Wednesday, July 31, 2002
I don't know what it is, precisely. I feel very on-edge and irritable today. Someone asks for a 'short coffee in a tall cup' -- expecting of course to pay for a medium coffee while filling the tall cup with milk, thereby making it a large coffee, damned cheapskate -- and I feel like reaching over the counter and ripping their spleen out.
Could be that this week has been hell on earth. Could be that on top of that, I have to go to "juror orientation" tomorrow. I am thirty-something years old and have thus far managed to dodge the jury bullet. After I moved to California I got a summons for my hometown in New York. When I moved to Oregon, I got a summons for -- you guessed it -- the place in California. I stayed in one place too long and the long arm of the law caught up to me. Oh well. As many true crime books as I've read -- and tales of justice gone horribly wrong -- I'm sure I'd make an excellent juror. And probably get myself excused by either prosecution or defense. Heh.
Tuesday, July 30, 2002
Nothing new to report. Still a knot of stress. It feels like it's been a week of Mondays and it's only Tuesday. Not fair.
Had an amusing enounter last weekend. Setting off on an errand, I got in the car and took the sun shade out of the windshield, tossing it in the back of the car. I then heard a rustling sound that just about scared me half to death. I looked in the back seat and see that the black and white tuxedo cat from the neighbourhood has managed to get itself through one of the open windows and was taking a cat nap on the floorboard in the back of the car. I coaxed it out and watched it safely run across the street to bathe (and attempt to restore its dignity). I started up the car and drove away alternately laughing and cursing the cat for giving me that kind of adrenaline rush that early in the morning.
Friday, July 26, 2002
A high-pitched, intermittent beeping every ten seconds for eight hours straight really has a way of wearing a person down.
The fourth book written, you're nevertheless the first chronologically. You not only describe the creation of Narnia and tell where the White Witch, the lampost and the wardrobe came from, you get to bounce between worlds with the help of Uncle Andrew's weird magic rings.
Find out which Chronicles of Narnia book you are.
Thursday, July 25, 2002
Met up today with an old friend from the Bay Area who was in town finishing recording her CD (she's a musician). It was good to see her and catch up. Had seen her fairly recently (maybe within the last year?) so there wasn't quite as much. She told me about a mutual friend's wedding last weekend, how his younger brother (whom I remember as a pimply-faced high schooler) now has a master's degree in Medieval History. Course, it was just as surprising to him when she'd told him that I have a blondish braid down my back past my butt -- hair grows a lot in eight years if you don't cut it.
Life keeps on keeping on....
Wednesday, July 24, 2002
Rollercoaster week # 3598640564....
Learned that my qualifications were "borderline" for the job I sent a resumé to and that I may or may not get a call for an interview. As it's been about a week since I heard this... I'm guessing not.
Yet more delays for house stuff... argh. This was supposed to be finished by the end of June. *tearing out hair*
Line in on an excellent job for Andra, except that it says the deadline to submit a resume / application was yesterday at noon. EXCEPT... there's a mistake on the website saying "Wednesday". So she is going to try to submit it anyway. Keep your fingers crossed.
Monday, July 22, 2002
Sigh! My comment system used to be lickety-spilt, but now that so many people are using enetation, it's making my site load verrrrrrry slowly. I may be ditching comments altogether. Just warning you.
Monday. Oh yes, it is definitely Monday. So many crises, so little time.
Friday, July 19, 2002
You don't need to remove the hard disks because each one stores a prodigious amount of data, from two or three on up to several dozen megabytes.
"Living with a Computer", circa 1982, from The Atlantic. It goes on to talk about the Osborne I, which seems to be the world's first portable computer, and 8" disk drives. Hurts my head.
Link cribbed from Julie.
Thursday, July 18, 2002
Courtesy of Lee's (Useless) Super Hero Generator I am:
The $6 million Princess Rmg'tpl
(Princess-Rmg'tpl, Princessrmg'tpl, Rmg'tpl Princess, Rmg'tpl-Princess, Rmg'tplprincess)
Power(s): Super-human hand-eye coordination, Shape-shifting, Empathy
Source of powers: Extra-terrestrial supernatural mutant
Weapon: Inertron Arrows
Transportation: Beta Elephant
Princess? Well, duh.
(Thanks, Thierry, for the link.)
Tuesday, July 16, 2002
Now for something lighter: it's that time of year again.
Are you scared yet? ...the US will have a higher percentage of citizen informants than the former East Germany through the infamous Stasi secret police. I sure am.
(Isn't it odd that every instance I have seen so far of this story being linked is hosted on an Australian news site? What, no US media outlet will touch it?)
Appropriately, I've got Exhuming McCarthy by R.E.M stuck in my head. Perhaps it should be Exhuming Hitler instead. It just gets better and better. (Can you hear the sarcasm in my voice from there? How about now?)
I just lost an entire week of precious time moving on my house refinance because the post office is staffed by a bunch of bodobos (that is to say, it should not take almost a week for a piece of mail to move within town). This is time I can't afford to lose. I'm under an immensely tight deadline as it is. (Anyone got a spare $1600 lying around? No? Didn't think so.)
Sometime between 7pm and 8pm last night, someone dented the door of my car. It's not a bad dent, but it definitely wasn't there when I pulled up in front of my house. Or should I say, in front of the house next door, since the people to the right of me seem to think its ok to line up their three cars along the street while not using their driveway at all. And if my car had been in its spot -- under the shade of the tree in my front yard -- I can guarantee I would not have a dent right now.
Universe, kindly stop dumping on me. Thank you.
Monday, July 15, 2002
Pet peeve: people who order coffee drinks in Starbucks terminology. It's the equivalent of AOL kiddie speak grating on the nerves of us old-time internet users; true coffeeshop and espresso bar baristas will sneer at and deride you for it even if they don't do it to your face. Take a moment, people, and read the menu. Ask questions if you must. I don't know what the hell you're talking about when you mumble "mochaccino grande" at me. I don't go to Starbucks; I'm running and working here.
Feeling a bit surly. Must be time for lunch. Grrrr. You know, I keep saying how busy I am, but what really pisses me off is having absolutely nothing to show for it. Most of the busy is in my head, distracting my thoughts, making me anxious and otherwise useless to get anything at all productive done. I have turned into the biggest procrastinator on the face of the earth. And I never ever exaggerate. It would help if I didn't have this overwhelming worry hanging over my head. I'll stay optimistic that things will get better soon because the alternative is too mortifying to contemplate.
Even if it has been almost a month since I turned in my resume for that kick-ass job. No news is good news, right? Sigh.
Our new roommate has been a godsend. She's cleaning our house, and rearranging furniture and belongings according to the principles of feng shui [say it: fung shway]. I tend to be pretty skeptical -- just call me Doubting Sandra -- but the Chinese have been using these principles for hundreds... thousands?... of years and so what the hell, I said, I'll roll with it.
Strangely enough? It seems to actually be working.
I still want that job.
Friday, July 12, 2002
Last year at this time, I was telling you about my evil fingernails and decimating a nest of near-hatchling yellowjackets and the contents of a thousand floppies. And, of course, awaiting word from a job interview for a job I eventually didn't get. That seems to happen a lot.
Thursday, July 11, 2002
As I listen to it for the second time today on the radio, I ponder how utterly unnecessary Joe Cocker's remake of INXS' "Never Tear Us Apart" is. It sounds like a karaoke experiment gone horribly wrong.
Come to think of it, does this man ever do original songs, or are they all remakes of hits by better bands? I hear it was 99 degrees yesterday. My house felt like an oven when I got home.
Still nothing about the job I really want. I am getting kind of sad.
Some people should just not wear pony tails. Certainly not fortysomethings trying to present a professional image.
Wednesday, July 10, 2002
It has been hellaciously hot hot hot here. Yesterday was 91 degrees F (33 degrees C -- yes, I waited for the sign to cycle around to C just for you!) and humid, and the air quality was just for shit. With July comes field burning -- I realize it's necessary for the cycle of grass seed production, but man, it makes the air so thick you can barely see the hills. I was only outside long enough to get down here and I was a sneezing, draining mess. Thank the heavens for Claritin samples. Today at 8am it was already hot. I shudder to think how high the temperature's going to get today. My poor garden!
On the sixth month anniversary of her disappearance.... we can still hope that Rachel will come home safely.
Monday, July 08, 2002
It's a small world... when your only employee gets dragged (uh, no pun intended) off to have his picture taken with one of the grand Marshalls of the 2002 SF Pride parade... at Sir Ian's request. (Darn, wishing that picture was there...) Who knew he had a thing for multiply-pierced Samoan-esque boys?
I can't believe it's been almost a week. I've been busy, then there was that holiday thing. No word on that job yet, any of the jobs applied for. (Argh!)
Anyway. I'm still here.
Tuesday, July 02, 2002
Well, sadly, I am not a millionaire this morning. Which is sad, because it really would have made certain stressful aspects of life much more uncomplicated.
Still no word on the job I submitted a resumé to. I spoke to a girl who's an employee and she said that she only knew of one other person (internally) who had also applied and they didn't have half the experience I had. I'm still hopeful... but feeling slightly impatient (as well as guilty about feeling impatient). What do I have to do to get their attention, march into Human Resources with a "Hire Me!" placard? (Oh, that would get their attention, all right.)
Tomorrow a job that Andra applied for closes -- which means, they should start sifting through those resumés. fingers crossed
Dreamt last night about sitting down to a breakfast feast at a house out in the country. I can't imagine where it could have come from or could mean...
Monday, July 01, 2002
There's a Native American-run casino downstate that uses "Luck Happens" as a tagline. Between Andra and myself, we found $17 completely randomly this weekend in our stuff. An item in a package I had had sent to me (of something I wasn't terribly attached to anyway) broke in transit... but it's insured for $100. Heh.
I have a ticket for Megabucks for this evening. Let's hope luck happens again.
