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technology

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Waiting on Hemingway

23rd August 2011

As I admitted in a previous post, I fried my laptop.  Again. I was all ready to cash in my coffee insurance, and was even a little proud of myself that I managed to do THE EXACT SAME THING a second time.  I was racking up crazy writer points.  To go with my Post-It notes and pens and frizzy hair.  Or something. I had come to terms with the fact that my machine would stay fried, again.  I might have…

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Grandma Lied. Coasters Are Bad.

17th August 2011

And so, I am on my way home from work, with a blog post or two playing around in my head. I get home and I am all set to write.  Actually can’t wait.  My PA makes me a coffee before she leaves, and the cursor is blinking expectantly on the screen, ready for my words.  My fingers reach for the keys. And my phone rings.  I talk to my Dad, listening while my own sentences run through my head. …

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You Look Happy, Were You Drunk?

25th November 2010

The American in me wants to have pumpkin pie later on today and cold turkey sandwiches tomorrow. I am the kind of person who believes thanks aren’t just for Thanksgiving.  But in the spirit of the day, I’m going to share what I am thankful for this year. My list every year is quite simple.  It doesn’t take much to make me happy, and I’m appreciative of what I have every day of the year. That being said, these things…

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Switch Off to Switch On

14th October 2010

Remember when I said I couldn’t write in clutter?  Well, I’ll add to it.  I now believe the people who tell you not to write on a computer connected to the Internet.  Because writing doesn’t happen.  Facebook happens. I used to say I couldn’t write without music on, either.  Now when music is on, I can’t hear myself.  I get so caught up in the next song, and then the next one, I forget the next word and then they…

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Your call is not important to us, please hang up.

16th September 2010

You know what I hate?  Using my credit card over the phone.  Or putting any number longer than a local or international number into a phone.  Because that requires entering the number in before the automated voice says:  I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that, try again.  Well, of course you didn’t catch that.  It wasn’t a ball.  Or my shoe, hurtling towards your head.  You don’t even have a head.  You are a machine.  May I speak to a real…

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