Ok, so I knew I

Ok, so I knew I was going to screw this up. Hmmph. Typical for my level
of technological proficiency: I know just enough to get myself into
trouble. Consider yourself forewarned. I had this lovely little
introductory post all typed out and it was relatively witty and fairly
erudite, but it disappeared somewhere between the typing and publishing
stages. I will try it again and hope this works. Don't you hate it when
your writing just disappears into the ether? I am the type of person
who wonders about things like this. When your cursor has jumped and yet
you're obliviously typing away, you look up and see none of the letters
and numbers have translated themselves onto the space you were aiming
for where do those characters go?
Is there a character heaven somewhere, where everytime you get a
Windows error message, a character gets his/her wings? Or, better yet,
will they come back to haunt us and eventually cause the inevitable
downfall of the Internet and all things technological? Hmmmm. The
problem could easily be solved by typing properly and keeping my eyes
on the screen rather than on my fingers, but I wonder. If we ever
experience the systematic destruction of the Internet, you will know it
was me. I just could not be bothered to stop looking at my fingers and
I will apologize in advance for taking down all the porn sites your
life revolves around. So, you see, this is my type of writing. If
you're interested, please come back. If not, it was nice to have you
for the few, brief moments you scanned my blog and I wish you well on
your armchair journeys. Try not to strain anything. For those wondering
about the name of this site, I shall explain. I live in a fairly
well-to-do suburb of the Twin Cities whose residents are called "Cake
Eaters," by the other three million residents of this fair metroplex.
For the record: I am not a cake eater. I just share the same
neighborhood that they do. The reason? I like old houses and
established trees. I do not drive a Mercedes SUV. I use my turn signals
when driving. I do not own a cell phone. I do not spend ungodly amounts
of money on clothes, shoes, the latest technological do-dad. I just
like my neighborhood, even if sometimes the neighbors annoy me with
their rampant consumerism. But, then, they are allowed to live as they
please. And I respect their right to do so, however, it does not
exclude me from poking at them occasionally. That's my right. I live in
a duplex that could be considered "ghetto" by anyone walking by and
comparing it to the neighbors' residences. I pay an extraordinarily
large chunk of change to my slumlord on the first of every month for
the privilege of living here. Unfortunately, however, he does nothing
with it other than to go on safari. He's our version of the "Great
White Hunter" but that would imply he has skill in hunting, which, from
what I hear from the manager of the house, is not the case. Reportedly,
he likes to shoot profligately at animals and then hangs their bullet
hole-ridden hides and heads on the wall. I wonder how much of the rent
I have paid over the past four years has gone toward supporting the
fine, but dying, art of taxidermy. As long as I'm introducing myself, I
suppose I should divulge a few facts. I'm a woman in her early
thirties, a novelist--unpublished as of now (is there any other kind?)/
haus frau who enjoys cooking, drinking wine, reading, and walking
around any of the lovely lakes we have here in the Cities. As my life
is rather boring, you probably won't be reading much about it. I might
include a few bits here and there, but for the most part my ramblings
will focus on things that have piqued my interest and were found worthy
of comment. That might include everything from politics, things I have
read, to movies I have seen or bad TV I have watched. It should be
interesting to see if my comments are worth anything. Thanks for
reading this and I hope you will come back.