Camera and Photos

Things you shouldn't do with your mother's camera:

• Delete any photos
• Format her memory card without permission
• Call her after you formatted her memory card

I took a whole bunch of pictures on my mother's camera on Friday, and I wanted to upload them all onto the computer on Saturday (after the post "Chick Magnet"). So I sat down, plugged in the Compact Flash card reader, and uploaded my photos, deleting them via the computer during the process. However, when I went to take more pictures, the camera, despite my having deleted photos, refused to take more than about five. 

I went to the internet to solve this problem of not having any room on the card (although I knew I could fit another 1000 photos on there). I found a whole bunch of sites that gave me card care instructions, and some of the advice on how to fix my problem. The common suggestion was to "Format" the card.

Now, when I think "format" I think "organization". I don't speak computer; how was I suppose to know format means delete? I found the option on the camera, and scrolled down to the format option, and hit it. I really should have done some more research on that formatting thing. 

When I realized what I had done- deleted every single photo of the whole year (including Easter, mine and other sibling's birthdays and girls camp)- I had the distinct feeling of "Oh crap." (Well, my mind generated a bit more colorful language, but you get the gist, right?). I turned off the camera and immediately scoured the internet for retrieval tactics.

I found a program online, but wasn't sure if I should download it or not, or if it would even work. So, I ran over to the phone and dialed my mother up. I relayed to her that I had formatted her camera (thankfully, she didn't blow up at me), and asked if she knew how to get the photos back. She didn't, and she didn't think I'd be getting them back. I told her I found something online, and she said "good luck".

Thankfully, the program I used worked, although it took a few tormenting hours to retrieve everything off the card. I ended up paying $25 dollars from my pocket for the program to restore the photos, but I was so relieved to get the photos back that I didn't care. Now the photos are backed up on two computers; hopefully we won't have a repeat of that incident.

On a different note, I've been taking all sorts of photos! Here are a few:

The coolest tree on campus

My reflection in a window

These bees always hang out around the Monte Cristo building

Isn't it pretty? 

Thanks for reading :) See you next time. 

"Chick Magnet"

Today I was pulled into helping my little sister, Emma, and her friend, Anne, sell chocolate bars at Walmart for about half an hour (until I was relieved by my other little sister, Callie). I really hate selling chocolate bars; every field trip for school I've gone on since sixth grade, I've had to sell chocolate bars for money. Now, it definitely is not unprofitable to fundraise via selling chocolate bars outside stores; in fact, one can make around $400-600 in a six hour day. But it puts me in a grumpy, miserable mood--I hate dealing with people and trying to get them to buy something. One thing I am not going to be when I grow up is a saleswoman.

Anyways, I digress. I was sitting next to Anne in a camp chair, and this man, probably around his mid twenties, comes walking towards the entrance with a teeny, fluffy black dog trotting along next to him. We watched as three women, all with carts full of groceries, came out of Walmart just as he was about to turn, and immediately you could hear the coos of "Oh, it's so cute!" coming from them as they abandoned their carts to just crowd around this dude and his dog.

By this time I was just cracking up while they fawned over the dog; one of them even picked it up as the guy just stood there. One of them commented to the guy that he was walking around with a chick magnet; I just laughed some more. They finally set the dog down, and the poor thing tucked itself between the guy's feet, back to the women. The women finally went back to their carts and walked off, leaving the guy alone to attempt to get his puppy to go inside of the building; the poor thing was only eight weeks old, and I think it had a bit of a scare. It was really cute though. And I'm not a dog person.