Reliable public transit is a godsend. It is smooth, efficient, and lets you read lots and mellow out instead of stressing at the other insane drivers on the road.
But unreliable public transit is a living nightmare. This morning, my little half-hour BART ride from the East Bay to South San Francisco took 70 minutes. Why? Because there were THREE separate blockages of the line. 1) a smoking car. glad I wasn't in it. 2) a medical emergency on the train (okay, that one, they couldn't do a damn thing about, so I don't blame them for it). 3) a train ahead of us that just wouldn't go, and they couldn't figure out why. Argh. I missed the last shuttle to work, had to get back on BART and go all the way down to Colma station instead (end of the line), take the 22D bus as close as it went, and then walk half an hour to get to work. I could have taken a cab for only $15 or so, but I didn't have it on me and I was too irritated anyway. At least I have a bus pass so it didn't cost me any extra.
I had a lot of plans for what I was going to get done this morning. Instead I read _Analog_. (But at least I wasn't driving, I suppose.)
David asked if I were angry about the Karin Hanssen stuff. I was mostly just bewildered; less so now that I know a little more about what it was. Here's an explanation lifted straight from e-mail from Columbine, who will hopefully forgive my being too lazy to rephrase it all:
"How far did you follow through on that Sunsite link? It's actually a very interesting little art project. I think you should be flattered that yours is one of the many homepages she has chosen to appropriate. Here is where you'll find the real Karin Hansson: http://www.art.a.se/karin/change.html
And here is where her cycle of appropriated homepages begins (the only one which actually tries to explain the joke at all): http://sunsite.kth.se/art/96/hans/home.html
(By the by, if you stay there, a new one will load every thirty seconds.) On another, older page, she makes the usual comments about the web changing the face of information (see the final paragraph). http://sunsite.kth.se/art/96/hans/"
So, it's art, and I'm willing to suffer a little confusion in the service of art. I do wish she'd contacted me first and let me know about it, but since I guess she did this in 96 and it's taken this long for me to notice, it's not a big deal.
Heck, for all I know, she did ask, and I've just forgotten about it.
I am having too much fun speculating about what I might put on the CD. Possible thoughts currenty include:
A Jewel of a Woman
Minal in Winter
Confessions of a 26-year-old Female Porn Writer
And if, in some strange country
Prayer for Safe Haven
With Ocean Waiting Below
You'll Understand When You're Older, Dear
Thoughts? Comments? I'm finding that I'm reluctant to include too much from before 1998...I just think the writing has improved since then. Maybe I'm wrong, though. And it's really more important what you guys want to hear.
I'm feeling better today than yesterday. I threw a little hissy fit at Kevin on the phone last night, blaming him for all sorts of frustrating things with my job situation. Luckily, I came to my senses before I went too overboard, but it was a clear indication that I was too tired to be rational. So I went to sleep at 8. Probably took me about twenty minutes to actually fall asleep that early (usually I'm out in five or so), but I slept like a log once I was out. (Except for one little phone call interruption, but we won't name names :-). I had set the alarm for 5, planning to be all virtuous, but instead staggered out of bed, turned it off, and slept another two hours. I felt *much* better once I got up (and notice, I didn't fall apart during the public transit crisis this morning. Sleep is a wonderful, blessed thing).
I did manage to revamp my tech writing resume this morning, and sent off a few resumes, including one to someone who wants to interview me later this week. Woohoo! It's contract work, which I'm much more comfortable with than a full-time position. Come in, do their manual, get out. Sounds perfect. And I talked to a recruiter who says that tech writing jobs have been in a slump for a bit, but have started showing up again recently -- maybe that explains why I had such a rough time looking for work in Dec/Jan. I feel better about it all.
Jed informs me that the restaurant I mentioned yesterday is actually Aperto. I think I was mixing my Spanish (minimal) and my Italian (almost nil).
My boss brought a really stunning orchid in to work yesterday, and it's really brightening up our cube. It's one of the tall elegant one, with large white blossoms, five-petalled. I looked around the net for a picture, but couldn't find one. There are a *lot* of different kinds of orchids.
I never used to like them much; I thought they were kinda funny- looking. Kevin also thinks they smell a little strange, like they're rotting, but I'm not sure where he gets that idea. But lately, I've gotten more and more fond of them.
Stephen (the boss) told me that orchids are supposedly the most evolved flower. I'm not sure what that means, but I can believe it. They certainly seem to be the most delicate -- the amount of care they need is just amazing. I can't imagine ever having the patience to raise them; give me something nice and sturdy, like pansies. I can handle growing pansies. Or alyssum -- just scatter the seeds and watch it grow. We still have tons of alyssum in our garden from last year -- it's lovely. Not sure if we'll have to root it out -- it's surrounded by oxalis (the clover-ish weed), and I don't think we can take out the oxalis without taking out everything else. That's a decision for Ellie, though -- I'm leaving the flowerbeds in her care this year, and sticking to herbs, tomatoes and peppers.
Shmuel thinks that it wouldn't really mesh with the CS image to offer nude photos of the editors -- that's more a Scarlet Letters style thing. I agree, although it's really pretty irrelevant, since I am too my of a coward to send such a photo of me to a total stranger anyway. I don't really mind a single total stranger having it -- it's the thought of that person then scanning it in and putting it up on the web that terrifies me.
Maybe I could cope with having a nude of me in a serious art exhibit. Maybe. Otherwise, I don't think so. Heather's right. I *am* a prude.
Well, this entry is probably long enough. Oof. Will talk to you tomorrow, munchkins...