Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Wow, googling Stalk of the Celery Monster (1982) gets you a land on my blog, via an image not from a wittily titled T. Burton flick, but a graphic from the NT production of Frankenstein? Darling, I was an English major then, artist with a room of her own now, but that is truly an obscure connection whose meaning eludes me. Though suddenly this female Frankenstein is in the mood for a Bloody Mary. I wonder why that is?

Oh sweetheart, I should be more respectful & reverential on this day, and part of me is. But other parts of me felt quite dyspeptic and out of sorts. The day didn't go very well. I woke up feeling under the weather, hungover a little bit - was I? Why? I don't think I had any more wine than usual, although the wine store is out of the tried-and-true La Vieille Ferme, so perhaps this new, somewhat darker pink wine is stronger than I realized. And then the way I'd waxed in yesterday's post about my frustration about having to wait a whole week & a day for a cup of coffee (1st date in 26 years -- yeah I'm d&d free, do you need proof? but I did have Lyme disease. but that's all over.) Anyway, he emailed me this morning - did I need a ride. Say what? Wasn't that for next week? (Darling, how do I know if I need a ride for a cup of coffee a week in advance? I mean, my God, I'm Emma Bovary, stuck in the provinces, but not quite as bad as that.) So I emailed back -- we're meeting today? And in my slightly headachey state I shook my head pondering... you know, if I'd known it was for today -- then yesterday evening's post would never have been written, not like that (speaking of monkeys at typewriters -- how easily changeable whatever it is I clatter up onto the screen is). So I responded -- I thought you said "next" Wednesday - we're on for today? And delayed my shower until I got a response, because it sort of factored as to whether I was going to wash my hair or not -- or not really, I ended up washing it, even without his clarifying reply -- but certainly with what outfit I might wear today, whether I was going for a walk before or after lunch, and yeah, whether I did need a ride or not. Oh man. He got back to me. No -- it's next Wednesday all right, he had just wanted to be sure that I'd gotten his message from yesterday, about whether I needed a ride. I responded... probably I can get there - next week - on my own, if we can set a time a day or so in advance -- "in the meantime, have a great week."

Do you have a headache now too? I don't mean to be unkind. Perhaps his computer had crashed, which is why he was following up on whether I'd received a message that I hadn't felt in any immediate rush to respond to. Because also I have yet to receive a list of next Sunday's hymns from R -- I emailed her, and it turns out that her internet service had crashed. And I have to say -- on top of all my mildly dissatisfactory ______ [fill in word later], my computer or internet service was crashing much of the afternoon too, and I came perilously close to not posting this evening, because I could not get any web pages up AT ALL, but then I brilliantly figured out to kill a couple of the initial dial-up numbers, it's perhaps those remote phone booths, with wires chewed by squirrels, that were giving me trouble... and it worked, I bypassed Claverack & Catskill, in favor of Hudson, and voila --- smooth sailing, here I am, darling, to no avail except that I Showed Up.

You do realize, darling, that if I fall madly in love with that guy next week over coffee, and he with me, that I will probably have to quit blogging? Because - dom/sub or no sub, I doubt he would like it very much, and I wouldn't blame him. I don't think I'd want to date someone I was then blogging about however obliquely every night. No dearest, if he & I were to hit it off, I might have to come up with some other project entirely. Perhaps an oral history of -- well something -- where I might need to come down in person & interview you...

launching w/o proofing
that kind of day

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