What I actually set out to write about before I had that little epiphany was that sometimes when I sit down to write, I have no farking idea what is going to come out of my fingers. Roughly sixty five percent of the time when I am ready to blog, I know what my subject is going to be and other than some editing, the post comes out as one 'piece', if you will *looks at that suspiciously, wondering if it sounds as pretentious as it looks* *nods* *grins cuz I said piece* WHOLE.
The other thirty five percent of the time? No clue. You know that old saying that life imitates art? (Not that this is, by any stretch of the imagination, art, but indulge me for the sake of argument here, okay?) Well, in this case, art is imitating LIFE. As in-I let my fingers do the walking. *titters* *pauses for a long moment to let that sink in* *imagines Innocent Bystander's fingers doing the walking* *shakes self and sternly warns self of impending bitchslap* Yep. Thirty five percent of the time when I sit down in front of this here computer I haven't the foggiest idea what I am going to write about, but once my fingers are positioned on the keyboard, they seem to take on a life of their own. *snort* Again-art imitates life.
Oh, crap on a stick. I just heard a phrase that can either fill me with dread or make my heart sing, depending. "You've got mail." I just peeked, and in this case, it is most definitely dread. You know what I'm talking about, because we all have that one friend or relative (by marriage, of course) who inundates our inboxes with every single piece of drivel in theirs. I love getting email. Love it, love it, love it. But THIRTY SIX emails with a picture of a kitty or some flowers saying "have a nice day-OH, and forward this to all of YOUR friends or your hair will fall out" or the new Obama jokes that seem to be all the rage amongst rednecks? *shakes head* I can do without those. What really pisses me off about them though, is that I HAVE to open them, because the person in question is famous for sticking in a little personal note that demands a response, so I can't just delete them. I guess I'd better just hush and go start on them, because once she gets on a roll, there is no telling when it will stop. It's okay, though. Every once in a while, I get a 'real' email-a notification of one of your comments-those are the ones that make my heart burst into song! *SMOOCHES*
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