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Public Service Announcement: “Regularly used in text messages or online, the word/ letter /phrase /term, “K” really only means one thing: Fuck You. The use of a “K” should be reserved for very selective moments of frustration or annoyance, otherwise it sends the wrong impression.” Read more here.
Am I the last person in the cyber world to know this?? Perhaps. I can definitely think of specific people who have used this with me. If they meant it in any other way but a casual “okay,” I was clueless. I think of myself as a relatively savvy-for-an-old-lady online participant—I do wonder where people get their gifs from and so quickly after I message them. My older daughter has promised to show me. But this, K stuff is perplexing. Who told who and when and why did they leave me out? Continue reading
So far I’ve written many, many words for 8 days straight for NaNaWriMo.
The cleaners were here this morning. When they come to clean, I retreat to a coffee shop, indulge in breakfast and latte, and plan a day. Then, I library-ed, paying a fine before taking out paper books and books on CD. Two travel books on Australia, another Percy Jackson for Julia, an Annie Lamont and some memoir for me. Then, home again for my regular round.
I broke my wrist on Sunday. Of course it was my left wrist, my dominant hand. Aside from the pain and the splint and the doc appointments and the craziness of trying to figure out how to hook a bra, button up jeans and open pill bottles with one hand, there’s a steep learning curve of another kind going on and I have to grudgingly admit, I’m grateful for it.
Excuse the disarray, gentle readers. A new year brings reorganization of the old and cluttered, rededication to particular journeys and diving into new long term projects. This year, these ideas are very exciting and before I leave my bed on New Year’s Day, I am appreciating the energy that seems to be at my disposal. I look forward to 2015 with a gentle enthusiasm which is almost a surprised but which has become familiar and comfortable. When I make my bed in the morning, I remember when all that I wanted was for the day to end and to return to my bed. I am still close enough to the years of grieving to viscerally remember being without the energy to begin a single idea. I am no longer there. Alleluia! 