|Hmmmm...and related comments
||[May. 21st, 2011|12:04 am]
I might've noticed sooner that Twittinesis wasn't sending my daily Twitter posts here except for husband being in the hospital and then the copy edits, but now I've noticed. Haven't seen any notices about it...but dang. And their website is suspended (suspended? Huh?)
I did notice that there's another dadgum header design I don't like (light colored and busy--very distracting) at the top of my "post an entry" page. I really, really, REALLY don't like having these changing header designs that (with few exceptions) aren't anything I'd pick in a million years. Sometimes in the selections they make there's one I wouldn't mind so much, but only once has it won. Dark, people. Dark, cool colors if any, not some busy loud thing in warm colors. And especially not cute or symbolic.
And then there's this Rapture thing. I guess the people who believe that read a different Bible than I do and also don't read about all the previous times people have been sure, and sold their stuff or quit work and...the day came and went and everything was the same. Oops. Unless you believe in a God who can't stick to a plan and keeps shilly-shallying and changing the dates...previous experience would suggest that the certainty of a specific time is, um, misguided. "Yes, I know I said Tuesday at 0900 Greenwich Mean Time, but I'm otherwise occupied then and decided to do it two years from Friday at noon, Central Daylight..." Could the world end tomorrow? Sure. And I could be hit by a falling tree limb, bitten by a rattlesnake, stomped by a maddened cow, hit by a car, stung by ten thousand Africanized bees, shot by a drug-crazed criminal, or just trip carrying something out the back door, fall, and hit my head on the concrete steps...dead, in other words, in any and every way that's possible. End of this world for me. The first time I got all hot and bothered about some disaster that might happen, my mother sat me down and said "Even if the world is going to end tomorrow, brush your teeth tonight. Even if it's going to end at noon, make your bed and wash the breakfast dishes. Even if it's going to end at suppertime, do your homework before you play." There were other such conversations, because the early '50s were another time a lot of people were sure the world would end (usually with total nuclear war) and we kids worried, as kids do. I thought her advice was dull and annoyingly practical ("Eat your peas anyway--it might NOT be your last meal...") especially all that stuff about chores.
But here I am. And here you--reading this--are.