A lot of you–well, two of you–have been wondering why I haven’t been updating my blog lately. Let me just say, “It’s not my fault.” See, the thing is I’ve been staying at the B-Man’s the past few weeks, and he is practically a caveman when it comes to technology.

images-82.jpegFor instance, he owns a tiny television that has no cable and no DVD player. When was the last time you adjusted a rabbit-ear antenna on the top of a TV? I swear, every time I walk into the living room, I want to shout, “Hello, Grandma!”

Anyway, he owns a computer made in the last century. He has an external dial-up modem. He uses AOL. Pretty much three of my own Seven Deadly Sins. Like any spouse who loves his man unconditionally, I decided to change him. Make his life better. And I came up with a plan to slowly bring him into the 21st century. I got him another computer—one from the last decade—which has an internal modem connection, and moved him off of AOL. Next step: a fancy, new, iBook and DSL.

What does this have to do with me not updating my blog? Writing is one of my great pleasures, and using his stuff is like Michelangelo using a stone and chisel. I’d just rather not.

Q & A:

Why are you writing now?
images-71.jpegThe P’s have left for two weeks for Tucson and asked me to watch our dog. I returned to my RNO home where Big Daddy has wireless DSL! And guess what else? I did write! Tons and tons of pages in my Moleskine! And I’m here for two weeks! Expect more joy for us all!

Couldn’t you go to an Internet café and blog?
Yes. Yes, I could. But you know what? I didn’t. Because writing for me is a solitary act and when I’m at an Internet café, I’m too distracted by all the iPod people staring at their laptops and talking on cell phones. FreE FrEak ShoW!

When you said you wanted to make “his” life better, didn’t you really mean make “your” life better?
When “my” life is better, “his” life is better.

What’s with the hair?
I asked Sherrie, wife of Nevada Girl’s son, Jay, to cut my hair. She is super sweet, super cute, and super talented. Best haircut ever. Everyone loved my hair. Ev. Ree. One. Thank you, Sherrie!

k2.jpgThe B-Man asked me for a digital picture of myself. I only had one on my TiBook and it was taken a few years ago. Anyway, I sent it to him and he loved it. He especially loved my hair in the pic; it was quite short. And do you want to know how much I love The B-Man? Before my return to my SFO home, I said good-bye to my most favorite haircut ever, and had Enzo, the 75-year old Italian, barber cut it like the picture. The B-Man loved it. I could have guessed.

Enzo?
Big Daddy sometimes goes to a real barbershop and there’s this one guy, Enzo, who’s all Mediterranean and looks like someone’s really laidback uncle in a kind of an
barbershop3_lg.jpg old-school way. He is a true talent. Want a no-nonsense cut? He’s the man. He speaks about 15 words of English. I always tip him big because I appreciate him not talking while cutting my hair like the other barbers do. Here’s the thing about the shop: I am consistently the youngest one in there, by about 25 years. And all they talk about is fishing, and sports, and the damn City and all the street work going on–they made 4th street all one-ways, fercrisake. When he was done, I was so pleased, it was all I could do to not blurt out, “My boyfriend is going to love my hair!” But, the thought of being beat up by a bunch of geriatrics seemed kind of unpleasant for everyone involved.

Didn’t The B-Man call you a Tech-roid? What’s that mean?
An asshole with an opinion.

How does The B-Man feel about all of this?
I didn’t ask.

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