i simply had to get up and type this entry in order to awaken satisfied tomorrow morning. plus, i had a hard time falling asleep. coffee while making dinner. there could have been wine, but then i chose the coffee. more things get done that way.
i don't need photos in my blog anymore. if 'thappens, nice. but it's just an inconvenience to convenience-happy me that deters from writing.
what also deters: i'm not anonymous here. i am sharing with the world, people! people who know me, more specifically. but that brings me back to a revolutionary theory springing from my brain on the way out of the teenage haze of 'i can't tell xy i like him because if he doesn't like me it's embarrassing': there is no reason to be ashamed of my feelings. or embarrassed by them. so peeps, deal with it.
second conundrum, though: a prospective employer might find me here. but since in the near future i will be my only employer and if things go as planned, i.e. my empire takes shape, i won't have to worry about employers in the farther future, either. furthermore, this can always be deleted.
or maybe not. but here we revert to the feelings, employerschmoyer.
where was i?
genau an derr sellben s-telle! wutz, urmel. must-see. simply. is anyone interested in buying an ibook that has the complete adobe cs3 on it? before i left the bed tonight [nope, not a nightly occurrence], i thought of listing it on ebay. what a fantastic computer, with actually expanded RAM [now 1 GB] and the full adobe cs3, as mentioned. then i thought of a few other features:
bottom shell has a long crack.
microphone doesn't work anymore.
those little feet are gone, but for one. or maybe now, all are gone.
plus! the battery is new.
another feature: the harddrive expands over a quaint 37 GB, a euphemist might call it 40. that's the size of usb sticks these days. spell check, something i shall eternally feel superior to, doesn't know the word euphemist. i think it's different than an optimist. don't know a better word for someone prone to using euphemisms than a euphemist. let me email webster.
so, on another note, that of being a nostalgist [jesus, spellcheck, not this one either? how about a little neologistic (?...) spirit here?], i had to write this post so long as i'm still on the external keyboard. quaint, attached to my ibook. makes folding it shut a little more of an act, with pulling out the keyboard first and all, but then there's the benefit of that if [beautiful..] my ibook falls, i might be able to catch it by the cable before it hits the ground.
regarding the aforementioned auction of this here superfast 100110101 machine, there would be a new keyboard in it by the time it's sold. however, that keyboard comes courtesy of my brother so now it's kind of like he donated a kidney for my computer and i couldn't possibly ever sell that, could i?
also, before i even thought of that brilliant analogy, another one came up. the one of my trusty 1990 Tbird [it was built in 1989 which i'd rather call it since that sounds yet older, but then it was a 1990 model and i am nothing of not factually accurate here]. that tbird, the mechanic said, would cost $1,500 to fix. some time in late 2006. naturally, i wasn't going to put that money into the car but didn't think there's be any trouble getting someone to pay me $1,500 for such a stellar automobile with no cupholders but automatic seatbelts in the front, a stickshift, and one of those rare SC tbirds, not an LX. really, all it needed was all new radiatorhosing [?] and some oil leaks fixed and it would have been fine. and maybe once again the spots where paint came off and revealed yellow plastic bumpers, maybe those spots polished over with sharpie again.
in the end, i sold it for $500. of course, that was one violent incident and one realization of 'what's money' and several months later.
doesn't mean it doesn't still hold a special space in my heart, that tbird, and doesn't mean my heart chambers aren't still sent aflutter when i see its cousin. any. cousin.
accompanied by a slight turning up of my nose, wrinkling of said facial protrusion and the sweet feeling of superiority that comes with seeing a clearly botched sharpie paint job.
manche dinge kann man einfach.
i'm afraid of translating whole eloquent posts into german here, because it might read as if it's my second language. und so behalte ich mir das recht vor to just use a german expression when i don't know a better english one. take that, duden. and you, webster.
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