No e-mail messages

No e-mail messages this morning. It looks like e-life is already returning to normal, the normal of the last five, six years. I guess Miss Fox has finally figured out that nothing is ever going to come from me, and she has to take her hunt elsewhere. I wonder if she found my "Fatties Lament" entry, or my prosey poem on being an aborigine who will never be a published poet. And I shouldn't forget about the entries from my first years on LiveJournal. There are probably a few that openly lay out my stunted life.

It seems to me that people think it is a waste of time to be a good blogging buddy with someone - to read and write and comment - unless there is a chance that it can lead to something real, especially some sack time. And it seems to me that it was not always that way, that during the first years of this LJ-type of blogging, it was thought to be fun or interesting just to keep a personal journal on the public Internet and to share with others doing the same thing, which was especially great for me, because I had nothing else to offer. But I guess blogging was a new thing at the time and has since lost that wonderful innocence.

And, god, how I needed those few years of sweet society. I seriously think it may have saved my life, allowing me to feel human again.

O.E.D.

Dictionary.com now sticks ads in the middle of their definitions. It made me think of the Oxford English Dictionary, the dictionary of all dictionaries. I lusted for it in my twenties, still fresh my failure, thinking about being a writer, about getting paid as a writer. The dream of getting the dictionary drifted away from me by the time I reached my thirties, as I suppose there didn't seem to be much point in it. I googled it now and checked it out, and it made me sigh in wistfulness. Three-hundred dollars a year. It is a little rich, no doubt about it, but it does not feel like it is impossible, but just safely beyond my reach, probably forever. I don't suppose it really matters.

( Example )

civilized life

The city or the county is cutting off the water for four hours. A water main busted down the street. Four hours is about three hours longer than a minor annoyance, especially given the condition of my quasi-diarrheic bowel movements these days. Fortunately, I was able to take care of one more trip to the toilet, and as it is very late in the morning, I may be okay now. Still, I feel a little anxious that my enjoyment of civilized life is maintained on the slenderest reed, and that’s if you can count not having friends and lovers as being civilized in the first place.

e-books and real books

I think I have crossed a line in the battle between e-books and real books. The original plan was to only put disposable pop-fiction on the Kindle; all my serious books would have to be good, old-fashioned real books. However, now it was time to get Robert Caro’s “The Passage of Power”, and even though the Kindle version is only about three dollars cheaper, I got the e-version. I figured that I am most likely to read it only once, and it is easier to handle on the Kindle.

Moreover, I have come to appreciate that it is easier to book-blog with the Kindle. I can put the little rectangle thing beside even the laptop, and the print is bigger and easier to read. When it comes to book-blogging real books, I have to pick up the book and try to remember a phrase, then put the book down and type it, and repeat ad nauseam.

On the other hand, one possible drawback on e-books is that I am afraid I may have to lose all my downloaded books when my Kindle breaks down.

So, when it comes to my best loved books, I will stick to the real thing, but besides those, I guess I will be playing it by ear.