A little slow getting started
I used to be really on top of things, Internet-wise. Email through a dial-up BBS. Downloading MP3s in '95. Downloading dirty pictures on a 14.4 modem. Those were the days. Thank God they're over.
But this whole online journal / blog thing, I never got. I don't communicate. I have to do that too much at work. What is in my head stays in my head and the world is a better place for it. If I ever met anyone who could read my mind I would panic and bludgeon them to death to keep my secrets from getting out.
A couple days ago, Katte came over to my place and dyed my hair purple. I love how it turned out, but that's a different story. She is starved for Internet right now, so when I was washing my hair she pounced on my computer. (I have an old IBM keyboard, the kind that were built like a tank. When she types, it sounds like hail on a steel roof.) When we left, she didn't close the browser. The next time I sat down at my computer, I ended up reading a half year's worth of entries in several blogs.
Then I got the urge to start my own. Good Lord, I am such a me-too-er. If all my friends jumped off a bridge, so would I. Actually, I'm scared of heights, so probably not.
But this whole online journal / blog thing, I never got. I don't communicate. I have to do that too much at work. What is in my head stays in my head and the world is a better place for it. If I ever met anyone who could read my mind I would panic and bludgeon them to death to keep my secrets from getting out.
A couple days ago, Katte came over to my place and dyed my hair purple. I love how it turned out, but that's a different story. She is starved for Internet right now, so when I was washing my hair she pounced on my computer. (I have an old IBM keyboard, the kind that were built like a tank. When she types, it sounds like hail on a steel roof.) When we left, she didn't close the browser. The next time I sat down at my computer, I ended up reading a half year's worth of entries in several blogs.
Then I got the urge to start my own. Good Lord, I am such a me-too-er. If all my friends jumped off a bridge, so would I. Actually, I'm scared of heights, so probably not.