[ Return to the SOAPBOX ]


"Goodbye to the Already Dead, or, I am Leksa, WebGrrl"

"Si natura negat, facit indignatio versum qualemcumque potest, quales ego vel Cluvienus."

My writing style just doesn't cut it these days. Guess I need to assume the style of everyone else.

First of all, as I assume the mindset of others, let me remind you that you need to upgrade your browser, even if you can't or don't want to. If the table doesn't fit on the screen, that's your problem, not mine. I have serious things to do with my time. Not downgrade my site for people who are too lazy to get the new versions of software.

We women can be mean too.

I always buy a Starbuck's Coffee and a couple bagels when something like this happens. I get the bagels with the sesame seeds on top -- there is something delightfully similar between those seeds and my life. Jane once told me in a small coffee shop outside her web design business about sesame seeds. With a polite smile, she told me of every detail of the seed as it grew from nothing into the small thing I just crushed between my teeth with a satisfying bite.

"I think it's interesting how seeds are perceived by people. Mikael said it best when he told us that seeds were how plants reproduce."

I just nodded carefully, since Mikael's comment was subtly profound and Jane smiled in such a way that her witty company could not be compared to it. I was thinking about my site.

I was thinking about something new to do with all my domain names. Over a cold beer the next night, after some more deep thinking on my part, Frank (you know he's the best when it comes to ideas) suggested that I start making sentences out of the domain names I had. What a great trend to start! The only problem was that I was missing one word in order to make the sentence complete.

But luckily, I took a couple hours off to register that name (it was still available) and my domain-glut was born. No longer did I just tell people about one site or the other. I could name them all in one sentence.

"Leksa, you're bothered by something, aren't you?" he asked me.

I nodded, but not with complete conviction -- that's such a hard task for me. Besides, Frank's smile had me spellbound.




Now that I remember what transpired afterwards, I regret it. He was a nice person to be with, always full of ideas and that little something that made the sun shine brighter. We never talked again.

Well, that's not true. He called once and all I could do was nod. He said he knew I was nodding, even over the phone. Such an insightful gentleman.

But he was nothing like the Glimmer Man.

I met the Glimmer Man online. I hardly had time to talk to him, but he always sent the most flowery and romantic ICQ messages to me (you DO have ICQ, don't you?) and I couldn't resist. I was single and I needed a boyfriend for the week. The Glimmer Man was an amazing specimen.

We met in real life within hours of meeting online. I needed to do something for myself. Something impulsive. I do so much for other people and they never appreciate it. Who do they think updates this site so they can read it?

People just don't appreciate people like me enough. Even though they have no sites or domains or awards, still they think they can criticize my work!

The weekend with the Glimmer Man was really something to write about. I sat on his bed several times and talked to him in the bathroom a bit. He was pleased afterwards. At 9:30PM, we began discussing our achievements with each other. By 9:33PM, we had already moved on to talking about how great our CD collections were. It must've been six, no, seven minutes worth of trading CD reviews and I already wanted to leave at 9:40PM to get that Jamiroquai album. This band is hot and new and I want to be a part of it.

So, a month later, we stopped talking. I hope I'm not revealing too much. I tend to do that sometime. That's one of the problems of writing online -- the people you know are bound to get hurt since they're the ones you write about. It's hard as a highly-regadred writer such as myself to decide what is appropriate to write about and what isn't. Why must life be so hard?

The bagel was good. The coffee was wonderfully Starbuck-ish. I'm glad Karl turned me onto it a couple weeks ago. Word has it that Starbuck's is growing in popularity quite fast! I like it already.

So naturally, He and I had problems. He told her some things about me which weren't true, and I couldn't believe He had the nerve to do that. I spent what seemed to be an eternity with him, and now he's gone.

Now he's gone. Now he's gone.

They call that a retorical effect, but only writers like me need to know that.

She is a nice person and I'm glad I could talk to her after the Glimmer Man was gone. But now the Glimmer Man came back for a day and I didn't know what to do. No explanation or warning. He just showed up.

He had little to say. I didn't care. After half an hour in my bedroom, he told me he just came to say goodbye. He gave me a gift, too. It was Hercules toy from McDonald's.

He always thought of the best gifts...

Now I am eating the other bagel. Such is life. As soon as you find a bagel you like, you eat it and it's gone.

I am depressed and furstrated because He came back. Especially after they neglected to warn me about it.

I talked to Him for hours and hours and I was really disapponted with him. So he walked out the door and I never saw him again.

The sentence, by the way, was "Anon, Woman rolls Dice at Unknown Committal." One person told me it should be "Anon Committal Woman Dice Unknown." I didn't get it.

The Glimmer Man was my bagel and now he is gone.

"Abi in malam rem."

[ respond to this in the General Discussion forum ]


[ Return to the SOAPBOX ]


benturner.com:  click here to start at the beginning
RECENT NEWS (MORE):  Subscribe to my del.icio.us RSS feed! about moods | mood music
12/03/08 MOOD:  (mood:  yellow)