a busy day

quility called yesterday morning, to ask if I wanted to come in to her office and do a bit of data entry, for money. I accepted. (They give me a flat rate for miscellaneous temp stuff, meaning that the data entry pays enough for me to be willing.) I headed downtown after lunch (cheese sandwiches and the rest of the previous night's cucumber salad), and was there for about three hours, typing stuff, asking occasional questions--we decided the database could cope without accents on Slovene and Canadian names and Brazilian addresses.

Then I went up to the gym, and did a quick workout ( Read more... )

Quick because I had plans to meet roadnotes for dinner. eleanor, cattitude, and volund also joined us, and much good Japanese food and conversation were shared. Something in that workout made my knees unhappy; may have to go back to roll-my-own workouts (more fun anyway) and skip the leg press for a while.

From there, all of us except Cattitude went on to Rose's turn, where I hung out, listened, talked to people a bit, and sang along enough that my throat was unhappy by the time I got home. (I'd started with a bit of cough/cold, so this is unsurprising.)

On the way home, I was playing Bubblet on the A platform at West 4th when someone came along and asked if I had games on my Palm. She'd lost all her games. I had only Bubblet--not the solitaire she asked after--but happily beamed that to her, and took a minute to show her how it worked. In the midst of this, she called out to a friend "I'm begging on the subway station", which was fine with me because beaming Palm apps costs me nothing (this one is shareware, but will run even if not registered).

Last thing before bed, I logged on long enough to send one email: I'd forgotten until I was at 's office that it was the 16th, hence my brother's birthday, and while he probably won't have seen it last night, I at least wanted to send a happy birthday on the right day.

a busy day

quility called yesterday morning, to ask if I wanted to come in to her office and do a bit of data entry, for money. I accepted. (They give me a flat rate for miscellaneous temp stuff, meaning that the data entry pays enough for me to be willing.) I headed downtown after lunch (cheese sandwiches and the rest of the previous night's cucumber salad), and was there for about three hours, typing stuff, asking occasional questions--we decided the database could cope without accents on Slovene and Canadian names and Brazilian addresses.

Then I went up to the gym, and did a quick workout ( Read more... )

Quick because I had plans to meet roadnotes for dinner. eleanor, cattitude, and volund also joined us, and much good Japanese food and conversation were shared. Something in that workout made my knees unhappy; may have to go back to roll-my-own workouts (more fun anyway) and skip the leg press for a while.

From there, all of us except Cattitude went on to Rose's turn, where I hung out, listened, talked to people a bit, and sang along enough that my throat was unhappy by the time I got home. (I'd started with a bit of cough/cold, so this is unsurprising.)

On the way home, I was playing Bubblet on the A platform at West 4th when someone came along and asked if I had games on my Palm. She'd lost all her games. I had only Bubblet--not the solitaire she asked after--but happily beamed that to her, and took a minute to show her how it worked. In the midst of this, she called out to a friend "I'm begging on the subway station", which was fine with me because beaming Palm apps costs me nothing (this one is shareware, but will run even if not registered).

Last thing before bed, I logged on long enough to send one email: I'd forgotten until I was at 's office that it was the 16th, hence my brother's birthday, and while he probably won't have seen it last night, I at least wanted to send a happy birthday on the right day.

Another meme going around

This one is to list poets you have books of poetry by (as distinct from their being included in anthologies, or having a novel by someone who also writes poetry). I got it from marykaykare but I think it started with oursin.

Note: cattitude and I share a book collection, but I'm not listing anything he got that I'd never look at. This may not be complete--the books aren't organized--and includes things I haven't looked at in ages.

W. H. Auden
Jim Carroll
H.D.
Emily Dickenson
T. S. Eliot
John M. Ford
Judy Grahn
Marilyn Hacker
Homer (or another writer of the same name)
Ursula Le Guin (yes, I also have most of her novels)
Denise Levertov
Edna St. Vincent Millay (I think the first poetry I bought with my own money)
Pablo Neruda (a mix of bilingual editions and English-only)
Dorothy Parker
Adrienne Rich
Sappho
May Sarton (though I found I prefer her prose)
William Shakespeare
Dr. Seuss
Jo Walton
Frederick Winsor (The Space Child's Mother Goose)

I have actually met five of the poets named above; no prizes for identifying them, given how many of the others died before I was aware of them, in many cases before I was born.

[I may edit this later if something jumps out at me; I'm not listing things I bought on someone's recommendation, put down quickly, and haven't picked up again. (Addenda after looking at other people's lists in italics.)]

Another meme going around

This one is to list poets you have books of poetry by (as distinct from their being included in anthologies, or having a novel by someone who also writes poetry). I got it from marykaykare but I think it started with oursin.

Note: cattitude and I share a book collection, but I'm not listing anything he got that I'd never look at. This may not be complete--the books aren't organized--and includes things I haven't looked at in ages.

W. H. Auden
Jim Carroll
H.D.
Emily Dickenson
T. S. Eliot
John M. Ford
Judy Grahn
Marilyn Hacker
Homer (or another writer of the same name)
Ursula Le Guin (yes, I also have most of her novels)
Denise Levertov
Edna St. Vincent Millay (I think the first poetry I bought with my own money)
Pablo Neruda (a mix of bilingual editions and English-only)
Dorothy Parker
Adrienne Rich
Sappho
May Sarton (though I found I prefer her prose)
William Shakespeare
Dr. Seuss
Jo Walton
Frederick Winsor (The Space Child's Mother Goose)

I have actually met five of the poets named above; no prizes for identifying them, given how many of the others died before I was aware of them, in many cases before I was born.

[I may edit this later if something jumps out at me; I'm not listing things I bought on someone's recommendation, put down quickly, and haven't picked up again. (Addenda after looking at other people's lists in italics.)]