Remembering odd things about the Fire
It is weird some days I just remember odd things about the fire or about things I am missing from the fire or it just hits me BAM like a ton of bricks that my pets are gone.
Like today I went in search of Final Draft, and I thought I had it on my computer but I think it was a demo version and I think it was on the computer that melted.
And like the other day, I was thinking I should send out some of my writing samples to some editors and work on getting something published, and then I remember, OH YEAH I would have to RETYPE in all my stories because the final thesis copies ALL perished in the fire on my Melted Computer. When I had my short fiction thesis printed (you have to have it printed in hardbound) I had a copy printed for myself. That is all I have left. And that is pretty badly scorched. So I try to read through it, but the black ends up on my hands and the smell soon becomes overwhelming. I put the book down thinking I should really just try to start typing just one story in. Then I think I should just start writing something else. Soon I am overwhelmed and I decide to just watch TV. Much easier to do.
Then this white water raft ride down my stream of consciousness takes me to remember the first story I ever wrote, back in the day of typewriters. I had one copy in my bag that I had meant to go make another copy of, but I had forgotten. And it was in my bag that night, that night I was mugged on the corner of my street where I lived in Brooklyn Heights, NY. I was the first stop on the A train outside of New York City. It was a safe neighborhood and I was walking home with my friend, who was mugged with me. I lost that only copy of the only story I had ever written. It seems to be a theme in my life. Backing up ONLY works if the back-up is left in a place different than the original!! Minor detail that I doubt ANYONE (even me today) does.
Then last night I was talking about Alaska, and remembering my trip there. I remember a great photo I took with one of those disposable pararama cameras and I go in search of it, forgetting that all my photo albums and photos are in a stack in a plastic tote because all the albums (not the pictures) were so scorched that I had to toss them. (Well some of the photos were completely lost and some pretty badly burned, but 95% are in great shape.)
I had 21 photo albums really good 3-ring binders with great hard pages (not like those floppy plastic pages). The whole tote smells like charcoal. Then I start touching the pages and soon my hands are covered in it. I think I really need to scan these, I really need to get more albums...then I think... at about 20 dollars each thats $400, don't have that. Okay nevermind. I wash my hands of the charcoal and change my clothes, everything gets that black stuff on it. You cannot throw everything out, like my dictionary all the edges of the book are smudged in black. So when you look up a word, afterwards you have to wash your hands. But The Book is in Tact, how can I throw out a book when I cannot afford to replace it when its perfectly useable. I used to look up words all the time, and now... I use the internet more... although it seems different somehow...
But then everything is different now. Isn't it.