Lately I have been trying to live more, write here less--all in the hopes of experience. I find that the less time I spend online, the more I'm able to meet oddball characters, learn how to make things with me' own two hands, that sort of thing. And I am writing, not yet on paper, but in my head, which is an important first step. This step can drag on too long, and if I don't fix my computer soon, it will stop being a step and start being a dead end.
One of the many problems about modern technology is that it has allowed writers and artists to become slightly lazy, or at least picky. My father was a commercial artist, which is what graphic designers were called before computers came around. He can still design an ad with Letraset and rulers and graph paper; today, most designers would be in trouble without computers. Writers began writing with their hands, then with typewriters, and now with computers. Unfortunately, I have conditioned myself to write best when in bed with a laptop. And my rusty old laptop, in a seeming fit of prudence, insists on running only in Safe Mode. The iBook sounds better each day...
I decided to buy a Vespa scooter, and I had done all the research about it, and was ready to buy a scooter on three different occasions. But then I realized that I didn't know how to ride a scooter, and if you don't know how to do that, the fine state of Illinois won't give you a motorcycle license. So although I desperately want the baby blue Primavera 125, I must wait until next summer. But then, watch out.
The funny thing is, I fully expect a Vespa to solve all the problems in my life. Obviously, the scooter really would liberate me from the horrible CTA. And the cost of maintenance is relatively low. Yet I am placing unrealistic expectations on the little Vespa. In my little mind, Vespy (that is what the scooter would be named) will make everything a-ok. Vespy will make me the most popular lady in the city. Vespy will straighten my teeth. Vespy will lift my spirits, clean the house, and kickstart my heart. Vive Vespy!
A side note: Dissatisfied with my current job, I have decided to become a professional Croissant Quality Assurance Tester in Paris.
One of the many problems about modern technology is that it has allowed writers and artists to become slightly lazy, or at least picky. My father was a commercial artist, which is what graphic designers were called before computers came around. He can still design an ad with Letraset and rulers and graph paper; today, most designers would be in trouble without computers. Writers began writing with their hands, then with typewriters, and now with computers. Unfortunately, I have conditioned myself to write best when in bed with a laptop. And my rusty old laptop, in a seeming fit of prudence, insists on running only in Safe Mode. The iBook sounds better each day...
I decided to buy a Vespa scooter, and I had done all the research about it, and was ready to buy a scooter on three different occasions. But then I realized that I didn't know how to ride a scooter, and if you don't know how to do that, the fine state of Illinois won't give you a motorcycle license. So although I desperately want the baby blue Primavera 125, I must wait until next summer. But then, watch out.
The funny thing is, I fully expect a Vespa to solve all the problems in my life. Obviously, the scooter really would liberate me from the horrible CTA. And the cost of maintenance is relatively low. Yet I am placing unrealistic expectations on the little Vespa. In my little mind, Vespy (that is what the scooter would be named) will make everything a-ok. Vespy will make me the most popular lady in the city. Vespy will straighten my teeth. Vespy will lift my spirits, clean the house, and kickstart my heart. Vive Vespy!
A side note: Dissatisfied with my current job, I have decided to become a professional Croissant Quality Assurance Tester in Paris.
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