God, I just found emails in my "Draft" folder that I wrote in December! Apparently, I didn't hit "Send" on them, so they've been sitting in there all this time! So I've been wondering why my friends haven't written back to me - ha! ha! ha! Maybe it's because they never receive my emails in the first place.
I wonder if there's an alternative email program that works with the Firefox browser? I'd like to find one that offers a split-screen viewer for email, and allows you to download all your email to your hard drive (just like when we had dial-up). Anyone know if such a thing exists?
Enough daydreaming of pretend software. I'd better get busy and send those draft emails from months ago!
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Natural Selection - A Remembrance
I used to have an acquaintance who insisted that "Life is only what you make of it, darling." She was a cruel woman; she knew the only thing I was really good at was making a mess. Sarcasm flowed from her the way lava flowed from a volcano - just a natural, inevitable, dangerous thing. She was so talented that most people never saw her zingers coming, although some of them did catch on several hours later. By then she was safely gone, of course, which I assume is the reason she's managed to survive this long.
I was going to say I miss her, but I've changed my mind. I think I'm okay with her absence. My friends now are wonderfully supportive and that's a great thing. With their support, I've learned that I do have a few talents, and I'm not afraid to try things even when it's a pretty sure bet I won't succeed the first time. Failure can be enlightening.
My life may be a study in unnatural selection, but it works for me.
I was going to say I miss her, but I've changed my mind. I think I'm okay with her absence. My friends now are wonderfully supportive and that's a great thing. With their support, I've learned that I do have a few talents, and I'm not afraid to try things even when it's a pretty sure bet I won't succeed the first time. Failure can be enlightening.
My life may be a study in unnatural selection, but it works for me.
Friday, March 26, 2010
MY POLITICAL RANTING
After the health care reform vote, Sarah Palin told supporters, "Don't Retreat—Reload," and then targeted the members of Congress she considered to be politically vulnerable.
Palin is the worst kind of paper tiger – she has never served her country in battle, yet she’s the first to call for violence. This is a woman who shoots animals from a helicopter, in order to eliminate risk to herself, and she has the gall to call it sport hunting. She minimizes the effects of her actions on others and dismisses the consequences of her ill-considered comments.
Now Republican Party leaders are encouraging bigotry, racism, and violence against members of Congress who voted in favor of the health reform bill. These are NOT isolated incidents; this behavior is being deliberately incited.
Remember when Republicans lost the election? Instead of congratulating the new president, they accused him of not being a US citizen. Do you really think that would have happened if he hadn’t been black? Of course not.
The Republican Party claims it protects the rights of individuals; in fact, it protects the interests of big corporations and big money at the expense of individuals and small business. And although it’s true that Democrats do tax and spend, it’s also true that Republicans borrow and spend. The spending continues, it just goes to other things. Republicans may roll back our taxes a little, but our deficit goes up a lot.
It's time for people to stop listening to the baloney and start looking at what our representatives are actually DOING. Today a Republican moved to block benefits to the jobless. Does that sound like he's interested in the people? No, he's representing big business. How can we convince the people in this country to wake up, stop watching Fox News, and find the facts for themselves?
Okay, I'm through ranting now. Thanks.
Palin is the worst kind of paper tiger – she has never served her country in battle, yet she’s the first to call for violence. This is a woman who shoots animals from a helicopter, in order to eliminate risk to herself, and she has the gall to call it sport hunting. She minimizes the effects of her actions on others and dismisses the consequences of her ill-considered comments.
Now Republican Party leaders are encouraging bigotry, racism, and violence against members of Congress who voted in favor of the health reform bill. These are NOT isolated incidents; this behavior is being deliberately incited.
Remember when Republicans lost the election? Instead of congratulating the new president, they accused him of not being a US citizen. Do you really think that would have happened if he hadn’t been black? Of course not.
The Republican Party claims it protects the rights of individuals; in fact, it protects the interests of big corporations and big money at the expense of individuals and small business. And although it’s true that Democrats do tax and spend, it’s also true that Republicans borrow and spend. The spending continues, it just goes to other things. Republicans may roll back our taxes a little, but our deficit goes up a lot.
It's time for people to stop listening to the baloney and start looking at what our representatives are actually DOING. Today a Republican moved to block benefits to the jobless. Does that sound like he's interested in the people? No, he's representing big business. How can we convince the people in this country to wake up, stop watching Fox News, and find the facts for themselves?
Okay, I'm through ranting now. Thanks.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
BACK AT LAST - STARTING 2010 A BIT LATE!
Well, this year has started off at a lively pace. Everything has been happening so fast that today is the first opportunity I've had to get back to my blog since December. That's pretty sad for a writer.
I just overheard - okay, I was shamelessly eavesdropping on - a conversation between two strangers who were discussing writer's block and it was everything I could to keep from interrupting them to ask what it's like to have this alleged "writer's block" I keep hearing about. Is it real? I've never had it. I've never even had the opportunity to have it!
My day consists of a very long series of endless interruptions, punctuated by tiny bits of writing. I'm lucky if I get to finish a whole sentence; an entire paragraph is out of the question. Between our pets, the merciless telephone, and the pesky responsibilities of adulthood, the day is gone before I know it. Here, let me give you an example of my typical day:
Until I have coffee, I am not actually alive. I inhale two cups the second it's brewed; then I can eat some breakfast, take my meds, and start prying my eyes open. My third cup of coffee accompanies me outside as I take my beloved, elderly Rottweiler, Splendid Glory, on her morning constitutional. We come back inside and she gets a drink of water, then immediately goes back to bed for her morning nap. (I did mention she was old, right?) I shower and dress, feed the cats, and get settled at my desk to start writing.
As soon as I sit down to write, Splendid appears at my elbow to remind me that she is desperate for breakfast. Mortified that I haven't fed her yet (because she's been asleep), I promptly get up and feed her, usually apologizing about 35 times before getting her bowl in front of her. Then I sit back down at the desk and begin to write. At that point, a fight usually breaks out in the bedroom. I can tell it's a fight because of the horrible language the cats are using. I hobble back there, threatening them all the way. Sometimes they stop fighting before I get all the way back there, which is great for me, as I can return to my desk. Other times, I have to go all the way back there, grab the perpetrator, and sentence him to time-out in the dreaded "dungeon" room; i.e., the bathroom, for 20 blissful minutes (blissful for me, that is).
I return to my desk and begin writing. While working through a phrase, I hear a distinct "click-click-click" not unlike the sounds made by the dinosaurs' claws on the tile floor in JURASSIC PARK. The noise jolts me out of my concentration and tickles my brain until I get up to see what the heck it is. It turns out to be Splendid - she's dreaming about running, apparently, because she's fast asleep, with all four paws wiggling wildly, her nails clicking against the plastic of her bed. Instead of being annoyed, I stand there grinning like an idiot because she looks so adorable. Finally, I acknowledge that I will never have a video camera if I don't get busy and write something that will sell, so I return to my desk.
You get the idea - it continues like this until Jim gets home, at which point any hope of writing is dashed like an egg dropped on a rock. So maybe tomorrow. . . .
I just overheard - okay, I was shamelessly eavesdropping on - a conversation between two strangers who were discussing writer's block and it was everything I could to keep from interrupting them to ask what it's like to have this alleged "writer's block" I keep hearing about. Is it real? I've never had it. I've never even had the opportunity to have it!
My day consists of a very long series of endless interruptions, punctuated by tiny bits of writing. I'm lucky if I get to finish a whole sentence; an entire paragraph is out of the question. Between our pets, the merciless telephone, and the pesky responsibilities of adulthood, the day is gone before I know it. Here, let me give you an example of my typical day:
Until I have coffee, I am not actually alive. I inhale two cups the second it's brewed; then I can eat some breakfast, take my meds, and start prying my eyes open. My third cup of coffee accompanies me outside as I take my beloved, elderly Rottweiler, Splendid Glory, on her morning constitutional. We come back inside and she gets a drink of water, then immediately goes back to bed for her morning nap. (I did mention she was old, right?) I shower and dress, feed the cats, and get settled at my desk to start writing.
As soon as I sit down to write, Splendid appears at my elbow to remind me that she is desperate for breakfast. Mortified that I haven't fed her yet (because she's been asleep), I promptly get up and feed her, usually apologizing about 35 times before getting her bowl in front of her. Then I sit back down at the desk and begin to write. At that point, a fight usually breaks out in the bedroom. I can tell it's a fight because of the horrible language the cats are using. I hobble back there, threatening them all the way. Sometimes they stop fighting before I get all the way back there, which is great for me, as I can return to my desk. Other times, I have to go all the way back there, grab the perpetrator, and sentence him to time-out in the dreaded "dungeon" room; i.e., the bathroom, for 20 blissful minutes (blissful for me, that is).
I return to my desk and begin writing. While working through a phrase, I hear a distinct "click-click-click" not unlike the sounds made by the dinosaurs' claws on the tile floor in JURASSIC PARK. The noise jolts me out of my concentration and tickles my brain until I get up to see what the heck it is. It turns out to be Splendid - she's dreaming about running, apparently, because she's fast asleep, with all four paws wiggling wildly, her nails clicking against the plastic of her bed. Instead of being annoyed, I stand there grinning like an idiot because she looks so adorable. Finally, I acknowledge that I will never have a video camera if I don't get busy and write something that will sell, so I return to my desk.
You get the idea - it continues like this until Jim gets home, at which point any hope of writing is dashed like an egg dropped on a rock. So maybe tomorrow. . . .
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