Things Are Done, Between Naps
20 March 2000
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Things Are Done, Between Naps
20 March 2000
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9:14 PM: Bitch fight! Bitch fight!
"Just chill. I was on the damned ferry and couldn't do anything anyways. Sending a page doesn't automagically transport me to a terminal where I can fix things. I'm really getting tired of all the snide quips from all of you. Things would get pretty ugly if I constantly drew attention to all the little developer mishaps that have caused problems with both internal and live machines, so just stop."
Two days down, two days of not having to report in for jury duty. One more week and I'm goin' home! *bwwwing!* thud
St. Patsy's Day was all right. This business of one's neighborhood not really being cool anymore has its up sides. I don't even remember it, particularly, except that Sean came in having done his cultural duty and was babbling about how if the Fangs had any brains they'd turn the Examiner into a real tabloid, with Page 3 Girls and Page 7 Fellas (it is SF after all). Which is perfectly true but far too sensible.
Saturday, Saturday, what the hell ... oh! I remember. There was a surprise party for Anna that actually worked, which was the real surprise to me. Lacey had the clever idea to hold it a week before her birthday to allay suspicions. She did a bang-up job of decorating too - apparently there's some party supply store she found, where she got all kinds of wonderful objects: hinged cardboard hula girls, big inflatable toucans, plastic fish and paper palm trees. I must go. I thought the party might be a little weird, what with all and all, but it was not a problem - fun, relaxed, with punch & pizza rolls & all the good things.
Sunday I went to Union Square with Penny to look for books, neither of us having much luck. She was looking for a decent book on something called the NCLEX, which sounds like a stock exchange but is really some sort of nursing examination. I was looking for books on how to be a communist in a practical sense - i.e., model co-op agreements and suchlike. Nada on all counts, so much for Borders. I smell a niche!
I went looking for shoes while we were there and we all got very dizzy. Shopping hurts my brain. Things cost a lot for being shite.
Then over to Berkeley, because Babe: Pig in the City and Time Bandits were at the UC. Babe is such a sniffler - I heard the really heart-wrenching bits getting everybody around me, no matter how hip or cynical. "I'm not any sort of pie, I'm just a pig on a mission."
I've certainly been going to Berkeley a lot lately. Is it really because there's so much going on over there, or just because I'm in a rut? I don't know. It's for sure at least true that there's nothing like the UC over here. Oh to be rich.
Accidentally rich, I mean. Of course. Not through working, please. How left.
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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