i read the follow on neal gaiman’s websiteand found it quite funny. i shall paste an excerpt here, but you can read the whole thing here
“I’m not terribly religious, in the computer operating system sense of the word. Many people (including my son, a full-fledged Apple person) seemed to be waiting for me to see the light and become a full-fledged Mac convert, and were shocked that once there were Macs in the house I didn’t have a Road to Damascus moment. I like them for some things, prefer PCs for other things, and, except for writing screenplays, prefer fountain pens to both of them (and for screenplays I like Final Draft, and I don’t mind which platform it’s on).
When I tell Mac people this, they smile their secret smile. They know that after we die, we go to a special place, and that those who used Macs will be raised on high, where they can sip their cappucinos and look down and see the virus-infected writhings and screamings of those who used PCs, as the damned Windows users are forever bombarded with boiling projectile vomit from the thousand-foot high screaming thing that used to be Bill Gates.
But I’m sure even the damned people down in the mud will be laughing up whatever’s left of their sleeves at those of us who secretly like fountain pens best.”
if the journal had comment features, i would have commented that a true mac user would put fans of the fountain pen above those who used windows. because they can appreciate and understand the elegance of a fountain pen. the feel of it, as it writes on the paper. the scritch scritch noise it makes. these things are important to us, as well. we like a spiritual user experience.
except, i probably would not have commented. because i’m shy. tee-hee.

that’s a self portrait of me. today. see, i’m yawning and my hair’s a mess because i’m FREAKIN’ TIRED. and i’m freakin’ tired because of that whole waking up at four am for no good reason thing. i tried to go to bed earlier last night. to compensate. 11 pm. but that wasn’t good enough. so tonight, i’ll go to bed right after angel. 10 o’clock. swear to god. i am apparently getting too old to deal with my crappy sleep habits.
speaking of sleep, i was reading the weekly last week, and it was doing a piece of books about love. a lot of them were about finding love. or landing a mate. or getting someone to marry you using techniques from the harvard school of business and how to find the man of your dreams in six weeks. [it was in the weekly that i read about that whole quirklyalone thing.] my favorite blurb about one of the books recommends, and i think this is the one that gets you prince charming in six weeks, to sleep for 10 hours a night for a week, in order to look younger and healthier than you have in a long, long time. that was the ONLY thing that article mentioned that i was willing to do. apparently, meeting your dream man takes a great deal of effort on your part. and we know how i hate effort.
and, speaking of love and marriage [eww!] , how freakin’ cool is the mayor of san francisco? incredibly freakin’ cool. you know, i’m not gay, and i don’t particular want to get married. but it pisses me off that people in this country are still trying to stop it. that’s ludicrous. i don’t know what they are protecting. or what they are afraid of, but their protestations are ridiculous, to the point of imbecilic. [how much do i love the adjective form of imbecile? very very much. so much that i think i’ve reach the pinnacle of happiness, with regards to blogging, and will now conclude this entry.]