Spam Happens

Drinking: Republic of Tea Organic Ceylon

Reading: Sounds Like Crazy by Shana Mahaffey

I grew up eating Spam. When I was younger I had no idea what canned meat was. I just knew Spam tasted good fried up in the skillet in little cubes. I'd stab a cube onto each tine of the fork, feeling immense satisfaction that cannot be explained. My family liked it smothered in gravy and mixed with peas, but I preferred mine plain so as to better experience the flavor that is "pink meat."

I was thirteen years old when we got the Internet. I was blissfully unaware for awhile about hackers and things like that. Sure, I'd seen The 'Net with Sandra Bullock. But that was just a movie - overly dramatized for entertainment purposes only. Right? When the term "spam" started going around, I giggled uncontrollably, thinking "What a dumb term! Spam is awesome!" (I might be embarrassing myself here, considering I haven't eaten that crap in years.)

Anyway, there's not much point to this post except to say that my email account was hacked for the first time EVER and a bunch of people (including those in the publishing biz - it really wasn't me!) got spammed. If you are one of those people, I apologize! I have taken steps to fix it and hope it won't happen again.

Any time soon, anyway. I know better by now.