used to be that my head was haunted
Hello again. In no particular order, here's what I've been up to since that last depressing post:
(1) I met Kat for drinks on Friday and discussed, again in no particular order, the events of 9/11, thong underwear, our crazy families, Scrabble words that are used only within the context of Scrabble, housework and its gendered division of labor, nature programs, gastrointestinal distress, prejudice and racism, what constitutes an “authentic” reaction to art, and the amazing bargains that are to be had at Costco. We stopped at Silver Cloud to get some food and Kat ordered something called “Frito Pie.” That girl's mind lives in a mansion, her body lives in a condominium, but her stomach lives in a trailer.
(2) I bet you didn't know that there's a certification program for science editors. Well, there is, and on Saturday I went to WORK (groan) to proctor the examination, as a favor to the chair of the committee. This has been on my calendar for months. As such, I sent in the request for room set-up months ago to our facilities management people. I confirmed the room set-up a week in advance. I confirmed it again the day before. I thought I was being a pest, and even apologized when I confirmed it the second time, but the facilities people assured me it would be done. (You can guess where this is going.) I show up on Saturday, a bit worse for wear after Friday night, and the room is not set up. At all. The Rent-A-Cop in the lobby knows nothing, of course (not his fault), so I'm frantically moving furniture and gathering supplies in the half-hour before 12 nervous test-takers show up. Things went very smoothly after that, but boy, was I angry. I left several irate messages on the voice mailboxes of The Powers That Be, and now have the minor satisfaction of them all leaving me stricken and apologetic voice mail messages back. Oh, and they're not going to charge my budget for the room, obviously. FEAR MY WRATH, FACILITIES MANAGEMENT!
(3) I worried about war. I also renewed my years-long moratorium on television news. It's only going to be newspapers, web sites, and radio from here on out. (Here's another diarylander who feels ambivalent toward ribbons, candles, etc:
(4) I spent an astonishingly wonderful evening in the company of friends, eating dinner, looking at photographs, and talking talking talking. It helped.
(5) I got to see what the inside of my cat looks like. My cat has been having some litterbox issues, diarrhea and whatnot, and it hasn't been pleasant. Equally unpleasant was the fact that she's kind of overweight and long-haired, and her, um, backdoor hygiene wasn't quite up to par. Last night LT and I took her to the vet, and there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth as the vet felt her stomach and poked and prodded. Then they decided to do an x-ray, just to be safe, and the vet pointed out all of our cat's anatomy and a large amount of gas in her colon. So while it's a bit embarrassing to be told you have a Gassy Cat, it's good news that a shot of Pepcid and some withholding of food for 24 hours should fix her right up. We still don't know what could cause such distress in a cat. My theory is that she secretly ordered some bad shrimp tacos from one of the scuzzy taquerias down the street. Bad kitty!
(6) I watched the movie Hilary and Jackie, about the short and miserable life of cellist Jacqueline Du Pre, and while a bit overwrought it was overall a good, sad flick. I have a huge crush on Rachel Griffiths now (she also plays Brenda on that Six Feet Under show, if you're so inclined…I haven't yet been but now I may have to take a look).
(7) I started this stupid numbered list, which I am thoroughly sick of now.
Today's the birthday of Samuel Johnson. Go hug your dictionary.
—mimi smartypants, who loves to alphabetize