Sunset Maunderings
30 April 1999
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Sunset Maunderings
30 April 1999
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7:07 PM: Another farewell party, another keg of beer. It's just a crime, really it is. The suffering. The disorientation. The ... other thing that I forget.
Got a fax back from the booking agency connected to Worldcon3 today - hotel reservations are mine! $99 a night, it says here. Be nice if those were Australian dollars, but I don't think so. Just have to buy a cheaper brand of crack for a while, I guess.
Oh fuck me, a passport. I forgot again. Better get to that right now, no telling how long it's going to take to be processed. Stupid punk kids that stole my old one, anyway. Had all my old travel stamps in it, including a receipt for $13 worth of old Czech korunas that were confiscated when I left the country. Why, with interest, who knows what that's worth nowadays! Maybe close to $14!
I wonder when it's going to sink in. Probably when I have to pack. Not like that will be hard. Algorithmic simplicity: (13 days X (1 T-shirt + 2 socks + 1/2 underwear)) + (round(13 days/7 days)*1 pair jeans). Half an underwear because you can wear boxers two days in a row.
Meanwhile, weekend beckons, I should be sending out first-round invitations to my birthday party next weekend but I'm strangely reluctant. Not that strangely I suppose. People. Brrrrrr, scary. You disagree? Take a look at this.
9:27: Had a conversation with some of our higher-up types today. About all the implications of changing our own stock into our new stepdad's stock, whenever that actually happens. It's nothing earth shattering, but better than cold toast and Vegemite. It will be nice if all the dust settles before Melbourne time in September, just to help out with the money squeeze a bit.
Hey, look at that. I'm all done. How responsible and stuff. Awfully early to start drinking, though. Especially since I already did, oops forgot about that. Oh well, another cross for me to bear.
Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.
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All names are fake, most places are real, the
author is definitely
unreliable but it's all in good fun. Yep.
© 1998-1999 Lighthouse for the Deaf. All rights reserved and stuff. The motto at the top of the page is a graffito I saw on Brunswick Street in Melbourne. | ||||
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