This one's for papertowlbtrfly
I know you're interested. In fact, I'm sure you've been pondering little else this week. It's been consuming your thoughts, niggling away at you and occupying that I've-been-thinking-about-it-so-much-it's-starting-to-affect-my-social-life part of your brain. Well, now I can provide closure.
I got my trivial, unimportant, nerdy, fanboy Deal or No Deal database back!
It was about midnight last night when I read a comment left on my previous entry about this most pressing of issues. This comment was left by a person who I can only assume is some sort of guardian angel of mine, pointing me in the direction of a piece of free software that I could use to try and recover files from the re-formatted hard drive. I really should have left things until the morning, but I wanted to have a quick look and see what it was all about.
Within ten minutes I'd downloaded the software, plugged the relevant hard drive into my computer via the USB sockets, and had set the program running. Straight away, literally hundreds of files started appearing in folders in front of me. None of them had recognisable names, and most of them were text files full of gibberish. But in amongst all of that I saw a lone OpenOffice file. I opened it up and was amazed to see a document I recognised.
I was too excited to be thinking about sleeping right now, even though the screen was telling me that the process still had about four hours to run. More and more files were appearing before me and, at precisely 1.06am, a spreadsheet of about the size I was looking for popped up on screen. I opened this spreadsheet up and there it was! The database I've spent nearly seven years adding to just about every day. The database that contains the order that every single amount was revealed in 2000 broadcast games of Deal or No Deal, and each of the offers that were made. The database I thought I'd lost for ever!
It was probably about 4am by the time I got to sleep, just as the recovery program was finishing up its work. But I was genuinely too excited to see these pages of numbers again that I didn't care about my sleeping patterns. I pity the person who doesn't have a sleepness night over data.
So, today I got to add the details of Calvert's game at the end of a full and complete database once more. It felt good too, despite the fact that his sensible acceptance of £7500 turned out, with hindsight, to have been ill-timed.
I got my trivial, unimportant, nerdy, fanboy Deal or No Deal database back!
It was about midnight last night when I read a comment left on my previous entry about this most pressing of issues. This comment was left by a person who I can only assume is some sort of guardian angel of mine, pointing me in the direction of a piece of free software that I could use to try and recover files from the re-formatted hard drive. I really should have left things until the morning, but I wanted to have a quick look and see what it was all about.
Within ten minutes I'd downloaded the software, plugged the relevant hard drive into my computer via the USB sockets, and had set the program running. Straight away, literally hundreds of files started appearing in folders in front of me. None of them had recognisable names, and most of them were text files full of gibberish. But in amongst all of that I saw a lone OpenOffice file. I opened it up and was amazed to see a document I recognised.
I was too excited to be thinking about sleeping right now, even though the screen was telling me that the process still had about four hours to run. More and more files were appearing before me and, at precisely 1.06am, a spreadsheet of about the size I was looking for popped up on screen. I opened this spreadsheet up and there it was! The database I've spent nearly seven years adding to just about every day. The database that contains the order that every single amount was revealed in 2000 broadcast games of Deal or No Deal, and each of the offers that were made. The database I thought I'd lost for ever!
It was probably about 4am by the time I got to sleep, just as the recovery program was finishing up its work. But I was genuinely too excited to see these pages of numbers again that I didn't care about my sleeping patterns. I pity the person who doesn't have a sleepness night over data.
So, today I got to add the details of Calvert's game at the end of a full and complete database once more. It felt good too, despite the fact that his sensible acceptance of £7500 turned out, with hindsight, to have been ill-timed.