WHERE IS CARRIE?
That's a game I used to play with my parents. Or rather, they played it with me. They would place their palms over their eyes and ask, "Where is Carrie?" then take their hands away and exclaim, "There she is!" while I sat on the floor oozing drool and trying very hard to keep my head from flopping around on my insubstantial neck. Again and again they wanted to play this inane game. But it amused them, so I didn't object. Also I was an infant. So I couldn't object.
The answer to that question nowadays is that I am on the other side of your screen. You know how if you dig a hole deep enough you'll end up in China? (If you start the hole in China, you end up in Scottsbluff, Nebraska. You may not believe me, but it's simple cartography, Deborah.) That's how it works with computers. I'm sitting here now with my hands over my eyes, asking over and over, "Where is everyone?!"
Send me a message so I can take my hands away from my eyes at last and exclaim, "There you are!"
Please. It's been so long. It's dark, and I'm so very hungry.