Pseudo-dialog because it was an exchange of notes. Years ago I used to enjoy the creeping pace of a lengthy discussion by mail. Of late I have come to dislike the pace of exchanging notes, even when both parties are on-line. I don't even enjoy the miserable instant message environment.
Here am I, yet another lamenting the "lost art of conversation."
The conversation in question was engendered when someone wished to be "smart" and I asked "If you could choose would you choose to be "smart" or "talented". We immediately tripped on the fact we had not defined our terms. Tomorrow or the next day (maybe in the wee hours?) I'll devote some time to my thoughts on the subject. Just because I'm intrigued by some of the thoughts thus far expressed. More later.
Today was another one of those "hen party" days. Nothing disparaging in my use of the term, I assure you, it is just a convenient way to say my mother's two sisters and her best friend were here.
I was put in the somewhat demeaning role of calling in with a cousin to make sure she would be "around" this weekend. Neither my mother and I could drive in an emergency and the option of having nobody to rely on but the emergency services was not a reasonable one for me. I will not disparage local emergency services, but I note that (I am serious) I can cite an instance where a cross-town trip was extended by 20 minutes due to the intervention of cows. I am unwilling to have no other way to get to the emergency room than the local ambulance, just in case there is another stampede or something.
Apart from being outnumbered the day merely sucked. I did nothing, accomplished nothing, tried to accomplish nothing, found nothing to watch on TV, nothing to listen to on tape, nothing on the Internet. And, by the by, Bizvogato's current color scheme is unreadable by me. I have to rely completely on the screen reader. When I cannot use any visual clues to position my cursors in a site as non-linear as Bizvogato, then it is pointless to wade through it. I tried today, but it took me fifty minutes to reach the conclusion that the only thing that had changed was the color scheme."Jeden Tag das selbe scheiße!"