Thursday, January 21, 2010

For thine is the power...

More in the new laptop annals: so I was in a coffeeshop (remember? I was a desktop user until two weeks ago) and again I proved my fossilhood. I was the only PC in a sea of macs. I tried not to let it get to me, and after about ten minutes, was fully 'into' the writing. Everyone disappeared. Their trendy armwarmers. Their sexy bed head hair. Their Facebook screens that I could just make out if I squinted...gone. I found myself picking at strands of my hair, twisting it as if I could wring the right words from it, same as I do at home--then shuddering awake like I used to do in early morning classes in college. Whoops. Am I in public? But soon I was deep in the story again, and not paying attention to my actions.

Until the cursor jumped up into some word in a paragraph I'd been done with for forty seconds. I didn't notice until I'd already typed half a dozen more words. Now I had to figure out cut/paste using the touchpad. Argh! There it went again, just as I was pasting, some heat my palm was generating activated the touch pad and everything went wonky. Not cool. I was cursing like a sailor, hardly even under my breath. In a coffee shop full of mac users who knew how to raise single eyebrows--something like an Ethyl Merman synchronized swimming routine, but over steaming lattes.

Then!! I must have created this with my own desperate need, like in The Secret or The Compass or whatever the latest "you won't believe how strong your mind is" shelf-help (I think I just coined a word with my typo--a book you read once then leave out to prove you read it) book....I look down at the touchpad that is causing me grief and there, tiny, never before seen. Smaller than the @ symbol is a tiny toggle. I touch it and an icon tells me my touchpad is off.

This is easy. Life is good. I only wish I could say I finished my novel...

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