in the days of the wild west STOP dammit, my telegraph broke STOP

yes, indeed, i long for those telegraph days. except those things are tricky little buggers to operate. my great-grandfather was a telegraph operator. one time i found a telegraph in the garage and tried to work it. i think it was broken. but i did learn a little morse code. like S-O-S. in case my ship is ever sinking.

but here is the way i feel about communication: sometimes it is nicer not to have it. when i was in brasil, i had no phone. it was so liberating.

interjection:
a: dorkus incrediblius geekus is what you are.
j: silence, she is typing
a: can i call you julius?

anyway, as i was saying: in brasil, i had no phone. it was so liberating. if people wanted me, they found me. or i was with the people i would have wanted to find me anyway. now, that is the way it should work. of course, our modern world, so big and small at the same time, necesitates that we must have about 15 different ways to get in touch with each other at any given moment, precipitating the unnecessary freak-out at lack of response. did it not occur to us that someone might be busy? but, of course not! the phone is right there. i mean, they really could just CALL. is it that hard? maybe it is. you know, i should just be like w, who never answers her phone. then, when you actually make contact, it is a pleasant surprise! she deigned to pick up the phone? this must be your lucky day. or she thinks you are on the verge of death. or something. it makes you feel like you've won the lottery every time you speak to her (not that speaking to her isn't already that much of a pleasure).

interjection, again:
a: it's like a guy's name so it's a double entendre pun!
j: silence, she is still typing
a: it's a puntendre!

so the thing is that as hypercritical as i am of instant communication, i have fallen victim to the immediacy of it all myself. the other day i was sitting by the fountain in dupont and felt the sudden urge to throw my cell phone in. then it could be like brasil again. but of course i didn't, because it's such a pretty little thing and it has a picture of my cat on the screen, and besides, wouldn't people get offended if i didn't return their calls?

i wish it was like when we were little again or before that, when if you wanted someone you walked to their house and asked if you could play. but nobody walks to anybody's house just to ask anymore. these days that's lame.

interjection, again again:
a: whenever i want to play with you, i will walk to your door, and i will say julia, juliUS, will you play with me?
j: silence, she is still still typing
a: is there nothing sacred, woman?!?!

defenestrate really is from the latin defenestra. i really am a nerd. but my name is not julius (though my great-grandfather's was, but he was not the one who was the telegraph operator). and i would not like it to be. julia is just fine. with an a, not an e, please. it is latin, not french. and don't worry...i'll still answer my phone.