Twenty some years ago, before the Internet, if I had a question, I would ask my mom. And my mom would know because my mom knew everything. And if she didn’t know, or she would get out the dictionary and/or encyclopedia and look it up. Well, first she’d tell me to look it up but then her curiosity would get the best of her and she would take over. For example, once I came home and told her that during the prep for an event, a friend had told me he had a Prince Albert’ piercing. I, of course, pretended I knew what that was, just nodded and smiled awkwardly at him as he went on and on about how much his wife liked it... and then as soon as I got home, asked my mom what it was. She did not know that one so to the dictionary we went. To say both of us were enlightened would be an understatement. We could never look at that friend again without giggling.
I loved those days. They were simple. You’d have a question. Look it up. Get an answer and move on. Now it’s harder because the time sucking Internet can cause you to lose hours of your life. Not to mention that one simple question would mean subjecting yourself to a plethora of images your brain will retain for all of time. Like, for example, the images of the aforementioned Prince Albert.
If you were to look at my Internet history for today, you’d think I had some sort of physical and mental problem. My searches include the menu for Carrabba’s restaurant, the life expectancy of a dog in renal failure, what the TSA will allow as far as razors, the address for the woman in my neighborhood that needs toilet paper tubes so her kids can make a bobsled, and fistulas.
Why the fistula, you ask? I heard someone mention it a while back and this morning, for some reason, it popped into my head. And, since I had other things I should be doing, I totally googled fistula. Well, what I actually did is open up the computer, checked my mail., responded to my mail. check my social media, responded to my social media and THEN I remembered that I was looking up fistula so I googled it – and BAM one hour later, I was thoroughly in formed about fistulas. I also have some wonderful images seared into my eyeballs for replaying during my 3am nightmare sessions. And, because the Internet is what it is, I now know all sorts of things about Crohns's disease and perianal fistulas and anal fissures, hemorrhoids and lots of different other things that can happen to your ass.
And the ironic thing is I can’t remember who told me about fistulas! Or why I’m looking them up at 8am on a Monday but I am now apparently your go to person for everything fistula. You’re welcome. I think.
My name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me