It's not quite like that, really.
You know those times you† send out a lengthy and hard-won work email, with careful wording that shows off your vast and varied vocabulary while maintaining readability, that hints at greatness and touches on the good of the company and all hinges on the concept that you attached the illustrative document... and you have to resend everything with some version of "Oops!" when someone@ says, "I don't see the attachment."
This reminds me of that.
[SUMMARY: Drawing on common experience to make myself feel less dorklike.]
Yesterday's post about knitting angst may have lost some of its oomph when you clicked the link to find yourself in a sterile grey house with sterile grey people staring out of different doorways while their sterile grey dog blends into their sterile grey carpet.‡
See, the Unhappy Hipsters blog isn't set up so someone with the technical acumen of a WWII vet§ can figure out how to link to an individual post. Only I didn't realise that until this morning.
[SUMMARY: I'm not as quick as I used to be.]
So, at the risk of infringing on copyrights,¶ I'm simply reenacting# the blogpost here so you can see what I really meant.
Trapped by the tawny palette, he struggled through yet another brown knit scarf.
(Photo: Randi Berez; Dwell, September 2005)
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): And by "you," I mean "I." You probably stopped doing that ages ago.
@FOOTNOTE (atted): For me, it's almost always the boss or the know-it-all from the 6th floor.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): I'd never noticed how morose Dwell Magazine is.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): That'd be me.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Something a saint should never, ever do.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Like some historical event. It's not stealing or infringing, it's reenacting.