or, more accurately, because I'm an ass-hat who can't remember his own email adresses/passwords, I've borrowed a guestbook of a diary from days gone by. So the book is up and running - don't let the url fool you.
Don't let some of those old guestbook entries fool you, either. I'm not nearly as cool as I used to be.
Posted by Taylor on April 11, 2005 @ 8:44 pmor that anyone would necessarily notice any differences upon first glance, but I have fixed up my layout one last time. This time by replacing the gross table-ridden code with sparkling CSS div layers. Not bad considering the state of affairs my HTML coding abilities were in just a few short weeks ago. So another personal achievement that most people couldn�t give two craps about and that�s FINE because I don�t love you either!
In other news, today was my first day back to work after a two-week vacat- pardon me, sick leave. It was wonderful to see The Boss Lady (who will henceforth be known as Bitsy for reasons that will never be completely known to you, her, nor I). So it was wonderful to see Bitsy again. By the grace of God, Mouth called out sick today, so I was able to wean myself back into that office setting, being left only to deal with The Bathroom Bombardier (who switched things up this afternoon by announcing �Ladies� Rooooooooom!� instead of �Bathrooooooooom!� before laying assault on the Classified girls).
I�m not looking forward to Mouth�s return tomorrow, though. You know how someone might, in an attempt to exaggerate the amount of talking another person does, say that he or she �Doesn�t stop to take a breath�? This woman literally and actually does not stop to take a breath. When, by the physical limitations of her own body, she does manage to expel all of the air from her lungs she pauses for only one brief second to suck in a large audible breath through her nose, powering her to talk on for many painful moments to come.
In other words, I�m anticipating a Letter-Opener-In-The-Eye kind of day tomorrow.
but my credit card is officially paid off. I don't believe it's been paid off in the (one second while I count on my fingers) five years that I've had it. To boot, it's also currently my only credit card. I guess, to me, this just represents a step towards financial stability. Again, no one cares, but I'm so happy I could pee.
Actually, no. One of the few remnants from the surgery is that I can't really pee. In order to pee I need to get into the shower for a few moments and warm up my bladder. Or something. I don't really know why getting into the hot water helps, but it does. And then I have to hop out of the shower. But I don't have time to dry off, because if I do, I might lose the urge. That, of course, makes puddles of water on the bathroom floor. I hate puddles of water on the bathroom floor. One could argue that I could just pee in the shower (I hear this is common practice). If there's one thing I hate more than puddles of water on the bathroom floor it has to be the thought of standing in a shower that has been peed in. So no.
Posted by Taylor on April 10, 2005 @ 10:25 amThis is better. I think, at least.
Posted by Taylor on April 09, 2005 @ 2:41 pmabout the growing issue of homelessness in San Francisco. It made my heart ache, but for all the wrong reasons!
Of course the whole homeless issue is unfortunate, but seeing that made me miss the city a lot. I miss the old man that would be jerking off almost every time I walked by him in the morning. I miss the man that would stand, perfectly balanced and perfectly still, on the edge of an upturned milk crate, moving only to shove his tip cup into your face. I miss the guy selling his "art" (pen scratchings on notebook paper) down on Church street that would ask ever-so politely for change and, when ignored, spew obscenities under his breath as you passed. I really miss the mattress on Hayes onto which someone had spray painted "Sleep here Ho".
I just miss that city and I've been feeling it more lately than usual.
Actually, now that I think about it, if I do move back to San Francisco I'll probably be taking that mattress up on its offer.
Posted by Taylor on April 09, 2005 @ 12:12 amMy trip to New York was, in one word, positive. It had the potential to be described by sundry not-as-nice words.
(For the record, it did not start out so hot. I almost missed my Fung Wah Bus. But I didn�t miss it because it was late. And then there was an accident, so we got stuck in that traffic. And then we didn�t even have a Chinese driver so we spent the entire trip on all four wheels traveling at a respectable speed. And then he decided to come into the city from the north and come all the way down past the park and all the way through the heart of Midtown and it took FIVE HOURS. And then I shot myself in the face four thousand times.)
But then I got off the bus and had a lovely dinner with Miss Connie and Miss Becky and it was really very lovely (despite the four thousand bullet holes in my face).
And this is where I�ll stop the play-by-play because the rest of the weekend is still kind of fuzzy. We met up at the old apartment. His old apartment. Our old apartment. He looked good. He looked happy and healthy. I looked like I�d not only taken a five-hour bus ride but that I�d been run over a bus. There was a lot of small talk at first. We both had a lot to say. It was like we were making a pastry cream. We had to temper the yolks.
Also, if I keep going with this �temper the yolks� analogy I�m eventually going to get to �hot cream� and that�s just not the direction in which I wanted to take this!
There was also a lot of nothing. A large part of the weekend was spent doing absolutely nothing. The only time we left The Girls� house was to go to the grocery store (which, by the way, was amazing. It was like Disney World and the local supermarket got together one night, had a few too many margaritas, banged like bunnies, and had a baby. There was an animatronic Chiquita Banana Lady dancing over the bananas!). So there was a lot of nothing and a lot of talking.
There aren�t any more questions. There isn�t any more wondering. I know. He knows. We know. The only thing I don�t know is what to make of it all. Or what to do with it all.
I do know one thing, though. And I knew this before I even went out there. Before the tempering and the talking and the nothing and dancing Chiquita Banana Lady. I knew it the very instant I didn�t get into school out here. I�m going back to San Francisco. I�m going back to finish school. That�s where I�m supposed to be at this stage in my life. I know that one thing for sure. I�m supposed to go back to finish school. I don�t know what else I�m supposed to do out there, but I think there�s more. So all I can do is go.
But I don�t know when. I don�t know when I can go. I need to stay here a little while longer and make some money. I don�t want to wait too long, though. It sounds ridiculous, but I�m not getting any younger. My life is on hold until I finish school. So I might start in September of this year. Or that might be too soon. I might start the following spring.
I don�t know. But I know.