Posting From Abroad

A first: a post from Starbucks instead of my living room!

When I was in eighth grade and struggling with a notebook in my bedroom armchair to write my own little gothic novella, I can remember being oh-so-frustrated with the cramps in my hands and the smears of ink over my hands and the way in which the notebook rumpled. Back then, laptops were still a sort of mysterious item to me, for business executives with private jets. I didn't know anyone who had one, I just knew about them from the movies. And I imagined someday having a laptop of my own, with a DOS type screen, green on black, to type my story.

Hah!

And today, I sit in a coffee shop with my little MacBook, Artemis, and my iPod, Lulu, typing away, on the Internet. If only my eighth-grade-self could have a little vision of this.