outer-jessie's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- EAT, Papa, EAT. Which has nothing to do with this entry. Today, my apple sauce tastes very much like baby food. It's the same kind I always get, and the four other containers I ate this week all tasted normal. I don't know if there's something wrong with it, if it's poisoned, or what, but oh my god, it's fabulous! It tastes so much better than normal. I think I'm coming down with carpal tunnel syndrome. I'll sue the damn government for everything they've got. No. Then I'd end up with George W. for my personal secretary and have to shoot myself in self-defense. George would cry. I can't be responsible for that. Today's my big day! First piano lesson of the millenium. My Nana called me at work yesterday all happy about it, and she said she's been telling everyone who would listen about how her granddaughter can play Fur Elise by memory. Which is true but not all that inspiring, considering what a dumbed-down version it is and that my main area of expertise is memorization. So you guys can tell your grandmothers that all I really did was memorize a crummy piece of second-grade-level music, in case they ever come in contact with my grandmother. All grandmas should be armed. In addition to my piano lesson extravaganza, there is dinner and a show in store for me. I made a reservation for Rob and me to that sleep-inducing maroon-themed restaurant we go to downtown for a mere five minutes after my lesson is scheduled to end, and we'll have no more than an hour and a half to order, eat, and pay the bill before we'll have to skeedoodle to catch our show. I asked for Stomp tickets for Christmas, and Rob provided. I have no doubt that I'll love it, I just hope that Rob will enjoy it too. In other news, after many hard days of struggle, Rob got his Playstation to work, and he reports that it's cool. Thumbs up, Waldon! Thank you muchly for your oh-so-very-badly-needed assistance with this purchase. I could not have done it without you. Party! It's almost two, the day has flown. Mostly because I had something to do today other than work. Sad but true fact: I have done no astronomy-related work today. Instead, I have labored over the transcription and typing up of the book reading I recorded for my friend :) It's really hard to understand, I thought a manuscript would be useful. Except that even I, who was there, cannot decipher every mangled word that fell upon my recorder. But as you all know, I have a compensatory wit, making up for all my short-comings, and that of my manuscript as well. My friend, who will laugh for 45 STRAIGHT minutes about something dumb that I've done, will surely appreciate my interjections as well as the original intentions of the speakers. (sigh) I can only hope. This mini gift exchange is set to go off tomorrow night...which reminds me that I have to go call the hostess and tell her I don't intend to get there until early aternoon, as opposed to tomorrow morning as planned, as opposed to tonight as we *originally* planned, before Stomp came up. She hates when things like this happen to our plans, which is really all the more reason why it happens. Never mind, I won't get in to this dynamic now. Or ever. Put it out of your mind; you won't get no satisfaction. I miss my beautiful desert home. You may wonder where this non sequitor fell from, but it's not a non sequitor in my mind. I Can't Get No Satisfaction is a song that reminds me of then and there, so then and there I went. And I take you every where and when I go, when I'm in the midst of an entry. From the mouth of Susanna Kaysen, author of Girl, Interrupted: "I don't believe in that therapeutic aspect of writing. I don't think art is therapeutic. I think therapy is therapy, and I think art is art, and never the twain shall meet." I should know she said it, I just listened to her say it OVER and OVER again. (big, outraged roar is heard in the voice of a lion) Yeah, that was me. Amazon refuses to send a Christmas gift for one of my friends that I ordered the day after Thanksgiving. This displeases me. Who exactly had dibs on all this Spongebob merchandise? 1:30 p.m. - 2002-01-04 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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