Boxed Life

First: Happy birthday, Scott! Now comes the brief period wherein we’re, nominally, the same age! And there was, is, and shall be rejoicing!

Onward.

I still have a great many unpacked boxes. Dishes, pots, pans, books, my nifty inkjet photo-quality printer (I use my laser for the manuscript-printing workhorse stuff, because it’s so much more cost-effective and zippy-go-fast)… then there’s all the crap in my car, everything from dusty flute cases to colanders to CD jewel cases… not to mention the boxes and boxes of stuff my mom has in her house, just waiting to be shipped to me (that’s winter clothes and more books, lots of books).

Soon this sad state of affairs will end… because I’ll be in my new house. In my own room. And because I won the coin toss, I get the room with the closet, so I can shove stuff in there. I get to plug in my cherub lamps (perhaps, if you’re all very bad indeed, I’ll post photos of my cherub lamps here—those who’ve seen them will gladly testify regarding their incredible nicotine-colored ugliness), I get to buy bookshelves, and a new desk, and have room (My current computer setup is an ergonomic nightmare, if I keep typing I’m going to wind up seriously damaged. So the new desk is definitely a priority).

I’m also buying a new computer. It’s not that expensive, either… my needs are so modest that I can pick up something on clearance at an online superstore, get a zip drive and a nice modem and a decent monitor. All I use computers for is internet-stuff and word processing, so I don’t need anything fancy. And once I have a new computer, and an internet connection from home, you’ll be seeing a lot more Tropism entries. For the time being, I have to post from the library, or from work on my lunch break, and the basic irritation of that process leads me to write fewer entries… limiting me to only posting when I have something to say, for example. And we know that’s no fun—if I don’t post impulsively, right before bed, how will I embarrass myself, or bore all of you?

I’m looking forward to having an internet connection at home… I’ll have time to catch up on all the journals I’ve been neglecting (Columbine, Diane Patterson, Diana Rowland, Mary Anne, etc.), which’ll be really nice—there’s not that much time to surf and read during my half-hour lunch break at work… I look forward to working on my web site, too, making it more interesting and accessible, adding some fiction that’s seen print and can now be archived on my site… as you’ve no doubt noticed, I discovered the magic of tables, thus making the text of these journal entries a bit more easily readable. I want the site to be pretty straightforward and non-irritating, so don’t expect animated dancing bears or music or anything, but it’ll become a little easier to navigate, I hope, and a little better organized.

Of course, I won’t have any handy excuse for not keeping up with my email correspondence once I have such a setup… but perhaps I’ll catch up. Any of you readers should feel free to write me, if the urge strikes, I’ll reply in short or long or some kind of order… There’s a certain poetry to shouting into the void, I guess, but it’s the kind of poetry I don’t dig so awful much…

Last night I went to Pergolesi, the local coffee shop that hops with hipsters, punks, the occasional transvestite, bikers, college students, hippies, and etc. They’ve removed the rather grotesque paintings they had up (and while I’m a fan of the grotesque, and while a couple of those paintings were quite good, I’m not sorry to see them go), replacing them with some black and white photos of people and tattoos, a preferable décor. I sat, drank mocha and Guinness, wrote a bad poem, wrote in my other journal, revised some fiction, brainstormed, wrote down story ideas, and had a fine old intellectual time (all by way of distracting myself from the sad specter of my suddenly-absent beloved). I read the last fourth of Sterling’s Distraction, too (it’s an okay book, not my favorite of his). I burned through it because I have so many other books to read, I’ve bought so many in the past couple of weeks, and I’m eager to devour every one of them… Thus, the first hours sans Meg passed. Little did I know that Scott and Lynne were wondering where I was, watching Whose Line Is It Anyway? without me… but we got together later, and ate burritos, and chatted, and all was well.

As all is now well, roughly. Though once I’m in my new house it’ll be lovelymuch better…