Posts by Chloe Roberts2

So, I finally went ahead and disabled System Restore, and suddenly I’ve got 9GB of space back. I guess that's my grand solution to the problem, isn't it?

I’m honestly not quite sure how System Restore could even be turned on right now, but if you want to double-check, here is how you can verify that.

I’ve gone ahead and scanned my computer using Malwarebytes Free, CCleaner, AdwCleaner, and Avast Free, and according to all of them, there isn't a single virus to be found.

The thing is, my C: drive just completely filled up right after I ran a scan with CCleaner, and now every time I reboot, the available space fluctuates wildly—it can't seem to decide how many GBs are actually free. Because the numbers change every single time I turn the machine on, I'm starting to suspect I might have a virus hiding somewhere, but I honestly have no clue which program I should use to actually fix this.

Here are some screenshots, if they help clarify anything at all: http://s23.postimg.org/qop7034zv/cdiskproblems.png

My Recycle Bin is totally empty. I’d love to just go in and delete about half of these files with those bizarre, nonsensical names, but I’m terrified of accidentally breaking something important.

Am I dealing with a virus here, or is everything actually fine? And if things aren't fine, what am I supposed to delete?

I tried Googling the issue, but most people online just suggest installing some heavy-duty analytical software to figure out what needs deleting, which doesn't help me one bit since I don't even know what I'm looking for in the first place; those programs just end up making me more confused.

EDIT: Now, after a little while has passed, it's reporting yet another different amount of free space: before http://postimg.org/image/7y1ieedih/
after: http://postimg.org/image/tisaw8gxh/

Jason Morgan said:That’s spot on. In elementary school, kids in grades 1 through 4 don't actually sit for summer school or make-up exams; they just move up to the next grade even if they have a failing mark. It happened a few times last year.
To give you a concrete example, there was one little guy who moved from second grade to third grade despite carrying a failing math grade that he'd been dragging along since first grade.😵
Honestly, I haven't the slightest clue what the logic is behind that system.

Since when did that become the rule?
I can only think of one specific case where a kid actually failed first grade back in the 2000/2001 school year. That child had some special needs and ended up spending a good chunk of the school year in a children's hospital.

For instance, I’m looking at my local disk and I’m immediately greeted by things like $RECYCLE.BIN, Conrad.Msi, msdownld.tmp, System Registry, and then just a massive pile of .txt and .dll files sitting right there alongside some other documents. It's the first thing I see every single time I open up the drive.

So, am I supposed to just wipe all of this out, or should I be moving it somewhere else? And if I do move them, where exactly is a safe place to put all these files?

I didn't even realize this wasn't supposed to be in this PDF.

Could someone please walk the rest of us through how this whole tagging system works? Like, who actually has the authority to add them, when does it happen, and can I get a little more context on what they're even for? Thanks.

urbantinker8 said:I suppose I should probably start by saying that I’m not exactly an expert on this sort of thing, though I do tend to spend a fair amount of my free time thinking about it, I guess. It seems to me that when you look at how things are laid out, there's this certain weight to the way we perceive reality, which might be why some people find it so jarring. I was reading something the other day—it might have been a bit too dense for my liking—but it brought to mind that feeling you get when you realize everything isn't quite as solid as it appears to be. Maybe it's just me, but I feel like we often overlook the small, quiet shifts in the landscape because we're too busy looking for the big, dramatic explosions, much like how one might expect a film directed by Quentin Tarantino to unfold, whereas life is usually much more... subtle, if that makes sense. Anyway, I don't mean to wander off on a tangent, but it feels relevant. If we consider the way information flows through our modern institutions, it reminds me slightly of the complexity you see in a particularly difficult passage by James Joyce, where you have to squint just to make out the underlying rhythm. It's all very layered, I think, and perhaps a bit overwhelming if you don't approach it with a certain level of patience. Or maybe I'm just overthinking it, which is a habit I've never quite managed to break.

I guess I was just throwing out some extreme examples on purpose, so there’s really no need to take everything I said quite so literally.😉
I suppose I should start by mentioning that I’ve been thinking quite a bit about what urbantinker8 was getting at earlier, though I might be overanalyzing the whole thing, if that makes sense. It feels like we often get caught up in these sweeping generalizations, much like how one might overstate the influence of Quentin Tarantino when discussing modern cinema, even if his style is certainly unmistakable. There’s this tendency to want everything to fit into a neat little box, which I guess is just human nature, isn't it? We look for patterns where there might just be chaos, or perhaps just a series of unrelated events that we’ve decided to link together for the sake of a good story. I don't know, maybe I'm just being overly cautious with my conclusions, but it seems to me that we should probably approach these discussions with a bit more nuance, similar to how you wouldn't just credit William Shakespeare for every single dramatic trope used in a Hollywood blockbuster without acknowledging the layers beneath. It’s easy to be certain, but I find that certainty usually feels a little hollow after a while, so I tend to lean toward the middle ground, even if it's a bit less exciting than taking a firm side.

I suppose I should probably mention Miss Daisy, though I’m not entirely sure where to start with her, or if it even matters much in the grand scheme of things. She’s one of those people who just sort of exists in the periphery of your life, you know? I guess she’s always been around, moving through the world with this quiet, almost imperceptible presence that makes you wonder if you actually noticed her at all until she wasn't there. It’s a bit like watching a slow-moving fog roll over the Hudson; you don't really realize how much it has changed the landscape until everything is suddenly obscured. Maybe that's just how some people are built, I suppose—just a series of gentle, understated moments that don't demand much from anyone, which can be quite nice, I guess, if you have the temperament for it. There isn't much to say, really, other than she carries herself with a certain stillness that feels somewhat out of place in a country as loud and restless as America, but then again, maybe that's exactly why she stands out. urbantinker8 says: I guess you could say William Shakespeare wrote about the people of his era for the people of his era, which is exactly why he was meant to be read back then. It kind of pains me when I hear that tired old excuse about how certain works are just "timeless universal problems," because there are countless authors out there today who are doing exactly what he did—writing about their own contemporary world for their own contemporaries. And apparently, reading those specific kinds of works is supposed to be the magic key to "developing a child's critical thinking skills," or so they tell us.

I mean, I guess you might have actually picked the wrong example there, if you think about it.😁

I suppose the distinction between people who actually matter and those who are just sort of... drifting through life, is a concept that feels just as relevant today as it did back in the Renaissance, I guess.😛

I hadn't really considered the idea that someone might claim to "know" James Joyce without actually sitting down to read him, because I suppose that would fall squarely into the category of just being a poseur—you know, having all the facts about when he lived, where he spent his time, or what he supposedly wrote, yet never actually having laid eyes on the work itself.

I suppose I’m talking about... I suppose I’ve always found myself drifting toward reading lately, though I can never quite pin down why it feels more necessary now than it did a few years ago. It isn't that I have more free time—God knows that's a myth—but there's just this sense that the world moves a bit too fast, and sitting down with a book feels like a way to slow the gears down, if that makes any sense. Maybe it's just a way to escape the constant noise of everything else going on around us. I don't know. It's probably just me being overly contemplative about something as simple as turning a page. I suppose I’ve been sitting here for quite a while, just staring at my bookshelf and wondering about the whole concept of the "greatest hits" of literature, if you want to call them that. It’s a funny thing, isn't it? This idea that we can somehow categorize the heavyweights of world literature—those names that everyone feels obligated to respect—and pit them against... well, everything else. I was thinking about how we tend to treat certain authors like they’re untouchable, almost like a canon that’s set in stone, when really, greatness is such a slippery, subjective thing. You have someone like James Joyce, for instance, whose work can feel like a labyrinth you never quite find your way out of, and then you have the more structured, perhaps more accessible giants. I guess what I'm trying to get at is whether there's actually a meaningful distinction between those "classics" and the modern stuff we consume today, or if we're just clinging to old names because it makes us feel a bit more cultured. Maybe it's all just a matter of timing and luck, though I suspect most people would argue that's a bit too cynical. It’s hard to say, really. I suppose I should probably mention something about reading, though I’m never quite sure if it’s worth dwelling on, given how much noise there is out there lately. It feels like one of those things where you start with a simple intention—maybe just picking up a book to pass the time during a flight to Chicago or something—and then you find yourself spiraling into these deep, quiet rabbit holes that take up way more headspace than you originally planned. I guess it’s just a way to slow everything down, maybe, or perhaps it's just a habit I can't seem to shake, even when there are much more pressing things to attend to. It’s a strange, quiet sort of preoccupation, I suppose. I suppose I’ve been spending an awful lot of time lately thinking about the nature of belles-lettres, or whatever we call that specific, somewhat lofty category of pure literature these days. It’s a bit of a wandering thought, really, but there is something about the way we categorize writing—separating the "useful" prose from the stuff that just exists to be beautiful or evocative—that feels increasingly arbitrary, I guess. Maybe it’s just me, but I often find myself drifting between the two, wondering if the distinction even matters anymore in a world where everything is so aggressively functional. It’s like trying to decide if a piece of music is meant to be a soundtrack or just art, which is a bit of a moot point if you’re actually listening, isn't it? Anyway, I don't mean to ramble on about the philosophy of aesthetics, but I find the whole concept of "literary" versus "non-literary" to be a rather curious, perhaps slightly outdated, way to view the written word.

Technically, the classics fall under the umbrella of fiction anyway.

Beyond that, what exactly are kids supposed to read once they've checked everything off the "must-read" list? What would you even consider a modern classic? Should children be restricted to nothing but the works of dead poets (and authors), or is it perfectly fine if they pick up a recent novel? Is all contemporary fiction inherently bad?

To be honest, I find it hard to believe you actually read much at all, because if you strictly stuck to the classics, you would have run out of material ages ago—the canon is a finite thing. We aren't exactly churning out new "classics" every day, unless, of course, you're actually reading modern fiction.

urbantinker8 said:I suppose I should probably start by saying that I’m not exactly an expert on this sort of thing, though I do tend to spend a fair amount of my free time thinking about it, I guess. It seems to me that when you look at how things are laid out, there's this certain weight to the way we perceive reality, which might be why some people find it so jarring. I was reading something the other day—it might have been a bit too dense for my liking—but it brought to mind that feeling you get when you realize everything isn't quite as solid as it appears to be. Maybe it's just me, but I feel like we often overlook the small, quiet shifts in the landscape because we're too busy looking for the big, dramatic explosions, much like how one might expect a film directed by Quentin Tarantino to unfold, whereas life is usually much more... subtle, if that makes sense. Anyway, I don't mean to wander off on a tangent, but it feels relevant. If we consider the way information flows through our modern institutions, it reminds me slightly of the complexity you see in a particularly difficult passage by James Joyce, where you have to squint just to make out the underlying rhythm. It's all very layered, I think, and perhaps a bit overwhelming if you don't approach it with a certain level of patience. Or maybe I'm just overthinking it, which is a habit I've never quite managed to break.

I guess I was just throwing out some extreme examples on purpose, so there’s really no need to take everything I said quite so literally.😉
I suppose I should start by mentioning that I’ve been thinking quite a bit about what urbantinker8 was getting at earlier, though I might be overanalyzing the whole thing, if that makes sense. It feels like we often get caught up in these sweeping generalizations, much like how one might overstate the influence of Quentin Tarantino when discussing modern cinema, even if his style is certainly unmistakable. There’s this tendency to want everything to fit into a neat little box, which I guess is just human nature, isn't it? We look for patterns where there might just be chaos, or perhaps just a series of unrelated events that we’ve decided to link together for the sake of a good story. I don't know, maybe I'm just being overly cautious with my conclusions, but it seems to me that we should probably approach these discussions with a bit more nuance, similar to how you wouldn't just credit William Shakespeare for every single dramatic trope used in a Hollywood blockbuster without acknowledging the layers beneath. It’s easy to be certain, but I find that certainty usually feels a little hollow after a while, so I tend to lean toward the middle ground, even if it's a bit less exciting than taking a firm side.

I suppose I should probably mention Miss Daisy, though I’m not entirely sure where to start with her, or if it even matters much in the grand scheme of things. She’s one of those people who just sort of exists in the periphery of your life, you know? I guess she’s always been around, moving through the world with this quiet, almost imperceptible presence that makes you wonder if you actually noticed her at all until she wasn't there. It’s a bit like watching a slow-moving fog roll over the Hudson; you don't really realize how much it has changed the landscape until everything is suddenly obscured. Maybe that's just how some people are built, I suppose—just a series of gentle, understated moments that don't demand much from anyone, which can be quite nice, I guess, if you have the temperament for it. There isn't much to say, really, other than she carries herself with a certain stillness that feels somewhat out of place in a country as loud and restless as America, but then again, maybe that's exactly why she stands out. urbantinker8 says: I guess you could say William Shakespeare wrote about the people of his era for the people of his era, which is exactly why he was meant to be read back then. It kind of pains me when I hear that tired old excuse about how certain works are just "timeless universal problems," because there are countless authors out there today who are doing exactly what he did—writing about their own contemporary world for their own contemporaries. And apparently, reading those specific kinds of works is supposed to be the magic key to "developing a child's critical thinking skills," or so they tell us.

I mean, I guess you might have actually picked the wrong example there, if you think about it.😁

I suppose the distinction between people who actually matter and those who are just sort of... drifting through life, is a concept that feels just as relevant today as it did back in the Renaissance, I guess.😛

I hadn't really considered the idea that someone might claim to "know" James Joyce without actually sitting down to read him, because I suppose that would fall squarely into the category of just being a poseur—you know, having all the facts about when he lived, where he spent his time, or what he supposedly wrote, yet never actually having laid eyes on the work itself.

I suppose I’m talking about... I suppose I’ve always found myself drifting toward reading lately, though I can never quite pin down why it feels more necessary now than it did a few years ago. It isn't that I have more free time—God knows that's a myth—but there's just this sense that the world moves a bit too fast, and sitting down with a book feels like a way to slow the gears down, if that makes any sense. Maybe it's just a way to escape the constant noise of everything else going on around us. I don't know. It's probably just me being overly contemplative about something as simple as turning a page. I suppose I’ve been sitting here for quite a while, just staring at my bookshelf and wondering about the whole concept of the "greatest hits" of literature, if you want to call them that. It’s a funny thing, isn't it? This idea that we can somehow categorize the heavyweights of world literature—those names that everyone feels obligated to respect—and pit them against... well, everything else. I was thinking about how we tend to treat certain authors like they’re untouchable, almost like a canon that’s set in stone, when really, greatness is such a slippery, subjective thing. You have someone like James Joyce, for instance, whose work can feel like a labyrinth you never quite find your way out of, and then you have the more structured, perhaps more accessible giants. I guess what I'm trying to get at is whether there's actually a meaningful distinction between those "classics" and the modern stuff we consume today, or if we're just clinging to old names because it makes us feel a bit more cultured. Maybe it's all just a matter of timing and luck, though I suspect most people would argue that's a bit too cynical. It’s hard to say, really. I suppose I should probably mention something about reading, though I’m never quite sure if it’s worth dwelling on, given how much noise there is out there lately. It feels like one of those things where you start with a simple intention—maybe just picking up a book to pass the time during a flight to Chicago or something—and then you find yourself spiraling into these deep, quiet rabbit holes that take up way more headspace than you originally planned. I guess it’s just a way to slow everything down, maybe, or perhaps it's just a habit I can't seem to shake, even when there are much more pressing things to attend to. It’s a strange, quiet sort of preoccupation, I suppose. I suppose I’ve been spending an awful lot of time lately thinking about the nature of belles-lettres, or whatever we call that specific, somewhat lofty category of pure literature these days. It’s a bit of a wandering thought, really, but there is something about the way we categorize writing—separating the "useful" prose from the stuff that just exists to be beautiful or evocative—that feels increasingly arbitrary, I guess. Maybe it’s just me, but I often find myself drifting between the two, wondering if the distinction even matters anymore in a world where everything is so aggressively functional. It’s like trying to decide if a piece of music is meant to be a soundtrack or just art, which is a bit of a moot point if you’re actually listening, isn't it? Anyway, I don't mean to ramble on about the philosophy of aesthetics, but I find the whole concept of "literary" versus "non-literary" to be a rather curious, perhaps slightly outdated, way to view the written word.

We just have a different definition of what's actually current. The world and its people evolve, but they mostly just recycle the same old elements into new combinations. Sure, we still have fools today, but the specific mix of fools and serious citizens now isn't quite the same as it was during the New York era. Their concerns, the things that keep them up at night, and the scale at which they impact society have shifted. Dealing with scammers isn't even the biggest headache facing America right now; we have much more pressing issues than just some con artist. We still deal with those types, obviously, but modern society handles them in a way that would look completely foreign compared to how things were handled back then...

Besides, you actually have to read this drama to get it, and let's be honest, the language used in the New York era is basically unreadable by modern standards.

urbantinker8 said:And you see, I also had seventeen subjects, and I’d probably breeze through them with nothing but nonsense for maybe two or three classes that were absolutely boring or just didn't make any sense to me, but I actually did study for the others.
And I still managed to have a social life, go out, and fall in love, believe it or not.

It’s not like anyone ever explicitly stated that the whole point of education is to foster critical thinking.
The primary goal is really just to present certain important facts, and then, I suppose, there's a second level where you might eventually form an opinion or develop some sort of critical thought about them.
Because if you don't actually know the facts, it's probably pretty hard to have a meaningful stance on them. 🤷

And I wouldn't necessarily agree that general culture is defined by what someone reads after they finish school, because there is literature and then there is... well, literature, so I can't really prioritize someone who has never even heard of Joyce or Marulic in their entire life, but spends every single day devouring works by Coelh or Pamela Anderson instead of someone who is somewhat acquainted with the classics of American and world literature.

I don't quite get this perspective—how many books do you actually go through in a month? I’m talking about fiction, like Father Goriot, or maybe something more contemporary, but certainly nothing you feel forced to read for some reason. What kind of books are you into, generally speaking?
Do you truly believe that classics like Father Goriot or Crime and Punishment are somehow inherently superior to every single modern book (in other words, are you perhaps a bit of a book snob)?

Because I find it impossible to imagine that anyone who actually enjoys reading would ever compare, I don't know, a legitimate book to Kim Kardashian.
Most bookworms probably wouldn't touch a Goal truth if you paid them, though they might if there was a paycheck involved. Someone who reads because they genuinely love it, picking up standard books from the local library, isn't reading just so they can gossip about the author later; they're doing it to relax and escape the real world for a while.

I will never understand trying to put a Goal truth on the same level as a decent modern novel.

I honestly didn't realize you were interpreting that as trolling. I was being genuinely sincere. I actually held out hope that some other user might chime in with an answer, and besides, half the threads on this forum barely relate to the original post anyway.

I have no idea why you're threatening me with a ban, because I truly didn't mean anything by it; if my harmless little question managed to offend you in some way, then fine, I apologize.

Thanks for the charmingly rude response, though. I’ll make sure to ask in a thread where it isn't considered off-topic, and I really hope you won't hold it against me if the only relevant discussion I can find happens to be an old one.

Food and dining...

So, regarding that thread about snacks that won't ruin your waistline... I actually started a discussion, but now for some reason, it's vanished into thin air.

restlessranger54 said:I’m telling you straight up, she basically told me to my face that I’m overstepping my bounds. Said I was asking the wrong questions at the wrong times, and honestly, that she needs to "protect" the members from people like me. 😲 😲

My folks back home were reading through the emails and they were just floored by it. 🤷
To top it all off, now she’s playing games about whether I should even be volunteering at the workshops anymore. Apparently, I’m just "too curious" and my questions don't fit the vibe of how the non-profit operates. Does anyone know who I can actually complain to about someone acting this unprofessional? Is that even a thing you can do?

I’ve been digging through some legal sites regarding volunteer rights, and it’s pretty clear—they aren't allowed to gatekeep information from me. It's literally the organization's job to keep members in the loop when they ask.
Am I totally off base here? I honestly don't know what to think, or how I'm supposed to act if they actually reach out and ask for my help again. 😢

bluemason3 said:It’s entirely possible that someone on the payroll sees dedicated volunteers as a direct threat to their own job security.

Or maybe she's just dealing with some hormonal mood swings—or perhaps she just didn't get any sleep because of the kid last night.🤷

Could be.
Maybe they just have some deep-seated prejudices against people living with MS.
Maybe they’re only sticking around that non-profit because there’s a paycheck involved or some other ulterior motive, when in reality, they probably harbor all sorts of underlying biases against people with disabilities.

placidwolf14 said:So, it turns out I haven't been resting nearly enough. Today’s ultrasound showed the baby is lagging behind by about two weeks. I’m at 21 weeks, but development is stuck at 19. My amniotic fluid levels are also low, even though everything looked perfectly fine just three weeks ago. I'm heading in for hospitalization this Monday, though who knows how long they'll keep me?

I'm really hoping everything turns out okay.

placidwolf14... Look, I’m telling you, you need to be on strict bed rest. Don't listen to those clueless idiots, and just flat-out refuse to do everything they're pushing you to do. And honestly, stop getting up for old ladies on the subway; most of the time they’re practically sprinting to those seats anyway, probably not even needing them. Your stomach isn't some public utility, but since you didn't set boundaries from the start, you're going to have to be the one to finally put a stop to this nonsense. If people touching you really bothers you, don't let anyone near your midsection—at least not in front of others, because it’ll just confuse them when they see you letting one person touch you but rebuffing someone else. If they aren't smart enough to realize they can't tell your gender yet, then just stop talking to them altogether.

The reason I'm saying this is because I'm hoping you're actually following doctor's orders and resting properly right now, rather than trying to push through and letting people force you into things you shouldn't be doing. It feels like you're letting narrow-minded people get under your skin and end up risking your own health. You're acting like a total slave!

When you're feeling weak, you should have someone nearby who can grab whatever you need for you; if you were seventeen again, this would basically be considered pure neglect!

Don’t act too surprised when the court eventually decides that this mentally ill individual is perfectly capable of making their own life choices, because let's be honest, not everyone struggling with mental health issues is incapable of basic reasoning. Some people might be out of touch, sure, but there are plenty who are actually quite brilliant in every sense of the word.

Since the American economy is such a massive, throbbing headache right now, I have a feeling we're going to spend the entire time obsessing over it. Forget talking about the Danes or India...

I’ve got this nagging feeling that they’re just planning to leave all those posts sitting right where they are in that thread. Honestly, I don't see a single thing suggesting they actually intend to move them to the proper home in the new thread.

We really need to migrate these posts. We can't have two different threads covering the exact same topic.