Please talk free. The door is locked–just you and me. Can I take you to the dining room? It’s got a glass table; you can watch yourself while I’m typing.
(And all this time I thought that song was about cocaine, not about public displays of personal esteem.)
If I told you I was also drinking wine in the bathroom, would it totally gross you out? Because it shouldn’t. I’m on vacation, in a condo rental, and I brought the computer so I could actually do some word processing work, and I was lured away from it by discovering an unsecured wireless connection in the complex. How did I discover it? Well, I was being gross when I brought the computer into the bathroom so I could play the Mah Jong tile matching game while doing my business (I had the condo to myself at the time, and it seemed as good a way to let loose as anything). The signal only comes in through the bathroom, and it is intermittent (depending on my posture) but it’s cybersurfing I am! I was accessing it from the driveway for a little while, but that got old, plus it put me in the position of having to talk about why I was hanging out in the driveway with a laptop (instead of a cigarette). Voices carry, and it would have killed me if the owner of the network discovered that I had hacked into it, and thus applied a password. It’s not like I’m downloading files or anything. What I ought to be doing is the work I brought with me, which can be done from a suede recliner in a cozy living room. Instead, I sneaked in here to check my blog stats (another duh-rama between Freedomain Radio and Liberating Minds has sent some traffic my way). And that’s where things really get interesting. Like anti-matter interesting. Check it out:
Someone has been searching Google for “karenm77.” Look up at the address bar–I’m karenm77. But so is someone else in the southern hemisphere. It would freak me the fuck out if I were the freaking the fuck out type. Luckily, I am the pleased as punch type, and I am pleased as punch to have a doppelganger! My brother used to call up people in different cities who have his exact same name just to talk to them on the phone for a while. (He also once mailed a letter in a walnut with a stamp on it and had it successfully delivered, but that’s a different story.) So somewhere, standing on her head and admiring the Southern Cross, is a person with my Internet name who is also following Weight Watchers and reviewing books. That’s kind of trippy. Definitely worth a post. I looked around on the various places that come up with a search on that name thinking I might be able to find an email address but only found her blogs, and I don’t want to leave some random comment on a post about a completely different topic. If she had blogged about me, that would be one thing, but I’m not going to insert myself into her personal pages without justification. That said, will someone please please please click through to her site at the link I posted? If she’s as much of a stats whore as I am, she’ll notice that some clicks have come through from my blog and maybe she’ll click to my blog and leave a comment here! And then the entire universe might collapse, but it’s a risk I am willing to take.
Of course, someone also did a search on “iconoclast or malcontent,” so maybe that person was looking for me all along. One never knows, does one? Unless that person leaves a comment, of course. So do it. DO IT. NOW 5..4..3..2..1..DO IT!
Did you do it?
So anyway, I’ve had quite a few people click through to my review of the Edgar Sawtelle story. It must be on a bunch of school reading lists. It’s old enough now, I suppose, to be studied in classes. It’s a particularly convoluted review and it doesn’t say half of what I meant to say half as well as I wanted it to, but I hope in its own small way it’s been useful.
Because I all really want to be is useful in a small way. And famous. They aren’t mutually exclusive, you know. And having a doppelganger makes it twice as likely to happen.