I love them, really, I do, A LOT, but the whole concept is so alien to anyone who has not had the pleasure of meeting a really cool person, that might happen to be halfway around the world from you, on the other side of your screen.
One of my online friends commented that she would have imagined me with red painted fingernails, which is so far from me, that is struck me, how much we create our online identities, and how very real we can be, at the same time slightly better and more polished than in real life.
I like to play scrabble online, and I sometimes play with strangers (yes, I am a total loser, I get that.) and sometimes I chat along mindlessly because that is my nature. I am a chatty Cathy.
I recently I have gotten the distinct impression that it makes me sound like a total nutter.
Will I stop?
No, most like not, but there you go.
Modern life is wacky.
And here are my very plain austere toes.
The photo of my very plain and austere fingers was blurry.
the disaster of an evening
It was Rolf's birthday over the weekend.
Usually I use his birthday as an excuse to throw a big party.
this year I was both broke and SICK, so I threw a very small, half assed party, inviting only three of his scientist friends and called it good.
Mark bought me this wine.
I made a lemon, poppy seed cake with fresh raspberries.
We had some cheese and bread, and our friend MM brought over homemade smoked salmon.
Freyja was behaving like a holy terror.
I mean HORRIBLE.
This is Mark trying to restrain himself from punting her off the deck.
Just before this photo was made, she had bitten a chunk (yes you are reading that right) a CHUNK of glass, right out of a William Sonoma juice tumbler.
A sweet little innocent glass that was gifted to me by my friend Lily.
Now there are seven.
Right after this photo was made, she stuck both hands into a big bowl of whipped cream and rubbed them together like she was putting on hand lotion.
I am very snuffly and woozily and tired and swollen, red nosed and cranky.
Rolf suggested going to bed early and locking the door so the guests couldn't get in.
It was that kind of evening.