Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Twice, that’s twice now my keyboard decided to stop functioning, and the desire to explore the subtext of this situation is too great. It’s an ancient piece of technology, almost a decade and a half old, so I guess surprise isn’t an option. My keyboard will simply stop, as if to say, “Just let me die, please. You will push my buttons no more.” It’s time to shelve the old.

This is our last conversation of the year, which occasions both celebration and dread. Everything from term papers to e-mails to our conversations evokes the latter in wildly different amounts, but the sentiment’s usually there. I’m not exactly sure why. Perhaps it’s the transition from something blank to something filled, and for whatever reason this is unsettling to me.

But they’re necessary. Oh, are our conversations personally necessary. I’ve tried to temper our evenings with infrequent reminders of what exactly we are–just a blog, a vanity site incapable of saving whales or children–in hopes of guarding against self-importance, that dark genie who promises to make ridiculous websites doubly ridiculous.

It’s vital I tell you, however, our talk is an undiscovered nutrient. I look forward to our discussions and, by extension, you, on most evenings. Let’s go for one more.