Yes, I have a computer.

I've working, work-working, for-the-man work-working, as would a bat in hell for the past week, will resume at 2 p.m. today, and so immediately and swiftly sneak in a nonpoetic, nonfictional rant, directed at those who on hearing I'm not financially prosperous start tiptoe-ing with comments such as,
If you have a computer . . .

What lack of imagination! The person in question, a decent, hardworking woman, and sterling feminist, became trepidatious when she realized my financial situation was not equal to hers. Well, if you have a computer . . .

How would I blog without a computer? How would I keep writing poems and stories, fiddle with the beloved idiocy of social networking, submit my work, email my friends?  (She'd seen My 3,000 Loving Arms.)

There's more to the story and since such a decent person is involved, decent but not artist-to-the-core like me (that was a compliment a few years ago--I wish I could remember who told me--You're an artist to the core) I'll back off. But for this:

Although research is often part of my worklife--I copyedit and have to check a variety of facts and names only quickly ascertainable through use of my quick fingers and relentless curiosity--I don't google people I might date, at least until I've met them. What you learn from googling is information.

Information.  I don't need that; I need to meet the person, sense their heart, idiosyncrasies, get (if you will) their damn vibe.  This keeps happening.  I meet someone who has googled me, thus obtaining information about Sarah Sarai.  So they show up with a fixed and rigid sense of who I am which doesn't begin to match who I really am--so flawed; so wonderful.

I will return to my normal schedule of blogging soon.  I don't kid myself that the numbers are vast in terms of readership but cyberworld is vast and connections subtle and often real. Why are people difficult and the imaginary simpler? Sigh, oh, yes, sigh.

*fractal done on a computer & sourced by way of a computer (my computer)