I thought of  taking the rest of the tablets -  very strong painkillers -  and finish everything.  Fuck them and their arguments and them loading the work on me and get my own peace. It's not the first  time I've thought of suicide, and it's not the last, either. I am fed up about caring about them, about their needs and demeaning my own just because it's a right thing to do. I can't fucking base my own self-worth on their opinions of me being a good daughter, sister or 'good person' overall.

What I can do, is to stand up for myself -  even against my mother. I love her, really, but she guilt-trips me and takes advantage of my helpful nature. I am not the only one at the house to work, and it may take some arguments and everything before the new balance would set in.  Really... wish me luck.  Because  going against the ones that know you the best - i.e. your family -  is not a quest to be taken lightly.

 

Exercise Woes

This. Is. Bullshit.

No, don't need you excusing me for cussing.  I am simply irritated with my training regime, or moreover with my habit of sticking it into the impossibly late hours and my  consequent  tiredness across the day.

Even if the January had begun fantastically -  I got a job interview and  I am slotted to do a probation period starting Monday,  my mind is all kind of wracked up with worries and 'what-if'  bad scenarios.  I am overthinking it as it is -  I am just a trainee, for a God's sake, but I am worrying as if I were dropped into a hot water of being CEO of a sinking ship, so to speak.  Friday this week I returned home all kid of burned out  from the subsequent work-meeting  where I received the details of the work, and  I crash-landed straight onto bed -  no wonder,  regarding I was up to some 1 in the morning with worries and my late-night reading.

Getting up at 7,  going at 8, meeting at 9,  then waiting to 11.30 for the drive back and  finally getting home at some 13.30. Thankfully,  sleep restored some of my energy, but later in the evening, I was beset by a monster of a headache that haunted me through the workout.   It faded about  midnight, was up to half past midnight,  and then went snoozing.

Next morning, I was good,   but I noticed I began losing my energy in the early afternoon again. Maybe  becasue I got into the sweets binge before the lunch - I felt bad, so I kinda  thought something sweet would pick me up,  massacred a handful of homemade biscuits and then had pasta with bean and onion salad with a chili spiced dip. And  my  freaking feelings got into a nosedive again.

I know I am worrying too much.  I am worrying about worrying about worrying, in fact, and that  got me into a binge eating today. I practically dragged myself through my portion of exercising -  yes, both of the parts -  but  I did it.   Sometimes I thought why the fuck I am even going through it, when it kinda doesn't show visibly yet. A waste of my time  of  just my self image  as a forever  chubby kid? /rubs the bridge of nose, irritated/

I don't know.  I don't know how I will be juggling my responsibilities as a probie, as a part of the family and how  I would manage the me time, both the exercising and writing, and don't get me even started on a social life! /frazzled/

I started the exercise regime because  I  knew  that  being in batter body shape will also  help me with the shape of my mind -  clearer and better thinking,  having more energy,  etc,  which is practically required for work, 8 hours per day.  Exercising part goes well -  well,  Tibetan exercises are sometimes a murder on my body,   HHA  is a little bit dull now when I got into the rhythm, and  I somehow  both detest and like them -  detest them because  I don't accept excuse to skip them, and like them,  because they   do my body good, even if  visibility is not -  well, visible yet. I am my own  referee on that one,  and  at this point, I am sometimes tempted to throw the towel into the ring, so to speak, and only my freaking pledge is holding me back from it.

Right.  No excuses now, gonna go write the rest of those snippets before hitting the snooze.

Oww owww owwww...

My freaking ribs hurt!

When I got into that  kind of commitment, I didn't  expect that my ribs would be the ones to pay the price, so to speak.

Behind me,   I have  two days of  exercise I self-prescribed to myself. And  what do you know,  it works.  Somehow -  just not in the sense  I imagined it would -  well,  this last one is a lie, I knew perfectly well what I was heading myself into  when I  chose those two, but  still, no amount of knowledge  prepares you for the pain that follows.

I began with Hip Hop Abs, and I am in a reasonably good shape.  So  the next morning, when I began with Tibetan exercises,   I was unpleasantly surprised that my core muscles outright rebelled  when I was holding the 'candle' position.   Urgh.

So today, I was understandably apprehensive,  if the core would rebel again -  I  did get my body through HHA last evening, but to my surprise, this time the  pain culprit wasn't the core, but the ribs -  or, if you are die-hard Latin geek, serratus anterior and latissimus dorsi.  Those two are uncomfortably sore, but on the other  side, my posture is  a little bit  better.

I have to admit, I dread the evening this  time, because it will be Ab Sculpt part of the  HHA,  and I know for a fact  my stomach muscles will be crying for mercy  -  if not  today, then tomorrow. Well, I will have to deal with it when it comes, so no point in dithering. 

Banzai!

Windows 7 uploading shenanigans

More or less of a footnote from the last year regarding Win7 and  the  installation process

So, it was the time  that my hard disk in the laptop was almost full again, and what do you know,  the freaking thing  was bloated despite me moving the files to my outer disk.   I have to admit, JARVIS as I named the 1TB  Western Digital disk, was one of the best investments from the last year, becasue otherwise, I would be one very sorry writer right now.

We writers, by definitions, are pack rats,   so my disk was chock-full of the text,  pictures and whatnot, and in a dire need of good old reformatting and reuploading.

Thing is, I haven't had a clue on how to do the  freaking thing, as up until now,  the go-to person for this was my  brother. Sad, sad world.  And I considered myself  tech-savvy.  /ashamed shake of head./

So, I've done  several things.

1 -  Did the  list of programs I used  on the soon-to-be croaked-OS and saved it on my outer disk Jarvis -  from here on, called J -

2 - Did the backup of the licenses used.  Believe me, this is dead useful to have, otherwise you are stuck in a deep, deep shit and  the entire  installation/uploading shtick can take  two or three days

3 - Did the same  for the wireless data. I am impressed,  the  Microsoft techies  saved me a plethora of a headache and brother-begging with that  particular feature.

4 - Rooted around my CD and DVD's  for the installation disk

5 - Read and  wrote/copied the instructions on how to do the entire thing.

The result?

OS (operation system, aka Windows 7)  done and spiffed up in the same day, with no  help from brother dearest, aside from his nagging for me  to take the furball on a walk. I swear, I could've strangled the  bastard for that idiocy of his.   I  dislike being interrupted when I work, and  he  did just that.

Windows 7 was successfully installed -   there was some trouble with booting the entire thing I I experienced the moment of enlightenment  when the program practically pointed out that MB is less than GB -  fuck it, I never paid enough attention to those prefixes when in Physics class, but never mind, I got by without knowing that.  Formatted both plates,  and then,  ran the whole thing. 

I use around 11 programs, and  the list helped me to keep on track what I need, so the  uploading of the programs went fast from here on. I still remember the horror days when   I and my brother had to get 2 whole days  to  get  the  now prehistoric XP working on the  main computer.  I am so grateful for the SSD disk and  the better  uploading routines that it's not even funny.

But the  disk in question nearly ganked me into an early grave with  the  amount of space it  gobbled up. Usually,  that wouldn't have been a problem, but  SSD is still relatively small in comparison with their  older brothers, so the space is  real  problem   if you  have  heap-loads of data.  It doesn't help that  the computer  has to be updated, and updates  for Windows and Office can really  gobble up the space.

I solved that with wiping out the personal data on the computer,  and  leaving on the SSD only the OS and some  bits and ends that  I don't  need  at all times.  So  right now,   the programs take  a little bit more than 33 GB, with  additional compressing of the files already on.  This leaves 25,2 GB  of freedom for the  next... say,  two or three years.  Depends on the tech.

Tip:

It's good to have   two things when you are doing that.  Or better,  two programs.  One of those is Driver Booster.    This little program,  especially pro edition, is dead useful when it comes to updating the host of the other programs on the OS. I am not  a fan of manual updating of the things  as they can take a good  amount of time that could be spent -  at least for me -  reading - so when I found this one, it was a godsend.


Second one is TreeSize  Free.  It  shows  where  your system  got too fat, so to speak, and then you can go to the why's and how's on slimming those files down.  But   do be careful with that  process, so that you don't do any oopsies with deleting something vitally important to the system. So double and triple checking is more than advisable in this case.


... that  brother of mine  just said I remind him of a popcorn.   Heat it enough, and it explodes.  Gee, what a charmer.... /deadpans/   Popcorn, of all things....