Yesterday, after completing my first blog post, I felt accomplished, savvy, and relieved. I wanted to tell the world (starting with my short email list) about my vast accomplishment - you see, any good friend of mine knows of my recently overcome, and sparsely at best, aversion to all thing techie.
Creating a link was my first challenge. I hopped to my email and began composing a general letter to be sent to everyone. Carefully drafting for both grammar and content, I dodge and skip over fragments and run-ons (how I love the semi-colon!)
The time has come to enter my link into the text. I highlight, copy, paste... Where is it? I search the text. Scanning, I find it has been dropped in the exact center of one of my eloquently concise sentences! Why? I try to realign all the data this link has brutally severed, but it is persistent, and will only continue copying itself, in a vain attempt to survive.
Still (moderately) in control of the situation, I use my trusty backspace key; he always does what he's told. I find adequate substitutes for the sentiments the computer has swallowed and proceed to the end, link firmly in place.
As I gather my little army of addresses and nudge them into a neat line in the "To:" box, something has happened to my draft. I mean nothing has happened to my draft, as in instead of my draft, there is now nothing. Ahhhh! My computer is hungry and is making a tasty treat of my words.
I consider sacrificing a doughnut to the laptop gods (spelled with the archaic ugh to as to be more filling,) but I know this will only make the keyboard sticky, so I sigh audibly and begin to recompose my letter, knowing it will never be the same again. If I were knitting this letter, I could have ssk, k2tog and they would have lined right up and met in the middle.
After completing my letter(s,) I pasted them into Myspace and Facebook and sent them away to all my virtual friends, family and acquaintances who may or may not take an interest. I take another look at by baby blog and realize that none of my line breaks have shown up. I observed this phenomenon in my thirty or so previews of my budding blog post, but thought I had cleverly skirted the situation with some cleverly placed asterisks followed by a series of five spaces. This fooled the preview page, but the true blog site is much smarter than that. I will have to find a more stealthy weapon.
I have a lot to learn about this blogging world, but I also have time and a little patience. I can knit a table doily in the round with lace inserts, and someone reading this will be chuckling at my frustrating adventures, knowing of the precise command that would have tamed the wild laptop into submission. This same person may be scratching her/his head at my use of knitting abbreviations as a metaphor for the reconciling of my lost literature.
We all have our things, and I just have to figure out how to be moderately adept at someone else's. I'll learn what I need to know, but until then I'll cringe at the absence of my line breaks.