is the word 'diary' better than the word 'blog'? probably not.
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A Bad Day Can Usually Be Worse. Plus: (Not So) Secret Other Blog.
A Bad Day Can Usually Be Worse. Plus: (Not So) Secret Other Blog.
I�m no Jack Bauer, but you know I lost my wallet and then was taken hostage by John Wayne in a Supershuttle. It was a bit of a bad day. Then, after my looong circling-around-the-fog flight, I had to make my way home on two public transit trains with two suitcases and a messenger bag during Philly commute hour. I had no cash but luckily had bought my transit ticket before leaving in December. On the train I am SO looking forward to getting home, dealing with my mail, hanging with Hans Blix (TCNTUNWI), watching some TV and maybe ordering some take-out. But when I get home there is no mail. The USPS is mysteriously holding my mail HOSTAGE. Plus, my house-sitter is STILL IN MY HOUSE! Or, rather, she is not there but all her stuff is, and the house is a total mess, and music is on, and all the lights are on, and my John Vanderslice CD is smashed on the floor! I stood there upset and confused for what must have been a very long time. Then I remembered I could call her cell phone. She was outside getting boxes. Turns out she was confused about when I was returning, even though I had left the information on the kitchen table. Well, what do you expect when you�re dealing with 20 year olds? They haven�t quite mastered all the life skills yet. She was not even aware of having smashed my CD!
She was mortified and apologetic and all that. So I left the house to go eat some food, because being hungry was not helping me be nice to her at all. Out here in suburban Philly we have lots and lots of Italian restaurants, and not much else. Next thing you know I find myself sitting at one of those tables that is round, where they pull the table out and then push it in after you, like in a movie with mobsters. Once I�m in there and they push the table back in on me, I look up and realize I am alone at a huge table facing a whole room full of couples at small tables? HELLO JILL. WELCOME BACK TO PENNSYLVANIA, WHERE YOU ARE ALONE, AND WE ARE NOT!
Oh well. I ate the shit out of some eggplant parmesan and spaghetti. And you know I�m not supposed to eat tomatoes so I was paying for that the next day, but who cares. It�s like how sometimes you just have to get drunk even though you know you�re going to have a headache the next day. Except the headache is in your bladder, which is worse. Having the use of reason doesn�t mean I�m always going to use it, OK?
I also went to the grocery store, which was good, because I was so tired the next day after all my meetings that I could not move and went to bed and slept for 12.5 hours and was happy to wake up in a house with fresh food.
Anyway, I get home from dining, the housesitter�s gone, the house is not at all clean, and I am realizing that I will have to rewash all the dishes in the house and do some deep cleaning� it�s OK, because I�m still really glad she could stay here so Hans Blix (TCNTUNWI) wouldn�t be alone all that time. And then I get this message from my sister about HER day, which was so much worse! I am going to paste her description of it in here because it is unbelievable! (background: she just moved to a new city and started a new job):
�everything that could possibly go wrong, went wrong. first off, I left the house without my glasses and realized it like right before I got on the freeway so instead of going back the way I came I thought I would try (emphasis on try) to take a shortcut. Well� I got lost TOTALLY LOST and couldn't find my way back to my house. Remember, I am driving without glasses at that point. hello! I finally found my way (you know how navigationally impaired I am...) home and got my glasses. I then get back in my car and go to work. I have to park like a million blocks away from my work and when I get there I realize I have forgotten my phone. Oh well. So I work all day, yadda yadda normal work day then on my way back to my car I trip and totally fall down and scratch up my hands and bruise my leg. When I finally get to my car I had left my lights on all day and the battery is dead. I walk to a seedy looking quickmart where some interesting looking fellows offer to jump my car but they have no cables. I do not either. So one of them lets me borrow their phone (remember, i forgot mine) to call Scott. He comes to get me and has AAA and stuff. So I go one more time into to my car to see if it will start and the alarm just starts going off in one very loud tone and never stops. Never. Until the AAA guy gets there to fix the battery!�
Holy Shitstorm!
Change of topic. During a few quiet cable-tv-watching evenings up at Roderick and James� place in SF, I made myself a profile on Myspace.com, because I keep getting requests from friends about that. (It is a funny thing to get requests from friends, asking that you be their friend, no?), but, hell, why not. So I have a page there now. www.myspace.com/alchemisty. And every now and then I write blog entries there. (I still hate the word "blog," but it's like I'm getting worn down by it. At first I would assiduously use a different word. But when you do that you then have to explain that you mean "blog." Argh.) Anyway, at first the entries at myspace.com were the same as this diary, just less frequent. But now they will be different (and much less frequent). You can go there and subscribe to the blog if you want to be like totally on top of every one of my public thoughts. I said public.
Last night I wrote about making noise-music out of the crazy windstorm attacking my building.
The Myspace blog has a comments function, which will make my cousin Adam happy. He wants me to add a comments section to my diaryland site, but that would require that I understand a few more things about HTML. And that would require TIME.
11:42 p.m. - January 15, 2006
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