Er..show me the money? Anything. Come on, brain. I'm trying to start an entry. A little help, here?

Alright, then. Apparently, I'm not thinking about much of anything lately. Screw you, brain! Who needs you, anyways?

***

I finally managed to get the pictures I took with my digital camera onto the computer, but now I'm stuck. D-land says they're too big to upload, which is a damned LIE, but you just try reasoning with a website when it's got its mind made up about something. I tried. I typed "YOU LIE!" into every single text box I could find, but nothing happened. I think DiaryLand is ignoring me. What a stupid site.

Seriously, I think I either have to figure out how to resize the pics, or maybe look into finding another site to host just the pictures, and go from there.

But that sounds like wooooork! Waah! Come on, D-Land. The one super cute shot of George? It's only like 33KB too big. Couldn't you look the other way, just this once? I won't say anything, honest.

Betcha anything D-land ignores that, too.

***

So. This is going to be one of those days where I have a lot of unsuccessful conversations with inanimate objects again. My brain probably isn't technically inanimate, but you know what I mean.

I used to worry about exactly how much I talked to things that I knew damn well weren't going to answer back. I mean, I do it a lot. I talk to almost everything.

("Oh, come on, Computer. What's wrong with you now?" "OK, Keys. I know you're around here somewhere. You can't hide forever, you know!" "You're a calculator, OK? I so totally outrankyou. Respect mah authoritiy!" and of course, "Cigarette? Prepare to be smoked!")

But then I realized something. As long as nothing actually talks back, I probably don't have to be too concerned.

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