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Queen of Tetris 2002-01-07 This morning I got up early (6:30) even though I didn't really have to because Boy's school was delayed two hours, so I stayed home until I took him to school and then tooled on in to work. But I got up early since I couldn't sleep any more because my leg ached for no reason and the cats were oppressing me with their furry body heat. What I did this morning was drink too much coffee and then sit around playing Tetris, trembling from the coffee. And I accomplished something I had not previously been able to do--I beat level 5, and that nutty Tetris game subsequently went and bumped me up to level 8. Level 8! I stopped playing at that point, since I needed to get ready for work and shepherd Boy through his morning routine, but tonight the battle will resume. I'm going to get my ass slapped back to level 4, I just know it. Okay. You know how you can see on Diaryland lists of people who like the same things you like? I rarely spend time doing that, but I can tell you it is a worthwhile occupation, because today I located this guy, and I love him very much. He will probably mark me down as a stalker, since I have spent over 40 minutes so far today reading his diary and laughing, and it has been time very well spent. Check him out! Yesterday when I was at work for a few hours, my boss made a brief appearance, and he was wearing a long coat and a hat--he had just been at church. He mentioned his hat and I said that it was rakish, because I had to say SOMEthing, so the first thing he said to me this morning was, "do I look as good today as I did yesterday?" I told him he was assuming an awful lot, and I managed to dodge the question by breaking down "rakish" for him, to let him know that a rakish person is not necessarily good looking or whatever. But I swear, he is such an ass. He is all the time saying stuff like, "now aren't I a nice guy?", and I'm wondering how he could derive any satisfaction from that, since after all he is my boss, and I can't very well say, "actually, no you're not--you're a big jerk". Also, I can't imagine why he would need other people to tell him he's a nice guy, under force of coercion, since his own opinion of himself couldn't possibly get any higher. I know I'm ugly when I talk like this, so I'll stop, but really, can I get a witness? You know the Capitol Steps--that political humor troupe? I have known people in the past who have just Loved the Capitol Steps, and these people have been, coincidentally, people whose sense of humor is very limited and stodgy. Consequently, I have always disdained the Capitol Steps out of principle, even though I had never seen them or heard any of their comedy. However, last Monday when I was driving around, doing errands, I turned on NPR and they were on--some special radio show they did. And I want to report that, even though they are certainly specialized in their topics and I wouldn't want to hear them every day, they did make me laugh and I can no longer turn up my nose at them. They did this song about Clinton moving his offices to Harlem, and it was a takeoff of that "In the Ghetto" song that Elvis recorded. Remember that song? Well, one of their lines was, "They say I lied, like the puppet son of Geppetto (In the Ghetto)�" I figure people who can work the line, "the puppet son of Geppetto" into something have got to be given some credit. They have been exonerated. When we were in Seattle, Francisco saw a skull ring and bought it for me while I was visiting my friend, Diana. The skulls are tiny, but it is a nice silver ring and I really like it. I wore it a lot up until last Tuesday, when it mysteriously disappeared. And when I say mysteriously, I Mean mysteriously. Because I wore it on Tuesday and do not remember taking it off, and then Wednesday morning I noticed it wasn't on my finger, and I can't find it anywhere. I am very disturbed, because there isn't the slightest trace in my brain of any memory connected with removing the ring or putting it someplace, and where could it be?! I suspect that I vacuumed it up, because I remember vacuuming something noisy from under the bed on Tuesday, but how did it get under the bed? I will check the vacuum bag to see if my suspicions are correct, and hopefully I'll get the ring back, but even if I do I will always wonder why I can't remember taking it off. Senility is setting in early, for sure. Recent home improvement: Francisco painted and tiled the "utility closet" in the kitchen, and he also erected a shelf that runs the width of our dining area, about a foot down from the ceiling. I was inwardly skeptical about this shelf, before he put it up, but it looks really good and houses some of our more display-worthy stuff, and that also frees up kitchen cabinet space. I give Francisco an A+++ for his genius and industry. One last thing--last Wednesday a coworker told me about her daughter's Debutante Ball, which took place over the holidays, and I have never been so happy to be from a cow town in Oregon. If you are not familiar with Debutante Balls, then let me tell you that they sound like the more horrible, antiquated, Gone-With-The-Wind-ian events Ever. The Debutantes wear big white dresses and have to be "presented" (i.e. scrutinized and inwardly criticized), and have to do God Save The Queen curtseys and waltz with their dads while everyone else watches. I can state, on behalf of both my dad and myself, thank god we never had to go through that. I mean, fiddle dee dee, I got the vapors just from listening to my coworker talk about it. If you have been a Debutante and want to refute my ignorant assessment of these events, I would be interested to hear your story. Guestbook or email me. That wraps it up, and I must work now. Love, E
come over some time & see me - 2011-02-25 |
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