[abada abada]

lynx link

Jessamyn is in...


DC folx


found in logs


May Day

the real labor day
kent state
learn something
Oly event


01jun00...Sarah visit
02jun00...Kate visit
09jun00...David visit?
15jun00...scary reunion
4jul00...paint barn


Jan : Feb : Mar : Apr


Jan : Feb : Mar : Apr
May : Jun : Jul : Aug
Sep : Oct : Nov : Dec


Jan : Feb : Mar : Apr
May : Jun : Jul : Aug
Sep : Oct : Nov : Dec


Jan : Feb : Mar : Apr
May : Jun : Jul : Aug
Sep : Oct : Nov : Dec


Leaving to go to "work" this morning -- actually a friend's living room in Montpelier where I can do my tech support job without making long distance calls to get to my ISP -- I heard a loud clunk. I stopped and inspected only to find out that my muffler had fallen completely off! A new muffler isn't a super-big expense, and mufflers aren't strictly necessary in Vermont, but it got me thinking what I would do if I had to do without my car in Vermont. Or, rather, what I wouldn't do:

  • no food shopping [nearest general store, 5 miles. nearest real store, 15 miles]
  • no mail [post office, five miles]
  • no movies [12 miles]
  • no friends [nearest friend, 17 miles. no, the roofers and Jackson do not count]

Granted, there is a mountain bike in the barn, and hitchiking is practically safe around here, and I do expect to make a few more friends by the end of the summer, but it's interesting to me how coming to the country to get away from it all can actually create an increased reliance on technology [like cars], unless you really want to go whole hog and get a horse or something.

I am having some sort of July 4th weekend event at my place here. If you'd like to be on the invite list, just email me.


[ORANGE DOOR!!!!!] I have been adopted by my roofers. The good roofers. Not only did they not fill the propane tank with beer, they have insinuated themselves into my life to the point where they are mowing my lawn and bringing me cookies. This is the same thing that happened to my Mom in rural MA where she lives. One day she woke up to find her lawn had been mowed while she slept. The oddest thing about this is not that it happened, but that it could have been done by any one of three of her crazy-lawn-mowin' neighbors. And that it happens all the time.

I entered into a deal with my roofers where they get to use part of my barn for storage of roofing materials and a small phone and file cabinet set-up. In return, I get work done regularly around the place and a few extra people looking out for the place. This is good because my Crazy Neighbor Jack has decided to stop speaking to me, perhaps because I do not wish to breed with him? Check out the groovy door they put in. They just happened to have a few extra gallons of orange paint...


Two nice images from yesterday:

[loads so slow as to render it unusable]..........[rained all damned day]

And two caveats: the rainbow is a result of an entire week of torrential downpours; Red Hat is so slow [on my 486, maybe my bad?] that I can eat dinner while waiting for xwindows to load.

Today I'm aiming for the final Vermont Confluence, a day of extreme housecleaning, and maybe some late evening bread baking.


[HOME office!!!] Today is my first work from home day -- as opposed to work from my Mom's home or work from my Seattle home -- please enjoy the picture of my home office.

I drove up last night with the cat in the car. After I had finally adjusted to driving with her under my feet [for you non-drivers, this is precisely where the stop and go pedals are, somewhat nervewracking], I had to stop and get something to eat. Abandoning all better judgement, and it being late at night for Vermont, I settled on some fries at McDonalds. As we all know, McDonalds is the last refuge of the damned, and I was to regret my decision. As I was eating, feeling awful for whatever small pittance I had donated towards the McLibel case, or the deterioration of rainforests, I suddenly had a vision of losing P/Zesto by having her escape when I got back to the car -- feeling that this would be divine judgement for my fall from no-fast-food grace.

I got back to the car and P/Z was fine and pretty mellow. I reached for her as I put the key in the ignition. She was fine until the ear-piercing you-have-your-door-open-and-the-keys-in screech began. Then she bolted. Then I was running across a nearly empty Vermont McDonalds parking lot at 10 pm, feeling that I had already been here. She regained reason -- not being much of a dumpster rat killer -- and returned with me to the car, and to Vermont. I have learned my lesson.


For the last two days I have assumed any twinge in my abdominal area was the result of bug-eating.

Sometimes I don't update anything here because there's too much going on, instead of not enough. The last few days have been feeling like the cliffhanging episode in the so-called thriller that is [not] my life

Will Jessamyn return to Vermont to find that her deck has floated away and the roofers have filled the propane tank with 300 gallons of beer?

Is Jessamyn ever going to get all of her paperwork separate from that of her ex-husband's [latest embrangle: AAA membership]?

Are there any long-term effects of riding six roller coaster style rides in 90 minutes [free pass to Six Flags, bad weather, empty park, surgical strike]?

Could Jessamyn's upcoming houseguest be the creepy stalker her friends are always warning her about?

Who will post the pictures of the ratbastard's party first [hint: not me]?

When will Jessamyn's hair grow out long enough so that she stops looking like a a runner-up in the Duran Duran look alike contest?

Where in the hell is Jessamyn's mail?


Today I went to Bugfest 2000 on the National Mall today and ate bugs with orzo for lunch. And I'm not talking about seasoned mealworms either, these things had six legs, big heads and were very crunchy. That was the high point of today, so far. My pal Eileen did not eat any bugs but was very supportive with accompanying eye-rolling motions and grossed out exclamations of "yuck!" which is all you're after when you're eating bugs, really.

The ratbastard had a very nice party last night. Pictures forthcoming.


[another lovely twilight in VT] I'm back in the land where Korn is played right after the Grateful Dead on the pop music station. I went into town today, not because there was anything I particularly needed, but because I just couldn't wait to put a quarter into a parking meter and have it return five hours of parking goodness. I also stopped by The Pool Store [they sell pool tables and swimming pools, of course] to see if I can get them to repair my hot tub and/or replace it with a wood fired one [answer: no, unless I want to get one that's fiberglass].

My house is still a bit messy -- roofers do not completely depart until next Monday since I'll be in DC til then -- and there is a leech-infested swamp where my backyard used to be, but it's quiet at night and the barn is still standing.

I've driven a car more in the past two days than I have in the past month.


The woman next to me on the plane had luggage tags that said Lab Animal Management Association and she was eyeing P/Zesto appraisingly as I poked her through her travel bag to make sure I hadn't killed her with a kittie tranquilizer overdose.

Note to self: even though it feels like there is no more beautiful place on the entire earth than Boxboro Massachusetts in the springtime, please remember that you also said this about Seattle in January, and Vermont in September, and Austin in March. You are just mixed up, but it's nice to know you're happy.

Cisco is moving some of their big hq buildings to this town and the rumors going around concern Cisco executives driving around Harvard [the next town over] and getting out of their cars asking people who are living in good-looking houses if they would consider selling their houses to them. Please note that these houses are Not Otherwise For Sale.

My mother said she had one of the best Mother's Days she can remember today. I'm glad to have been a part of that.


[the things we do for company....] Outwardly I seem and feel relaxed, but I know there is something not quite right.

I leave tomorrow and am spending today holed up packing and moving stuff around so that Super Magnetic Wizardman can have the run of the place for the summer. I'm also having people over tonight [are you in the area? want to see the Fight Clubhouse? come on over!] to say goodbye so I was trying to light some incense in the middle office room. It's that weird kind of fifty-cent incense where you have to split the sticks apart to fit them into the tiny hole of the incense holder. I had already lit the match when I realized this. So I did what I do whenever I don't have enough hands for the job in front of me -- put one item in my mouth. In this case, since I had to split the incense with both hands, I just put the lit match into my mouth.... waited a half-second ... and thought WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING??

I am now keeping a closer eye on myself. Contact info for me for the next few months will be here. Please wish me luck getting P/Zesto safely and happily cross-country.


I didn't mean to imply that the valets had stolen my camera, just that they parked the car in an unknown location.

You know that word problem about the socks? If you have a bag of 15 white socks and 12 black socks, how many socks do you need to pull out to guarantee that you will have a matching pair? I have amended this word puzzle to fit the Jessamyn Universe:

If I have a bag in my room that has 48 socks among which there are seven monkey socks [two varieties], ten athletic socks, five rag wool socks [natural], three argyle socks [which don't match], four socks loosely classified as "blue", one sock puppet, two aquasox, four old man ankle socks [varying from grey to black to brown], two tie-dyed socks, two knee-high black socks from a hopeful ex-boyfriend, one sock with pawprints on the bottom [xmas present from my Mother's cat], four more rag wool socks [colored] and three socks with holes in them, and the power has gone out in my room, how many socks will I have to pick out before I should really just go do my laundry or buy some new socks? And what color are the bus driver's eyes?

This is just a long way of saying that I did laundry and every sock that does not have a match will henceforth be thrown out the window or used to fill cracks in the walls.


I regret to inform everyone that there are no pictures of Sean Penn forthcoming. There are also no pictures of me in a floor length dress. No pictures of Sharon Stone or Gary Snyder either, though there are images of all of them in my brain from the wedding this weekend. My mom's rental car, and my knapsack with the camera were spirited away by the valet parkers before I knew what was happening. There were a zillion other digicams. I'll let you know if I get any interesting images in email.

I left SF this morning. One Muni, one BART, on airBart, one Alaska airline and two metro busses later I am home sweet home & heading to bed.


Went over to see Ben and Kara and their new son Ari the other day. I don't know if I've ever had close friends who have had children before. Hanging out with them was enjoyable because they were totally into talking about the home birth, the baby, and what it's like to be new parents, warts and all. I also got to see the placenta and the umbilical cord. I did some dishes [want to help someone who has just had a baby? go over and clean their house!] and talked breastfeeding for a while.

I had my last day on the job yesterday. I start my virtual job on Tuesday. Too bad, too, since everyone in the office just got instant messenger [AIM: pastamici] and fun was had. After work, I kinda wandered off and into the Seattle Art Museum which is free on first Thursdays. They have an education room on the fourth floor which looks closed, but is really open when the museum is open. Inside there's all sorts of hands-on projects and things to interact with. There's also a TV and VCR and a ton of movies about artists. It looks like maybe you're not supposed to mess with it, but upon closer inspection, that's exactly what it's for. People auto-surveill themselves right out of that room "geez, I bet I'm not supposed to be here..." I settled down to watch some Diane Arbus. The room has floor to ceiling widows [unlike most of the rest of the museum] and faces west. People would stand outside the room and look in and see me alone in there and not know if they could come in or not. Some did, most did not. I silently cheered the ones who did. It was a great place to watch the sunset and a great place to learn about one of my favorite photographers....

"Everybody has that thing where they need to look one way but they come up looking another way.... you see somebody on the street and essentially what you notice about them is the flaw.... if you've ever spoken to someone with two heads, you know they know something you don't." -- Diane Arbus

My travel plans are awkwardly online. If you are going to be near someplace I am going to be let me know.


[i can't help it if everything around here is orange!] As I was walking home from another long and slightly frustrating day on the job, I passed the old man who makes his home in the doorway by the laundramat. He has a bunch of gear there but I had never inspected too closely because he was always sleeping when I went by. Tonight he was sitting up with his dog. He asked for some food but all I had in my bag were chicken products and he was allergic to chicken. As I got closer and said hello and pet his dog, I realized that he was surrounded by boxes and boxes of beads of all kinds and was making jewelry at 11 o'clock at night. I said a few words and then said goodnight and started off and he said "Wait ... here," and put a small turtle pendant into my hand. "The turtle is a strong medicine spirit. It takes a long time getting to where it's going," he said "but it takes everything in along the way."


[you may remember this as the same color I painted the cupboards] Today is May Day and if you don't know what that means it's because you specifically have not been paying attention so I will spend no more time preaching to the converted and/or the uncaring. I started out an email reply to a customer today with the sentence "We do not suck." I think maybe I was feeling a bit defensive.

This may be because I had such a lovely day painting my kitchen countertop [made of plywood] red. Bright red enamel red. I don't know what hit me. I am going to a wedding in CA this weekend and my sister mailed me a dress to wear [thanks Kate!] so all I needed to do to be presentable was bathe and find some shoes. I scared up a pair of semi nice I-can't-describe-them-because-I-don't-know-shoes-but-they-do-make-me-taller shoes that I last wore to my library school graduation. I put them on to break them in. Still wearing my pajamas. Then I felt completely ridiculous and felt I could improve matters by getting paint in my hair. So, dressed in heels, PJs, and my Porsche engine t-shirt [which I only wear for painting and I always wear for painting] I sanded and painted the countertop as well as the door to the pantry.

My mother says that by the time you hit 50 you have the face you deserve. I am starting to believe that by the time you hit 30, you may have the house you deserve. I realized that as I was peering through a hole in the wall of the bathroom and wondering if it went all the way outside and realized that the last time I had had a similar thought was in my bathroom in Vermont. How many houses have you been in where you wonder if they will fall and crush you while you sleep? I live in two of them. This is not accidental.