Sweet Dell, You've Been Good to Me

Yesterday, my computer crashed for the third time in as many years. I've had it since Christmas of '01, and the poor thing has been limping for a while now. At the moment, it appears to be in a sort of computer coma -- there are signs of life, but it can't quite do anything. I have friends who have put in long hours resuscitating it in the past, and this time I think rather than bother them again I'll take the plunge and get a new one. Big investment for little me.

And this time, I'm thinking: Laptop! I have daydreams about writing for this blog as I sit in coffee shops. Or let's face it, for me it will be a sub shop, and I'll have to wipe the off the grease from my onion rings before typing a sentence. That's OK. Coffee shops are for poets and novelists. I don't have the attention span to write a novel, and you all have seen my poetry. Truck-driving ducks? Pass the ketchup, please.

I'm also looking forward to eavesdropping on the conversations of the people around me and putting what they say into what I write. You know, for authenticity. Otherwise I'm just left coming up with my own jokes, and who knows how quickly that well will run dry. Best to start plagiarizing and quoting without permission now.

I haven't even chosen a new machine yet, and I'm already looking toward the next big purchase: perhaps a digital camera! I'm not much of a photographer, but I'm rethinking my original desire not to put any pictures on my blog. As Marquioni noted in one of his comments, he only knows me through the characters I type. When I started this, I quite liked the idea of creating a face made only of words, so that people's views of me weren't filtered through anything visual. But let's be honest, those who know me already know what I look like, and those who don't are dying to know what I look like, aren't you? It's OK, you don't have to admit it here. Holly knows.

And speaking of knowing me through my words, I managed to be surprised at the response I got (some of them outside this blog) to that post about salt and blood. Even though I'm the one who wrote it, sometimes I can be like a naive girl, not entirely aware of the effect she's having on those around her. It appears the verdict is in, though: Writing about salty, blood-tasting lips is, indeed, hot. Thanks for the feedback, fellas. If this blog weren't already pink, it would blush.