Last Wednesday (barely two days ago), my laptop crashed. I thought I was done with blue screens of death (in this case, a gray screen of death with the Apple logo and a revolving worm) when I made the switch to Mac three years ago. Apparently, it only took two years longer.

Still, I’m grateful. Most of my files were backed up in an external hard drive (which is getting fuller and fuller), so I was able to save most. Problem was: we had a report on Thursday, I was editing the video, and latest edits and files weren’t backed up. Thank God my initial edits were in my EHD and my groupmates were very understanding.

Francis accompanied me to Greenbelt to have it checked. I think Kuya from the Apple Customer Service Center took pity on me. My head was laid down on the table as I silently coaxed my hard drive to work. Alas, it didn’t heed me. The whole time, I kept telling Francis, “I won’t cry, I don’t feel like crying.” But when Kuya finally sent me out to buy a new hard drive, I could feel the tears. I’m such a crybaby – so pathetic.

But you see, though I wouldn’t go so far as to say my whole life was stored in that hard drive, I’d say a pretty big part of me grew with it. It was a witness to my ever-changing tastes in music, and loyalty to shows. To my abuses in editing videos and photos. To my vanity, mess, and random obsessive-compulsiveness. It was a witness to who I am.

And it crashed and burned, and I couldn’t do anything about it.

Now, my Ethan 2.5 (Kuya kindly named the new drive Ethan again after he saw my old one) is so empty, it extends to me. I have to download stuff again, and re-fill my iTunes (which was so damn hard to do), and make folders, customize actions, change icons – just to make it me again and not just some random factory-produced chunk of artificial intelligence.

I know it sounds petty, but I think that in an increasingly mobile and technology-driven world, the demise of your hard drive is a painful thing to go through. And that scares me on so many different levels. I don’t want to be dependent on my computer, but I find that everyday I need it more and more. Then, I realize I’m okay with that. And then it scares me. Because what if I can be erased simply by dragging me to the trash box?

I guess what saddens me is the knowledge that someday, I might look for something, not find it, and just then realize what I lost through the great hard drive crash of 2011. I’m sappy and petty that way, sue me.

Ethan 2.0 has served me faithfully for over three years, and it’s never let me down. It always came through for me in the end. It feels like I’m parting with a good friend, and I feel like it deserves some recognition.

So, goodbye, Ethan 2.0. Hello, Ethan 2.5. You have a bigger memory, but you have wider shoes to fill.