Each week in 300 words

Like being Queer?

First, 2 random comments:
1. I've learned that you can tab within the box. Cool.
2. Snuggled up in bed with a great book and warm milk provides the most satisfying feeling I've had all week.
I was watching an episode of Queer as Folk (my most recent TV addiction) and at one point, a character named Ben states that he prefers writing with pen and paper to using a computer because the beauty of longhand lies in just that - having the time to think while you write. Sure it's slower, but the process almost seems to work better that way. I think he's ignoring those creative bursts where your "pen can't keep up" with the words that are pouring out, but in a way, isn't that experience - the thrill of that rush - incredible in itself?
When you begin writing on a clean sheet of paper, it's remarkable how much that first sentence or doodle or line of a letter/character matters. Suddenly, the integrity of the page seems to disappear, marred by this blasphemous ink that dares to make its mark. If you're going to ruin a perfectly pristine page, you'd better damn well have something good to say. Once your pen hits the page, it's all over. Kind of like how a crease in a paper never goes away, no matter how many times you try to roll it straight over a table edge. And it's especially a pain in the ass when that page is something important - say, your resume (of course, in a resume's case, it's printed, but even so, just stay with me here). And you have to print it all out AGAIN on that obscenely pricy "resume paper." What is it that we have to prove to people how "professional" we are? It seems so unnatural.
Sitting here amonst stacks of books, I hope we never stop publishing. Scientifically, it's already been established that reading from paper is easier on the eyes than reading off a computer (reflection vs. illumination). Besides that, books are just so...beautiful. I miss the way books used to be made, leather bound with gold inlaid letters, borders and symbols. They smell like knowledge.
On a completely unrelated note, I love having someone sing me to sleep. It feels so intimate and comforting.

posted by Debbie @ 4:23 PM