no job, but good company and new food

The employment agency was rather a washout: the person I talked to said they don't get many editorial openings. There's some chance of temporary office work, though I wonder about a place that, while it has updated its forms to ask for an email address, still lists "Multimate" as one of the skills applicants can check off.

It didn't help any that I had to call cattitude and ask him to pull out the phone book, because the address I'd written down for these people doesn't exist: I had written East 42nd, and they're actually on 44th.

After that, I came home, got out of the business drag and into my cat-pattern tank top and jeans, and went out to meet L. She'd asked me to keep her company for a medical appointment, after which we wandered, hung out, and talked. The high point was discovering a community garden on Avenue B, around 6th Street: they were in the process of taking down the "closed for construction" sign and opening the gates as we walked past. This isn't just the usual neat plots of vegetables and flowers you'd expect: there are big old trees, raspberry bushes (one of which was bearing as we walked past), a wonderful tower of art and weirdness hung with all sorts of odd ornaments, a stream inhabited by turtles and koi, and a fig tree. I picked a piece of fruit off the ground, asked L "Is this a plum or a fig?" and she said "a fig." So I dusted it off, broke it open, nibbled it, and discovered that I like fresh figs. I gave her half, and ate the rest of the other half, seeds and all. Any day that I discover a new tasty thing is a good day.

After a while we went down to Chinatown, wandered some more, and eventually decided on New Green Bo because it was a definite answer. Disappointing dumplings, okay crispy duck, and excellent rice cakes with seafood.

She went home from there, and I went to Rose's Turn, where I hung out with baldanders, eleanor, roadnotes, Chuck WINOLJ, and a couple of people I didn't really know. Much music; I declined Eleanor's offer of crash space and left the bar around 11:30. I got to talk to Chuck a bit when he wasn't playing saxophone. He's planning to go back, finish college, and become a teacher, which seems excellent. His 15-year-old daughter is now going to Harvey Milk H.S., and he hopes that she'll be able to improve her grades now that she feels comfortable at school. He also wishes the press would just leave them alone, which I think it will, soon enough.

The other surprise of the evening--which I'm sure has been in the papers, but I've been skimming stuff related to 9/11 commemorations--is that they were shining two bright blue searchlights up from Lower Manhattan, presumably from Ground Zero, a reprise of the Towers of Light memorial from two years ago. L and I were just walking along Canal Street when we saw them.

no job, but good company and new food

The employment agency was rather a washout: the person I talked to said they don't get many editorial openings. There's some chance of temporary office work, though I wonder about a place that, while it has updated its forms to ask for an email address, still lists "Multimate" as one of the skills applicants can check off.

It didn't help any that I had to call cattitude and ask him to pull out the phone book, because the address I'd written down for these people doesn't exist: I had written East 42nd, and they're actually on 44th.

After that, I came home, got out of the business drag and into my cat-pattern tank top and jeans, and went out to meet L. She'd asked me to keep her company for a medical appointment, after which we wandered, hung out, and talked. The high point was discovering a community garden on Avenue B, around 6th Street: they were in the process of taking down the "closed for construction" sign and opening the gates as we walked past. This isn't just the usual neat plots of vegetables and flowers you'd expect: there are big old trees, raspberry bushes (one of which was bearing as we walked past), a wonderful tower of art and weirdness hung with all sorts of odd ornaments, a stream inhabited by turtles and koi, and a fig tree. I picked a piece of fruit off the ground, asked L "Is this a plum or a fig?" and she said "a fig." So I dusted it off, broke it open, nibbled it, and discovered that I like fresh figs. I gave her half, and ate the rest of the other half, seeds and all. Any day that I discover a new tasty thing is a good day.

After a while we went down to Chinatown, wandered some more, and eventually decided on New Green Bo because it was a definite answer. Disappointing dumplings, okay crispy duck, and excellent rice cakes with seafood.

She went home from there, and I went to Rose's Turn, where I hung out with baldanders, eleanor, roadnotes, Chuck WINOLJ, and a couple of people I didn't really know. Much music; I declined Eleanor's offer of crash space and left the bar around 11:30. I got to talk to Chuck a bit when he wasn't playing saxophone. He's planning to go back, finish college, and become a teacher, which seems excellent. His 15-year-old daughter is now going to Harvey Milk H.S., and he hopes that she'll be able to improve her grades now that she feels comfortable at school. He also wishes the press would just leave them alone, which I think it will, soon enough.

The other surprise of the evening--which I'm sure has been in the papers, but I've been skimming stuff related to 9/11 commemorations--is that they were shining two bright blue searchlights up from Lower Manhattan, presumably from Ground Zero, a reprise of the Towers of Light memorial from two years ago. L and I were just walking along Canal Street when we saw them.

I like this list

On my favorite mailing list, the latest digest included, as a comment on the debut date of the promised cartoon Opus, "Hm, 40th anniversary of the death of Aldous Huxley. Can this be a coincidence?"

I like this list

On my favorite mailing list, the latest digest included, as a comment on the debut date of the promised cartoon Opus, "Hm, 40th anniversary of the death of Aldous Huxley. Can this be a coincidence?"

Someone else's cookie

My fortune cookie last night said "You simplify your life in many ways and find great rewards."

Okay, where's my message?

Someone else's cookie

My fortune cookie last night said "You simplify your life in many ways and find great rewards."

Okay, where's my message?

QOTD

"This isn't a leap of logic so much as a short skid of logic placed on a steep, greased slope." — Darkhawk, on alt.polyamory

QOTD

"This isn't a leap of logic so much as a short skid of logic placed on a steep, greased slope." — Darkhawk, on alt.polyamory

Weirder pointless idea

I could take a page from sythyry's journal, and write a post consisting entirely of private jokes with, and allusions to, fictional characters.

If this still seems like a good idea in the morning, and I'm hanging out at home (instead of gym, Greenmarket, et cetera), I may actually do it. But first I should go back to February, and see how many of the allusions in my Boskone report I still understand.

Weirder pointless idea

I could take a page from sythyry's journal, and write a post consisting entirely of private jokes with, and allusions to, fictional characters.

If this still seems like a good idea in the morning, and I'm hanging out at home (instead of gym, Greenmarket, et cetera), I may actually do it. But first I should go back to February, and see how many of the allusions in my Boskone report I still understand.

Paid time

Thank you: either the Support Fairy has visited me again, or someone was anonymously generous: I have received two months of paid time for this account. (Somehow thanking the Support Fairy seems a bit different from thanking someone who actually spent money.)

Update: it transpires that I have again been visited by the Support Fairy, who is in fact an officially-sanctioned fairy.

Paid time

Thank you: either the Support Fairy has visited me again, or someone was anonymously generous: I have received two months of paid time for this account. (Somehow thanking the Support Fairy seems a bit different from thanking someone who actually spent money.)

Update: it transpires that I have again been visited by the Support Fairy, who is in fact an officially-sanctioned fairy.

(no subject)

Out of a discussion in truepenny's journal, I am now considering the title "The Big Bad Thing from Outer Space" and wondering what sort of work would lurk under that title.

(no subject)

Out of a discussion in truepenny's journal, I am now considering the title "The Big Bad Thing from Outer Space" and wondering what sort of work would lurk under that title.