So there I am, an arm's length from the dirty shoe of Brian Sella, the lead vocalist of The Front Bottoms.

I have my phone in my right hand and every now and then, when I'm not singing and dancing along, I'm recording short Snapchat videos and saving them onto my phone. Up until this moment, I've never had a more cathartic experience than hearing live the songs that got me through some pretty dramatic times in my life. It's something I wish everyone could experience, but that's not what this article is about. No. This article is about the pop-up message I got three quarters into the show that absolutely wrecked me, and made me really think about what role technology plays in my life.

Realizing there was nothing I could do about the message at the show, and that my chances of getting any more recordings were over for the night, I tucked my phone into my back pocket then went back to having the time of my life.

When I got back from the concert, I downloaded everything from my phone onto my laptop. After, I combed through my phone, deleting pictures, text message conversations and apps that were just taking up space.

Fast forward to a couple months later. I was sitting at dinner with a couple friends, my laptop on the table in front of me. Before you can even say "Lesley, leaving your laptop on the table where people are drinking andeating is a bad idea, something bad could happen," something bad happened. One of my friends reacted to a joke and inadvertently knocked over a glass of water. The water slid across the table and under my laptop seconds before I was able to pick it up.

I had to send my baby to Apple, due to minor water damage to my control panel, but luckily I was able to save all of my academic files. All my photos, on the other hand, were lost in the accident. Without a goodbye, I lost all the photos I had saved from when I was in high school all the way up until the middle of my second semester of university. Most heartbreaking of all, though, was losing the photos from that Front Bottoms concert I was at just a couple months ago.

I keep thinking that maybe, just maybe, if I had just kept everything on a flash drive. it would be different and I would still have all my pictures to look at and enjoy whenever I pleased. But with the way the events around my laptop were already unfolding, I'd probably trip and throw the flash drive into some kind of fire or wood chipper or something.

I did learn something about myself from all of this, though: I invest way too much of my life in my electronics. But it's not just me! From babies to teen-hating Baby Boomers, we all keep more than just our pictures, conversations and Candy Crush history saved on our phones. So much of our lives float around as ones and zeros in the tiny brick we hold in our hands! (That's probably not how phones actually work, but that's how I like to think they work, so for the sake of me getting to my point, we're just going to with that.) Because of all of this, I become as protective as Horton from "Dr. Seuss' Horton Hears a Who!" (2008) when it comes to the electronic devices I own and honestly, that scares the heck out of me.

Advancements in technology have done great and wondrous things for all who accept and make the most of it, but should we trust technology to hold all we hold important? Forget losing videos of your favorite band to some water damage, think about losing your credit card information to some creep trying to buy weird things on the internet!

I pose no real solutions or suggestions. Sure, unplugging ourselves from technology every now and then is always good for reminding us of how great nature is and all that jazz, but it's close to impossible to get around in this modern world without the help of technology. Unless you're Amish. In that case, please tell me how you do it, because I don't trust those shows on TLC. But even then, unplugging won't stop the credit card information thieves.

I guess the only thing we can do, and when I say "we," I'm mostly just talking about myself, is just be mindful. Mindful of the good and the bad technology poses in our lives, mindful of the lives we maintain on our electronic devices and most importantly, mindful of the lives that carry on, even after the screens go black.

Losing those photos and videos hurt me in a way I didn't think losing a couple ones and zeros (again, I apologize if this isn't correct) could hurt me. But now, with some clarity, I am able to realize that those photos and videos existed because of my acknowledgment of the importance of documenting those specific experiences. I like to think that because of this understanding, I enjoy moments like these more organically, but let's be real, its a little more exciting to have something to post online and share with the world, am I right?