Post-locktician-visit post

It used to take two hours, from hitting her establishment's door on MacArthur Street in Oakland and leaning my head back into her sink to hitting my car door, turning the keys in the ignition and swinging a headful of tightly twisted nappyage. Now, it's about an hour and twenty minutes. I guess each lock's root knows how to behave itself these days.

Let's see, what's on my radar? I know I had a good look at several posts the last few days, 'cause there are at least three different browser screens hiding in my PowerBook's toolbar. (I use Safari to browse and to begin posts, but only Netscape 7.2 seems to be able to handle use of AOL's blogging setup (by displaying the little bar of options that let you toggle between text and HTML, plus bolding, italicizing and other stuff). Not Internet Explorer, not Firefox and not Shiira (at least not yet) ...

So, while I was under the hairdryer, squirming at that hot-hot-heat diggin' its way into my scalp and baking my poor cranium, I managed to fire up Bloglines' mobile page on my cell phone. I got some reading in. I took these notes:

Nalo matrix? Ursula love London happiness?

I guess now it's time to decode that. To wit, Ms. Hopkinson's been hit with the Sylvia Stewart card, and Ms. Barzey's been blogging up a storm today on just those subjects.

Jdid asks his readers how they write posts. It's a pretty basic question. It ought to yield lots of interesting answers. Me? I've got a desk. It's very functional. I cover with stacks of paper, the odd pile of clothing, newspapers, stray hard drives. Whenever I want to write, I just look at it, shake my head and go off to a less messy corner of our apartment (most often, the spot on the carpet in the front room next to the air conditioner).