I held down the shift key to type something in CAPITAL LETTERS. I released it, but then saw that the letters were still in CAPS. The key wasn't stuck or anything but the internal signal seemed to be.
Every link I clicked opened in a new tab.
If I pressed any of the arrow keys in text areas, the text got highlighted :@
I had to use caps lock to remedy the unwanted capital letters and take it off to use caps.
Old-school-hitting-the-device-if-it-doesn't-work worked. MY shift keyboard is back to normal.
Jul 20, 2010
Jul 18, 2010
330
idle mind is four years old; a well-oiled/rusty devil's workshop?
thanks for all the fish, so far.
thanks for all the fish, so far.
Jul 10, 2010
A tale of two women
As the title suggests, this is a tale of two women who I saw/met. Both of them are equally least likely to hit the internet, and even if they do so, the chances of them reading this are very low. And even if they do, they wouldn't know who wrote about them, that is, if they realize it is about them.
The first one is a spinster who lives down my street. She has a small store, which she's probably named after her brother's daughter, whose name I never seemed to care about, which I refer to as maami kadai. On account of my absolute joblessness, everyday, it is my duty to buy milk for the household from that store. I go there and ask for 2 litres of milk. She gives me the packets, and I pay the cash. Then I ask her, "Cover irukka?". She looks at me like I'm a bug she wants to stamp, and then fidgets around to find any used covers, and if she doesn't find any, she takes out the smallest possible cover and squeezes the packets into it leaving no room for me to lift them by the handle. I have to hold the cold milk-stench covered bag in both hands and by the time I reach home, my hands stink and are numb with cold. The very purpose of giving a bag is defeated.
To avoid any further hassles, I've started taking my own bag.
I came across the second woman today in an "Art and craft" stall in some exhibition my mom asked me take her to. I saw this awesome wooden key chain in the shape of a native american with all the tribal face paints and all.
I am a sucker for key chains.
There were only two remaining and I picked one up. I looked up to see the lady who saw over the stall come up to me. I told her "I'll take this". And she nodded and gave me a smile, put it in a cover and gave it back to me. Before we could pay, my mother saw this wooden pen stand. the front of it had a wolf's head resting on a big chief carved into it. It was beautiful. I told her we'd take that too, and she smiled again, like someone appreciating the choice I made. She was 27/28, pretty, and had this genuine smile on her face.
I'm a sucker for a pretty girl's smile.
She didn't bother us with her details and marketing speeches. She smiled. AND she gave us two covers and even suggested that I put the smaller one into the bigger one. I waited for my mom to pay her and turn around and begin to leave, took the cover and looked at her. She smiled and nodded, I grinned, and I left.
The thing is, I have to buy milk daily, and not wooden key chains.
The first one is a spinster who lives down my street. She has a small store, which she's probably named after her brother's daughter, whose name I never seemed to care about, which I refer to as maami kadai. On account of my absolute joblessness, everyday, it is my duty to buy milk for the household from that store. I go there and ask for 2 litres of milk. She gives me the packets, and I pay the cash. Then I ask her, "Cover irukka?". She looks at me like I'm a bug she wants to stamp, and then fidgets around to find any used covers, and if she doesn't find any, she takes out the smallest possible cover and squeezes the packets into it leaving no room for me to lift them by the handle. I have to hold the cold milk-stench covered bag in both hands and by the time I reach home, my hands stink and are numb with cold. The very purpose of giving a bag is defeated.
To avoid any further hassles, I've started taking my own bag.
------------------
I came across the second woman today in an "Art and craft" stall in some exhibition my mom asked me take her to. I saw this awesome wooden key chain in the shape of a native american with all the tribal face paints and all.
I am a sucker for key chains.
There were only two remaining and I picked one up. I looked up to see the lady who saw over the stall come up to me. I told her "I'll take this". And she nodded and gave me a smile, put it in a cover and gave it back to me. Before we could pay, my mother saw this wooden pen stand. the front of it had a wolf's head resting on a big chief carved into it. It was beautiful. I told her we'd take that too, and she smiled again, like someone appreciating the choice I made. She was 27/28, pretty, and had this genuine smile on her face.
I'm a sucker for a pretty girl's smile.
She didn't bother us with her details and marketing speeches. She smiled. AND she gave us two covers and even suggested that I put the smaller one into the bigger one. I waited for my mom to pay her and turn around and begin to leave, took the cover and looked at her. She smiled and nodded, I grinned, and I left.
----------------
The thing is, I have to buy milk daily, and not wooden key chains.
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