Where'd I Go?!
Just A Guy On The Website
So, it's Saturday morning and it's freakin' raining. I should be hiking into Eldorado Canyon and climbing with a friend of mine (http://mountainproject.com/v/colorado/boulder/eldorado_canyon_sp/105759453) but, as I just mentioned, it's raining, so that's a bad idea. Instead, as a distant, distant off-the-charts consolation prize, I should be making out a test for my Sr. Lit class over Marquez's Chronicle of a Death Foretold. That's what I was intending to do when I booted up the ole' Sony at the coffee shop. Then I thought, "Oh--I should check my email to see if...well, whatever..." and I found an an email that suggested I "check out my Space site". So, now I'm officially distracted, open up a new window and search for this guy and can't find him.---(this entry is going nowhere isn't it?)--- Then, I decide to search for mySELF...in a very surface, literal, non-spiritual sense. Just wondering if I'm out there in MySpace Land. I'm not. And I think that's weird. I'm absolutely not there. I searched for 'Clint Locks', 'Clint Locks' in quotes, 'clintlocks', and a variety of other nominal search strategies, and I simply don't exist. Now, this is interesting. How disturbing. Creepy. It's like seeing your name in the obituaries, or like seing that your name was left off your support group roster, or like being ignored at a party. It's like what I imagine being walked through by a ghost would feel like.
On the other hand--what a load off! This officially absolves me of so much responsibility. I've decided that I'm not going to finish making my Sr Lit test and I may not go to work on Monday at all, now that I don't exist. And I'm not finishing this blog, either...'cause what's the point?
So, it's Saturday morning and it's freakin' raining. I should be hiking into Eldorado Canyon and climbing with a friend of mine (http://mountainproject.com/v/colorado/boulder/eldorado_canyon_sp/105759453) but, as I just mentioned, it's raining, so that's a bad idea. Instead, as a distant, distant off-the-charts consolation prize, I should be making out a test for my Sr. Lit class over Marquez's Chronicle of a Death Foretold. That's what I was intending to do when I booted up the ole' Sony at the coffee shop. Then I thought, "Oh--I should check my email to see if...well, whatever..." and I found an an email that suggested I "check out my Space site". So, now I'm officially distracted, open up a new window and search for this guy and can't find him.---(this entry is going nowhere isn't it?)--- Then, I decide to search for mySELF...in a very surface, literal, non-spiritual sense. Just wondering if I'm out there in MySpace Land. I'm not. And I think that's weird. I'm absolutely not there. I searched for 'Clint Locks', 'Clint Locks' in quotes, 'clintlocks', and a variety of other nominal search strategies, and I simply don't exist. Now, this is interesting. How disturbing. Creepy. It's like seeing your name in the obituaries, or like seing that your name was left off your support group roster, or like being ignored at a party. It's like what I imagine being walked through by a ghost would feel like.
On the other hand--what a load off! This officially absolves me of so much responsibility. I've decided that I'm not going to finish making my Sr Lit test and I may not go to work on Monday at all, now that I don't exist. And I'm not finishing this blog, either...'cause what's the point?
posted by just a guy at 4:38 PM
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