Just for today, it's OK if I take three hours to figure out how to blog. I'm only human.

I can no longer hide behind the unlived life of the dial-up user.

My last excuse for staring out into space in a sugar coma has vanished like the dust of yore (is that even word?...who cares).

I now must venture forth into the world or be on the Internet
There is no in between.
I must surf, or surf not
There is no try.

I must suffer the Starbuck's eggnog latte hangover, or stay sane
healthy, boring.

I must fill my life with trips to the mall, dry cleaner, and eye brow lady
Or I must feel the pain

Such is life.

Oh, cable modem.

How you change those you touch.

I'm certain there are better ways to spend my time than sweating over blog software, and yet, I'm like a rat who learned that she needed to be tortured by computers in order to eat. Except Pavlov never found a rat as masochistic as I am. Someone, call the paramedics!

Just for today, I'm OK when things don't work.....#$&$%@%...right.

Please feel free to comment on the travesty of my life.

I had a dream last night that I left an iron on my computer and my computer had melted into a mass of molten plastic. The rest of my dream was spent crying about the loss of this precious object. I woke up and was euphoric that my computer was still safe and healthy. Do I have an inordinate attachment to this doorway to life? I think so. Unlike kids or pets, my computer doesn't urinate on my couch or require a babysitter when I'm not around. Is this a healthy attachment for a childless woman in her 30's?

Just for today, I can let go a little of technology (cuz I'm getting weird).

My computer likes to remind me of the state of economy. How does my computer do this? Does it read the news reports? No, it just threatens to implode before I can get a job and save the money to buy a new one.

It's always just when I'm cruising along with my book, jetting out a stream of not-so-coherent-seeming-brilliance-for-the-moment, and thinking, "what do I need a job for?" when it suddenly shuts down. Black screen. Not even a warning, "battery is low" sign! Why? Because the batter is dead. It's five years old, which is like a hundred in human years. I can't even watch Netflix on demand because it's "pre-intel" (whatever that means)! And then I'm reminded "Oh yes, I don't have three grand in the bank to drop on a new apple!"

I'm not saying that this unemployment run is going to last forever (although, apparently, I am embarking on this experiment), but it's when the fabric of your life starts to wear thin, that I wonder if this recession will test my theory that all it takes is five years for a person to move from "chic" to "geek."

Just for today, I can send my computer warm waves of love and ask it to please not die.

So, at what point did the Internet go from being the Wild West, to Big Brother's direct entree into our every move? Suddenly, I'm thoroughly creeped out of being online. Google, Facebook, any site I ever visited...they are following me around like a really undercover stalker. It may not help anything, but I'm going to abstain from going anywhere that has the word "Google" related to it, and I don't know what I'm going to do about Facebook. I hate to miss out on the sleeping habits of the toddlers of that distant college acquaintance.

It's one thing for me to spew out my inner-thoughts, and quite another to have people studying my spending needs without my permission. I prefer to inappropriately over-share my dirty laundry, by conscious choice, in person, or in my blog, as that ensures that I have control of this Diarrhea of The Mouth problem that II was born with. I don't want to send an email thinking it's private, and know that the FB, or the FBI could be surveilling to make sure I don't mention anything about what type of plane ticket I'm buying.

If I've learned anything from eight years of blogging it's that nobody cares about what you have to say if you want everyone to know it. It's the secrets that suck the vampires in. Even if that secret is that you have created "Journey" radio on Pandora, or harbor a mad hope that Eric from "True Blood" will walk into your life. But when you write endless drivel about all your thoughts and feelings...nobody gives a $#*& rat's.

When Luke Skywalker said, "I'm not afraid!" Yoda said, "You will be. You will be." I had nightmares about him for weeks, and months.

Yes, Creepy Yoda, I used to think the Internet was the free wild west where I could hide behind my free wheeling blog, but now...?

Just for today, I'm afraid.