Grrrrrr

This laptop and I don't get along. I hate her and she hates me. I refuse to enlarge the letters to the size of my head in order to read--vanity is all--and this key board is ridiculously tiny for a non-typist. She's completely bent on making me seem like an illiterate too, those typos lately--all her fault. Bitch. Plus she keeps trying to swallow my stories. Why oh why won't the objects in my life cooperate? My laptop hates me, the coffee maker spits all over me, the cd player eats my cd's and no one believes me. Why, I tell you, if it weren't for my constant companion here, I'd be in sorry shape. Excuse me, what do you mean what companion? He's sitting right here. Right here. Can't you see him? Tsk--you're the one who needs their eyes checked, hunh? *chuckle* Don't say that Frank, that's not nice.

Stop looking at me like that.

he's right here....

Yada, yada yada....

It's the weekend! You know what that means? Roxyspam! Mmmmmmm! Dee-lish! And totally devoid of any nourishment (or sense).

Remember a while ago when folks were asking (shut up, they were) what if any character do we most identify with? I believe the term was Mary-Sue....
Well, that was very interesting, I thought. My knee jerk reaction was to say Clark, but that's not right. I like him the best, but he's not any version of me. Then, I thought well, maybe it's so and so--a character based loosely on a SV character who was on the screen a total of fifteen minutes one season. (oh, all right, since you twist my arm, it's Wade) But after more deep thought (you know, laying in the tub and making shampoo horns and glasses--which don't by the way, owie-- painless Mr. Bubble my hind parts), really thinking about it, I realized Pete. He’s the one. Petey-Sue, would that be?

He talks like me and more or less thinks like me. I mean, kind of clueless and stomping on folk’s feelings but completely accidentally. He’s got a good heart, a little bit of a temper and an overly sensitive side that he tries to hide. I guess he's the voice of the average person to me. The one who's confused by what his friends are going through, but give him a minute, he'll get it together and then he’s got your back. I think Pete's me, but better in some ways. Cuter, anyway.

Why, no, I’m not avoiding writing, why do you ask?