Oh, hello again, blogosphere!
(Katie spends several minutes contemplating the term "blogosphere" and its sister sufferers, other bastard children sprung from stops along the information super-highway: Twitterverse, to Google, Myspace picture, to Facebook, and *shudder* e-vite. Unprofitable digression.)
You guessed it: This is yet another late-night-and-Gertrude-Hawk-smidgen-(yeah, I said it)-fueled attempt to make the internet work for me. With the advent of my royal purple netbook in my life, I feel like I can take on anything, Monopoly City Streets notwithstanding. (Dude--that game is kicking my ass!) It means more time engaged in active work, less time spent adjusting the network of rubber bands holding the power cord in place. It means increased mobility, less dependence on others for help, a new perspective on my own capabilities; really, it means a new lease on my intellectual life.
Is it just me, or is this starting to sound like a Rascal scooter commercial? My favorite is the one where the child rides circles around his grandmother on his little red tricycle: "You're motorized and I'm still faster than you, Murder She Wrote!"
My advice to you upon entering my little consciousness-awareness project?
1. Check your expectations. Things not to expect from me: Politics, except as an off-handed joke, religion, potty humor, anything from the news or world events. Things you might possibly expect: Sports enthusiasm, poems, photographs, nostalgia, ranting stories from Lotion Land (Seriously, lady? Every coupon you've ever gotten from anyone anywhere ever has a start date in addition to an end date. Cross my heart.), Homestar Runner/The Office references, questions to which I really want answers, arts and crafts homework... The list is fairly limitless, in other words.
2. Shop early, shop often.
3. Don't ask me any questions to which you don't actually want to know my answers. The only ego I'm interested in protecting is my own; also Skippy's, but to a lesser extent.
4. Bring a friend. And a bottle of wine. It's a party.
And you're...*shudder*...e-vited.
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