In Which Ella Loses the Internet

I haven’t had proper Internet in four days, and it’s freaking me out, in the same stupid way that I get anxious when I don’t have a notebook with me or we’re out of orange juice. Suddenly, all I can think about is desperately needing what I don’t have. It doesn’t matter if it isn’t necessary for survival, I just yearn for them with the same passion I feel for my bed or air.

Yes, it’s selfish and foolish and whole other slew of incredibly negative attributes, but I can’t help myself. My normal habit of looking something up the moment I’m curious has been compromised and not knowing which Civil War battle involved a deadly trench created with explosives makes me incredibly anxious. My solar plexus tightens, I feel as if I’m going to hyperventilate, and I am physically uncomfortable for hours on end. (If anyone has the answer, please post it in the comments. I am waiting on tender hooks.)

And in a way, the denial of the object only increases my gratitude for it when it returns.

“Darling bottle of orange juice,” I’ll say, “You must never leave me alone again. I love you and your perfect sweet and tart taste, and your yellow hue was crafted by God himself. We were made with each other in mind. I miss you with my whole heart and simply can’t get on without you. Let’s hide out in the kitchen and toast the miracle of oranges with big tumblers filled with your beautiful nectar.”

Alright, I won’t really say that. I start laughing the moment anyone so much as says soul or begins a long declaration of love.

(I mean, cut to the chase, will you? I don’t need to hear about your yearning heart or that you think your love is like a haiku. Make it short and to the point, cut the Romantic Era pontifications, the ridiculous sonnets, and read Billy Collins’ “Litany” before I come in contact with you again.)

But I will spend a long time feeling happy and thankful and be very slow and through about enjoying whatever I’ve gotten back.

So Internet, we will spend hours researching the discovery of Kimodo Dragons and looking up articles on Syria when we return and be exceedingly happy about the time we’ll spend together. Get ready.

In the meantime, I’m indulging in something that never requires so much as electricity: reading. I’m going to have to ask you to whisper while I lie in bed with Max and flip through the pages.

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7 thoughts on “In Which Ella Loses the Internet

  1. You were probably thinking of the Battle of the Crater, but dynamite was not invented by Alfred Nobel until 1867.

    Komodo dragons. Kimono Dragons would be bad both for the kimonos and the Dragons. The other dragons would mock them.

    “Soul!”

    • Yeah, that sounds right. I’m guessing that they used dynamite for the explosion then. It was a spectacularly bad idea, thorough. They turned it into a slaughter pit.

      Whoops! This is what happens when I blog via by text message! It’ll be corrected as soon as I get Verizon to fix our dang connection.

      Hahaha! Not soul!

      Sent from my iPhone

    • How peculiar! I’ll have to fix it then. I wonder why that is. Cecelia and I were just speaking about the “d” and “t” sounds often being used interchangeably in the general American accent.

      Sent from my iPhone

      • In the production of wool cloth, washed wool had to be hung out to dry. To avoid shrinkage, it was hung on the hooks of a frame. This frame was called a tenter, and the hooks are tenterhooks.

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