Online vs. Paper
03-27-01 ~ 10:38 a.m.
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*settles in with a chocolate marble cake that her roommate made and starts to type*
I opened up Yahoo Pager last night like I usually do, and dear lord . . . they must have opened a flood gate . . . I got all these offline messages that somehow had never been sent to me before . . . Some of them dated all the way back to September of last year . . . .
And . . . on top of that, I got all these requests to be added to people's friends list . . . I accepted them all and went along my merry . . . . well . . . no . . . I just went along my way
If for some reason you want to add me to your Yahoo friends list, you can do so by adding one of the following names:
_Crystal_Rose_ (Don't forget the underscores)
Morrighan_ (again . . . don't forget the underscore)
Caiynda_del_Ettore (The 'i' in Caly's first name is actually a capital so it looks like an 'l' . . . I originally had Calynda_del_Ettore, but someone who had me on their friends list would not leave me alone, so I deleted that name and made one that looked the same)
Those are all the names I have on the one account I use all the time . . . and they're all different characters I play, or have played. I don't play Celtic_Magick or Morrighan_ anymore really, and I hardly ever wander into the realm of Ayenee in Yahoo Chat anymore, choosing instead to do all my role playing over at Exodus Castle . . . message board style.
*points up to the divider* . . . I love that divider . . . it's just so neat looking . . . so much better than the blue '~*~*~' thing I was doing . . . and it sorta matches the Toreador style rose I put over on the right under all the links . . . isn't it pretty?
Anyway . . . I was going to ramble about something specific, but I forgot what it was.
What is it about an online diary that seems so different from a paper/book/written diary?
I've found it so much easier to keep up with this here than I ever have at keeping up when I tried to keep a paper/book/written diary . . . I would always have short tiny entries (unless of course I was mad at the world and felt like the almighty aliens above should come and crush the tiny insignificant guy who pissed me off . . .
or just abduct my parents and do all sorts of fun and kinky experiments on them)
Here, on the computer, online, I can type away to my heart's content, and it just seems so easy. . . . I'm just doing the same thing that I would have been doing in a paper/book/written diary, just not the actual physical act of writing it . . . instead, here I sit on my floor, pillows under butt, and punch little keys about the color of my legs (yes, I'm almost that pale), and I have more entries for this month than there has been days.
I would have never done that in a paper/book/written diary. . . . I'd have maybe one entry a day . . . if I was lucky enough to remember.
Maybe part of the reason for that is because I'm such a 'net addict and I'm always online . .
I did end up ordering two pizzas yesterday. I got a meat lovers pizza and a ham/pineapple/bacon pizza . . . I know that's an odd combination . . . but it actually isn't too bad. . . . I love ham and pineapple, and the coupon said up to three toppings . . . and damnit . . . I wanted to get my money worth, so . . . since I love bacon . . . and it comes from the same animal that ham does . . . I figured, 'what the hell' . . .
So now I have a little more than one pizza's worth of pizza left . . . I didn't eat it all myself last night . . . I sold three pieces of the meat lover's pizza to my roommate for her boyfriend . . . he wanted pizza, she had some, but mine was fresh . . .
I usually wouldn't have taken the money from her for it . . . after all, it's not like I really need the fat and grease that's in that pizza, but as you know, I have no money . . . at least not until next week when I should get my first paycheck.
It's so spring like here . . . southern California spring that is . . . sunny, bright, slight breeze moving the tops of the trees around gently and stuff . . . no rain though, so I'm sad.
Why can't spring here be like the mid west or something . . . you know . . . thunderstorms and such . . . or even that silly rhyme - "April showers bring May flowers" . . . it doesn't rain in April . . . hell, it doesn't ever rain it seems . . . or when it does . . . it's not real rain . . . here we get stupid rain . . . it's either barely drizzling . . . more like there's, at most, ten people sitting up in the clouds spitting down on us . . . or . . . it rain's really hard for 10 minutes, then stops . . .
I want it to rain hard all day for once damnit.
But no . . . the sun is shining . . . the little birdies are chirping . . . makes me want to run away to England again. . . . Snow in the winter, rain in the summer . . .
c'est la vie.
*looks back over her entry*
That is such the 'stream of consciousness' entry . . . I tried to do this sort of thing on paper, but it never worked . . . even when I went to my favorite beach spot to be alone enough to think and write . . . I just came up with pitifully short pieces of writing.
I originally got the idea from Tiger when I went to the poetry board she set up . . . it's an interesting thing to do, and she's really good at it
It's basically the "don't think, just do" mentality . . . don't think about what you're going to write, just write it . . . see where your mind takes you.
It's fun . . . and I think I've written enough for now.
Oh wait . . . no . . . my brain says there's more . . . though I think I've already mentioned it in a previous entry, but I don't know.
It seems now that I'm doing entries every day . . . that my entries have gotten longer than they were before when I only did entries once in a while (i.e. January)
It seems like I have more to say, even though I never really do anything that would make me have more to say.
I wonder if, once I start working again, my entries will get shorter again.
I hope not.
That would mean:
work = less brain activity = NOT GOOD
But on the other hand:
work = money = GOOD
Basic equality statements . . . we could put them together by taking out the common word (i.e. "work") and see that one of them can't be true
GOOD = money = less brain activity = NOT GOOD
now we see that GOOD cannot equal NOT GOOD
So, my guess is that "work = less brain activity = NOT GOOD" is the false statement . . . I know that money is good, and that work means money . . . so that has to be true. . .
I'll still run the test though . . . Starting Friday . . . when I start work . . . it'll most likely run indefinitly, and hopefully I won't prove myself wrong
You see . . . I can't prove myself right . . . you can never prove something . . . you can only disprove something . . . because you can never know everything there is to know about something, so you can never be completely sure . . . however you can disprove a theory or belief by finding something that goes against it . . .
But anyway . . . I'm going to go for now . . . My brain says it's okay.
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