Writing About Someone Well Known Removes That

Sometimes, The Internet Can Feel Like A Middle-school Playground Populated By Brats In Ski Masks Who Name-call And Taunt With The Fake Bravery Of The Anonymous. But Sometimes - Thank Goodness - It's Nicer Than Real Life.

The First Thing I Think About When I Wake Up Most Mornings Is The Fact That I'm Tired. I Have Been Tired For Decades. I Am Tired In The Morning And I Am Tired While Becalmed In The Slough Of The Afternoon, And I Am Tired In The Evening, Except Right When I Try To Go To Sleep.

Recently, I Have Come To Assume That Any Call To My Landline Is From A Telemarketer Or An Automated Call From Terminex, Letting Me Know That Our Regularly Scheduled Pest-extermination Service Will Occur On Its Regular Schedule. So I Usually Ignore My Home Phone.

Winter In The Country Is Very White. There Is Black Grit On All The Shoulders Of The Roads And On The Big Mounds From The Plows, And All The Cars Are Filthy, But The Fields Are Dazzling And Untouched And Pristine.

I Heard A Computer Scientist The Other Day Refer To Playing With The Kinect As 'storytelling.' At First I Thought That Sounded A Little High-minded, But After Trying A Few Games I Could See What She Meant.