Those of you who uset his journal as some sort of litmus test to gauge my emotional well-being will be happy to know that I am fine. I've been out of town on a whirlwind vacation to Portland and Newport visiting some very beloved friends. I have driven nearly seven hours getting home tonight and the last thing I want to do is type. More tomorrow.
Big news that came to me over the email is that the hippies moving into my place want to put their old school bus in my back yard, how's that for Vermont cred?
When I was little there used to be more opportunities to use your talents to win stuff without having to give out all sorts of personal info about yourself and get on a ton of spammy awful mailing lists. My Mom won a color TV for picking the name of the new restaurant being built at Logan Airport [her entry: The Logan Tower Restaurant at Logan Airport, way to go Mom!] back in the sixties. You know, those kinda "What's so great about beer in 25 words or less...?" thingies. Well, I won a sticker through sheer intellectual perseverance from the Ratbastard himself.
You can see my entry. It's the one about tying a pork chop to my ass. Now go look. An odd footnote to this story is that one of the other winning entries ["most politically incorrect entry"] was from the guy who was my link of the week last week, Mark Monolux. I have very real fears about becoming a net celebrity despite myself.
Today is my father's birthday and the anniversary of the Kennedy assassination. Out of the four people in my immediate family, three of us have birthdays on presidential assassinations, or assassination attempts:
||none ... yet
Every year when Mom's birthday rolls around, we all get a little jumpy.
Sure enough, it's me that's geographically deficient, not my entire generation. Everyone else who's bothered to chime in did significantly better than me on this European Quiz.
I haven't written much lately because what is there to say about having a cold? Big news this week is that I bought a ladder. Or rather, my business associate in Vermont [otherwise known as my husband] purchased one for for my place so that the hippies who are moving in for the month of December can put in sheetrock and install the ceiling fan. The only reason this is notable is it's another one of those jarring facts of home ownership -- ladders are expensive! Ten feet of wooden ladder will cost me about 7 hours of work, even at my insanely high paying librarian job. Of course, as my Mom says, it will last me forever or at least until I fall off of it.
This weekend I am hosting visiting librarians, which has so far involved spending a lot of time walking around Ballard saying "Gee, it usually doesn't rain buckets like it's doing now..." Compared to last weekend which was mostly the aforementioned retreat and intensive grantwriting, this is a decided improvement.
My European geography is terrible. I have no idea how I graduated from high school. I knew it was somewhat awful, but I thought my knowledge had picked up after I lived in Romania. Fraid not. And it's not like I just don't know all the former Soviet Socialist Republics or all the places that Yugoslavia turned into, I don't even really know where Germany is. I didn't even know Luxembourg was a country... To see if you are as dumb as me, try this quiz.
I have all this leisure time for online quizzes because I have come down with scurvy, or whatever that disease is that all the kids have nowadays... It leaves my brain just free enough for conversing with the cat and the computer. It's not so much having this walking sickness that bugs me, it's the endless advice everyone seems to have, as if only the people that aren't smart enough to try zinc, echinacea, hot baths, whiskey nightcaps, carrots, celery, comtrex, valium, garlic, chicken soup, Vitamin C and -- my personal favorite -- plenty of fluids, are the ones who get and stay sick.
Sometimes I only have time for unrelated anecdotes. Today I went to a strategic planning retreat and heard myself say the words "You can't pay the rent with joy." I found a nickel in my change older than my father. Usually at least one nickel in my pocket change is from 1964. I agreed to drive down to San Francisco with a friend I haven't spoken to in six months [not like I was mad, just haven't seen her] for the upcoming holidays. I had two beers last night and a screaming hangover-style ailment this morning. I have unplugged both my phones. My ankle is mostly better. Wintergreen in your bath can help pep you up on these grey Seattle afternoons. I need sleep even more than it seems like I do.
I have been getting all sorts of useful advice about my ankle: soak it, stay off of it, wrap it, exercise it, go to a doctor etc etc. My biggest problem is that while I attempt to be cool and try to stay off of it, P/Zesto is having some sort of climbing fiesta. She climbs on me, climbs on my clothes, climbs up and down the couch and generally shows off her working, if hairy, ankles. My biggest worry is that I will lose momentum in my break-on-through-to-the-other-side-of-winter program and will wind up in bed eating Cheetos and drinking malted mochas for the remainder of the season if I don't get busy now!
I twisted my fricking ankle again so I have been spending more time on La Net than usual. Here's a disclaimer from some software I downloaded today:
"Ok. I wrote these programs for my own use only, and the only guarantee that I care to give is that, running them on my own computer, and in my own house, will not lead to a nuclear holocaust which will destroy planet Earth. The programs and every file or program in This package are all supplied "as is", without any warrantee... You Use any and all of the files in this package entirely at your own Risk, and you put them on your computer at your own risk. You Supply them to your friends, acquaintances, spouses, partners, Enemies and mates, all entirely at your own risk. I accept no Liability for any loss or damage, including, but in no way limited To losses of a physical, mental, marital, social, economic, Financial, or of any other nature, whether or not of the same Kind as any of the aforesaid, in respect of the use or the purported Use of any of the files in this package, for any purpose whatsoever.
I do not even warrantee that the files and programs in this package will not kill you, Nor do i warrantee that they will not cause world war III, or damage the ozone layer Beyond repair."
Call me a rebel, I used it anyhow.
I must love my job -- I got up at 6:15 and was on the bus by 6:30. I think I'm just star struck by the fact that I get to pee in the always-clean bathroom that says "Women Faculty" on the door. There's also free donuts on Fridays.
Tomorrow I'm heading over to Capitol Hill for my first meeting with my group of Women Who Make Things. Part get-off-your-butt, part support group, we're all going to get together and mend our jeans, make candles, crack Martha Stewart jokes and get out of the house, except for Laura who will have to remain home.
I'm working with my free webspace on freespeech.org to try to put together a mini-movie about Buy Nothing Day. I am pretty bad with this digital video stuff, it may all turn out like stick figure death theater. While I'm on the subject of movies, my pal Len just won some award for his film Growing Hope, narrated by Sexiest Man Who Didn't Turn Down People Magazine, Harrison Ford.
It occurred to me today that I have .com , .edu , .org , and .net  email addresses now. I even use most of them, they don't just forward to each other. This is clearly trouble. It's not even that I lack a life or anything, at least I don't think so. What are the signs?
Speaking of, I just peeked over at the large white board calendar that I have and noticed that tomorrow is the first day in almost a month that is completely empty. I think that might mean I have nothing to do. Last time this happened I was sick and just lay in bed and read all day. It was nice, maybe I'll try to do that again tomorrow while I have the health to enjoy it.
I am trying to gain enough momentum doing weird miscellaneous projects [some of them even non-computer related] so that when I realize that I haven't seen the sun for weeks and weeks, I will not retire to my bed with a thermos of coffee and the encyclopedia to hibernate until Spring. Some projects include: volunteering at Left Bank Books; getting my sewing machine working; co-hosting a monthly open mike at the chai house down the street; bowling; playing pool and perhaps participating in a nutty salon of folks called Women Who make Things. Oh yeah, and reading until my eyes glaze over. And working on my new website
Got back from a Halloween party last night with a cat o nine tails in my pocket. I seem to recall someone flogging a satyr [one of my favorite costumes] with it. I certainly didn't use it.
Earlier in the day I had painted kids faces in Wallingford [in my cat princess disguise] using my slogan "Every kid a pumpkin!" It's really a wonder I could sleep at all after eating so much darned candy.
INDEX | Joe | Don the Ratbastard