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Dear John

Saying goodbye is hard to do.
By Bhavna Singh
Johannesburg, 18 Jul 2006

This will be my last column in "The IT Girl" series for ITWeb. That will likely please at least one reader who commented that "reading my column was like having me stand in front of him blabbing away". That, my dear, is what women do. And in future, if you`re hesitant to click on something, rather don`t.

To the rest of the world, thank you for being less grating. I have endured such flattery as "you`re truly a stunning creature", based on the rather skilfully taken photo, shrunk to miniscule proportion above. Sorry people, technology is a fantastic thing, and although I can promise that Photoshop didn`t play a card this time, I do not look this way every day.

In fact, most days I crawl out of bed to the sound of a cellphone alarm, as many people do these days, unnerve myself in highway traffic and plonk my laptop on my desk resenting having to face the world. Until I`ve had some form of sugar (usually a Fanta Grape), I have trouble focusing on the laptop screen, and the dark eye-circles take up most of my face.

Pounding away at keys all day is something I know everyone can relate to. Don`t get me wrong, I love penning "sweet dingles" as another reader put it, but I would rather use an actual pen. In fact, my writing tool of choice is a Staedtler B2 pencil. Smooth and soft, words glide out of the carbon effortlessly.

I think I`m what is known as an old school writer. I love stacks of paper and the smell of old books on shelves. It upsets me that writers now behave as if they suddenly have no hands if their laptop batteries are dead. "Pick up a blasted pencil," I want to screech.

Don`t get me wrong, I love penning "sweet dingles" as another reader put it, but I would rather use an actual pen.

Bhavna Singh

It used to be simple. Writers would go to great pains to submit neatly written and subbed copy. Typesetters would then spend hours arranging the individual inverted metal letters. The giant printing machines would roll over giant sheets of newsprint and the odour of fresh ink would permeate the room. "Read all about it" became a coin phrase.

Nowadays, IT hiccups can cripple the media industry. And I don`t only mean online ramblings. Newspapers depend on digital cameras and supercomputers run the presses. Magazines would crumble if Photoshop didn`t perform at its best and online anything would kick the bucket if the Internet went bye-bye.

How many times have you heard it, and not just from the media, "Sorry ma`am, we cannot process your request at this time because we`re offline." Can the woman not just scribble it on a Post-it? What happened to good, old-fashioned, fishmoth-ridden, decaying, browning, fading paper?

"It`s in the loo-roll. Mounted next to the intelligent Japanese toilet that monitors what`s in your pee," says a smirking friend.

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