So, in the big, huge world of computer-land, I have a vague idea of what all this RAM crap is. In the end, however, I like it and it makes my world work more swimmingly than it would without it.
Yet, in the slightly less big, and moderately less huge world of DottyWood, random access memory is more like a popcorn popper. Suddenly, without warning as to which kernel of truth or wisdom (get it? kernel?) will jump to receive attention, there it is. Too hot to touch and put away and too mobile to deal with all at once.
So goes this morning. I've thought about quotations. Lewis Carroll's been on my mind. But Emily Dickinson and Sojuourner Truth have popped up, too.
Valentine's day walked through my brain, along with feathers, glue, paper, scissors, and what a pain in the ass it is to clean up all that stuff when I'm done making those pesky Valentines.
For whatever reason, crappy songs came flapping into my head on horrifying, rubbery bat wings. I believe Rod Stewart was the culprit. He was holding the hand of Huey Lewis, however, who was dragging along his buddies "The News".
Now I'm thinking about BrilliantEditor and I agreeing to take an afternoon off. I've declared that we can't talk about work, sewing, woodworking, or fixing up the house. He agreed, so I am, therefore, not a despotic shrew. Just a cute little shrew with a wiggly nose and fuzzy pink ears. The conversation, however, becomes a problem: as BE put it, "What are we going to talk about?"
That's kind of my point. We spend so much time talking about those things, that we don't have anything else to talk about. And I want other things to talk about, dammit. I'd like to talk about things that are fluffy and meaningless. Or maybe discover what's actually meaningful and important that we've been skipping. Or maybe just stay silent for an afternoon as we realize how boring we are.
I doubt the last one very much. I've purchased water activated fireworks for just such an occasion. We can toss them out the back door and watch as the birdfeeders get blown up and the sunflower seeds pelt the windows of the house.
I do hope the windows don't get broken. We won't be able to talk about it until the next day.
Posted by dotty at February 2, 2004 11:04 AM