Yes. I am still typing like a monkey at the moment. Fortunately, I've got nothing to turn in for quite some time, and I can familiarize myself with the subtle differences between this keyboard and my old one. It's weird that this would be such an issue, but considering that I've never taken a single typing class in my life, I suppose it's not such a stretch to understand how such a small change could turn me into an utterly dysfunctional wreck. Trust me. I've developed a whole new respect for temps in the short time spent plundering the unfamiliar keys of this sweet, little gizmo.
Anyway, I got a very special comment from a very special lady in yesterday's entry. I'm not going to tell you her name since she's in a sort of "stealth mode" as she bounces around teh internets looking for a safe place to keep her written thoughts and feelings from the unwanted eyes of her family.
I think that's something that plagues every writer at one time or another. We pick and choose our words so as not to upset or alter the opinions of those closest to us, and it's tough to shake that sort of censorship. My situation is kind of an odd one. My parents have never read anything I've ever written, and though I have dumped off publications, invited them to readings, and even gave them tickets to my one and only play, they never took any sort of interest in that side of me. And, as bad as it sounds, it's got certain perks. For example, I can say things like, "the only thing keeping my dear, sweet mother from embarking on a boozed-up killing spree is the fact that no one's ever given her the sniper rifle she keeps hinting about every year when Christmas rolls around."
Anyway, earlier this month, I was fortunate enough to sit down and have a drink and a fascinating conversation with this very special, talented and outgoing woman. And, I have to say, her smile is branded upon my brain, and I do hope you'll all swing by and give her blog a gander to watch her once again find her feet. She's romantic, she's pragmatic, and she writes with such an ease that I am just plain jealous.