Two Years

We are always acting on what has just finished happening. It happened at least 1/30th of a second ago. We think we're in the present, but we aren't. The present we know is only a movie of the past.
-- Tom Wolfe

Saturday, May 8, 1999
One year ago: One Year

Two years! I talked a year ago about how I got started doing this. Today I think I'll do a look back at past entries. Look in tomorrow's entry for a report on the weekend.

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I like coming in on the middle of a journal and going back to the beginning and reading till I reach the present. It's like time travel, getting closer and closer to the present. I get a kick out of being Miss Helpful. The Texaco guy called me at work and gave me the bad news: transmission rebuild. I didn't have a big party, but we did celebrate a bit between movies. He took one more step, and plop! What makes them Trollsylvanian is the tuft of yellow troll hair that sticks up from the top.... I am picky and hard to please... I think this was the first time I met in person with people whom I got to know online. I think it's my INFJ personality that makes me write more about what is happening than what I am feeling.

You don't have to take the driving test again, and they don't yell at you! When you meet a new group in real life, your old stories are new again. When people heard that we were taking care of our parents, they would be very admiring. There were lilies and herbs growing beside the steps we were sitting on, those rubrum lilies that no perfume can reproduce. Blackberries are a terrible scourge in Seattle, but at least they have nice fruit. They zipped across the sky in a satisfying way. One of the events of the con was a mail art show, run by Rudi Rubberoid.

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I've been outed as a net nag. Jon has the valuable quality of laughing at my witty remarks, which speaks well for his intelligence and good taste. They say a gentleman never is rude unintentionally, and I try to live that way. Part of the cacophonous mindset is to keep one's eye out for potential site venues. I really think it would be fun to have one eyepiece that shows you the screen, and a twiddler input device that is a chording keyboard (pressing key combinations allows one-handed typing) and a three-dimensional mouse, both at the same time. There were the stilt walkers, the big-headed aliens, the misguided man who put a real pumpkin over his head.

There is nothing like a bit of pain to make one appreciate its absence as a wonderful feeling. Why is it that your bed feels so much more comfortable when you wake up than when you go to bed at night? I'm always pleased to be asked to "go with." My mom and dad, who didn't communicate with each other very well at that time, each decided separately the next year to get me -- a clock radio!

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Did I mention that my Christmas present from my sister was an offer to come over and take my laundry over to her house and do it for me? The walk back to the hotel took me behind the courthouse and police station, and by the cop bars and bailbond establishments. Jason and I traded questions, both personal and hypothetical. I chose the smaller, bluer bowl.

To Jason, my disappointment meant that I was taking things too much to heart, too personally. So we burst into his place and told him why we would have grabbed him, if it had been possible. This was disappointing, of course, and especially irksome because he didn't let me know as soon as he knew he wouldn't be feeling up to it. I tried to explain fandom to MD, but I knew I hadn't done a good job when he said it sounded like a big chatroom!

I got the urge to begin Anita's BOD because of the journals I was reading. Like the Marschallin in Strauss's Rosenkavalier, I feel like the same person inside as when I was a young girl. They were stunned by my generosity, I guess! I had coffee today with someone new, Jack. Jon and I must share our parking philosophies: he agreed enthusiastically with my suggestion that we park about five blocks away from the restaurant, because there were some easily accessible spaces there. He did an art attack on Luke, spraying him with silly string when greeting him.

During our conversation, I was shocked to learn that "Tom" is married! Those antihistamines really knock me out! He was just great, but it was soon evident that I should have brought earplugs. One of the difficult things about helping someone who is dying is that the situation is always changing. I love our boss when he is being difficult!

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It's just like washing the car if you want it to rain; expecting a call? Get in the tub and the phone is sure to ring! So I dressed myself in my new black skirt (brocade-like fabric, short) and black lace top, and walked down the hill. Of course, Jack had a system, a way that he likes to do the fair. I was able to find the book I was looking for quickly, by the simple expedient of asking the girl that was working there where it was. The old customs of mourning had a lot of good things about them. Bluejack's vegetarian proclivities have gone by the wayside, he admitted.

Actually I think Waters has always had this kindly way of looking at the weird things he loves. We drove up a two-lane or no-lane road that gradually curved its way up to the top of the valley. It would be so cool to have a dream recorder. No wonder he was amused when I used brown packing tape on the gifts I gave him the other night!

It magnified the annoyance of watching TV while someone else has the remote by about ten times. I made a point of asking some of the beginner leads to dance. I do enjoy it when I say something that gets a good reaction in our team meetings. I had dinner with the developers tonight, Indian food, spicy and good. All February holidays rolled into one. Towels, candles, sheets, tchotkes piled high, with aisle after aisle of stuff and more stuff. It was written and designed by Dr. Seuss, and you can really tell.

We drove around the actual downtown of Olympia, stopped at a used bookstore and a pawn shop, and got Jack some of his favorite coffee from the local-based roaster that he likes. They danced fast, talked quickly, and presented the material in a rush. I want to be in the intermediate level! Who could have predicted the level of specialization possible in a commercial website? I sliced the polenta into a glass bowl, poured the cheese and oil over it, and nuked it for several minutes. I'm pleased with myself for having had the forethought to actually send the money in early!

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So there you have it: a fast-forward through two years of Anita's Book of Days. I expect I'll keep on writing; I still enjoy it very much, and I love to hear from readers.