It’s late, and I’m moved to write of random things.
1. Christian Louboutin, if I ever liked your shoes (which I did, at a distance, on Oprah’s feet), I do not now. I realize that neither you personally nor your company are responsible for the gajillion spam comments someone makes in your name, but it’s been YEARS now, and they’re still coming, no matter how I block or dodge.
2. Google +, I’m almost convinced for this reason alone: my chones circle. You know what chones are, right? They’re underwear. My chones circle is comprised of people in front of whom I don’t mind if my underwear shows, friends who would tell me I had toilet paper stuck to the bottom of my shoe and then laugh with, not at, me. THOSE people. (Okay, they might laugh at me.) You have them in your life. They’re ones you can wail to without worrying you won’t look professional. See, Twitter used to be that for me, but then I got all writer-ly and now I have to make sure I spell things right and sit up straight and always wear my seat belt (not that I don’t always wear it — I do — it’s a compulsion, actually. But you know what I mean).
(Of course, last night I took an Ambien before bed and OH GOD, I ended up Ambien-tweeting! Don’t look now, because I deleted the incriminating tweets WHEN THEY WERE POINTED OUT TO ME, but I was sending love sonnets to Armistead Maupin via tweet (which he deserves because he’s awesome but OH GOD). I could not make this up. And I posted a picture of my nightstand because I thought it was GORGEOUS. Please keep the phone away from me when I’m on Ambien. See? If I’d posted things like that to the chones circle, I wouldn’t be dying of embarrassment now.)
3. Facebook – Meh. I’m still there, on the author page (but without friends because I got rid of the personal page) and I find it cold there now. I thought I’d like it more, just being A Writer, but apparently as much as I kvetched about it, I did like seeing what my high-school acquaintances were doing with their Sunday afternoons. I didn’t know that once that ability was gone I’d miss it. That’s a surprise.
4. The lion shall lie down with the lamb.
I think it’s funny Sir Digit and Clara both somehow know they’re mine, and they get along, mostly ignoring each other. As Digit gets crankier by the day, he gets more irritated with everything that draws breath, and lives to chase poor Clementine into corners just to hulk over her, making her shake with terror. But Clara? They live and let live. And hang out in my office.
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