Category: Home and Domesticity

Productive Week

Thursday’s pondering was just a little exercise in literary masturbation, I guess. It’s really a true story, but I never seriously considered contacting the guy. I think that, all in all, I was more into him than he was into me, and I’m pretty comfortable with that.

It’s good to know, though, that there are so many Planet SOMA readers who are eager and anxious to step into the no doubt tasteful shoes of Miss Manners.

Another productive week, as it happens. Knocked out several web pages for hire, I finally got an appointment for PG&E to come fix my oven, and my porn stories for Boardboys were approved for later publication, which means both that I can to add “published author of literary erotica” to my list of credentials, and that I’ll be able to pay the rent for another month.

And no, writing porn is not quite as, ummm, stimulating as it sounds. It’s not horrible work either, but I wasn’t exactly moved to the point of having to stop and masturbate every five minutes.

I also reinstalled my computer at the evil part-time job, which was no small task and resulted in much profanity since it’s a Winblows machine rather than a much superior Mac or Unix box. I bought a few books. And I started the massive cleanup which signals a pending Mom visit.

I’m not a really bad housekeeper, believe it or not. But there are certain things I only do every two or three (or seven or eight) years, like dusting the chair rail and the dish shelf, and tackling the astonishing amount of grime which collects in my medicine cabinet. I don’t understand; the door is closed 23 hours and 58 minutes a day. How does it get so damned disgusting? Am I using the wrong toothpaste or shaving cream?

Yes, I know. The house will never be quite clean to the standards of the average mom, even though mine is definitely not a neat freak. But we have to try, after all.

And if any of you happen to be roaming about South of the Slot tonight, I’m even thinking of hitting the corner bars for a semi-miraculous second Saturday night out in a row. Come on down…

Not Just for Breakfast Anymore

I think I may be pregnant.

I’ve been known to put strange ingredients together and call it dinner, but tonight’s was just a little too weird. I coiuldn’t decide what to make and I ended up with cheese and eggs topped with garlic salsa, canned collard greens on the side, and toast. It was pretty good, actually.

And the greens should counteract the effects of the cheese and eggs.

Since I’m being (more) boring (than usual) this week, you should get out and go visiting or maybe create your own Planet SOMA in the message board. Either way, I’m going to bed.

Nighty night…

Love/hate

OK, so the Jackass Hill Road sign just wasn’t all that funny after about five days. Sorry. I’ve been busy. I’m not sure what I’ve been busy DOING, but I sure have been busy.

I haven’t even had time to dig very far into the pile of books Adric sent me this week. That’s reserved for this coming weekend and should take about six months or so. I’m, talking a LOT of books.

Part of what I’ve been doing is research for Bottles (and the upcoming made for TV movie, no doubt). Lurking around all those college libraries, along with listening to a couple of friends talking about college registration, has uncovered a mildly nagging desire in me to go back to school. It’s reminded me that one of the situations in which I’m truly contented is when I’m researching some major project. You’d think there could be a career in that somewhere.

I’ve also been working. Two TV station sites, two porn sites, and miscellaneous other projects. I’ve also been eating horribly, which usually happens when I’m working a lot. But we had nice, healthy Ethiopian food on Friday night, so that cancels out all the crap, right?

Things I hate today:

  • Libraries which have everything I need stored in some inaccessible off-site warehouse.
  • My low-flow toilet (again).

Things I love today:

Tastes Like You Spent Minutes

Could there be a better comfort food than Jello No-bake Cheesecake? As my friend Jon used to say, “Mmmm. Tastes like you spent minutes.”

Not, mind you, that I was feeling particularly uncomfortable today. I just had one on the verge of expiring and I figured I deserved it for getting so much done this week. Of course, had I gotten nothing at all done, I also would have believed I deserved it, as a stress-reliever.

This would explain my ample frame, no doubt.

Speaking of pre-packaged dessert products, time is running out for your submissions to the next installment of Did You Bring Bottles. I’ve already had one anoymous bit of mail with lots of great information, not to mention a couple with actual names attached to them. You could be next.

Speaking of food, I’m once again pondering the idea of my birthday gathering in August. Last year, I invited any intersted complete strangers (and a few friends), and it was pretty cool. I’m thinking of Tad’s again, just because it works so well when you have no idea how many people will show up. Other suggestions welcome. Gifts are neither required nor encouraged.

I’m also interested in hearing from anyone who could offer me some fascinating journal ideas, since I apparently have none right now. If only I were in the mood to go out, get drunk, and do something (or someone) stupid. Alas, I’m not. Oh well…

Sex, Resolutions, and Things I Love

I made a boy grits this morning, after having been awake with him most of the night. Use your imagination…

It was a little odd. I haven’t brought anyone much home in a long time, much less allowed them to spend the night and get the whole breakfast package. I had no intention of doing so last night either. I was already worn out at midnight, and I really intended to have one quick beer at My Place, maybe avail myself of the backroom, and come home to sleep.

Anyway, I had fun. He was cute as a bug’s ear, intelligent, and even nice. I barely noticed that he was (gasp) 13 years younger than me. I wouldn’t even mind a second go-round, which means I’ll probably never hear from him again.

All the same, I sure would like to have had just a little bit more sleep last night…

Resolutions for July:

  • Quit smoking.
  • Answer the email a bit faster.
  • Pursue design and writing jobs more aggressively.
  • Eliminate the part-time job I hate so much.
  • Do the laundry once a month whether I need to or not.
  • Obtain health insurance with the money I’ve saved by not smoking.

I should be able to do all those things, shouldn’t I?

Things I love today:

  • Safeway Select Garlic Lovers’ Salsa
  • The idea of being asleep in half an hour or so.
  • Andy Griffith Mondays on Nick-at-Nite.

Pride

I’m really proud of myself tonight.

I did my laundry without having run completely out of socks and underwear, and with only two months having passed since the last time I did it. This is pretty major; doing the laundry is, at best, a quarterly occurence in my washerless world.

Afterward, I made this glop with chicken, macaroni, and broccoli for dinner. I’m not nearly as proud of it. It’s good enough that I’ll finish it, but not good enough that I’ll ever make it again.

Things I love today:

Things I hate today:

  • Lukewarm onion rings with a double cheeseburger combo.
  • Laundromats.
  • A significant portion of Daly City.

I took a bit of an email break this weekend. I should be caught up tomorrow night, so if you think you’re being ignored, you’re happily mistaken…

Video Memories

For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been engaging in the tediously entertaining task of dubbing all my 8mm camcorder videos (dating back to 1994) to VHS. I’m in the middle of 1998 now.

A couple of things I’ve realized in the process:

  • My hairline has remained pretty constant since 1995.
  • The early videos (where I was using the video camera as a video camera rather than as a glorified still camera to get screen shots for the website) were much more entertaining.
  • I really porked out in 1997 and 1998. I think a good chunk of it’s gone now.
  • My apartment used to be the most disgusting, nasty pigsty in the world.
  • I hate my “conversational voice”.
  • I like my mom and dad a lot and I miss being around them on a regular basis.

It’s kind of fun going back and looking at the old stuff again. I’ve seen people I forgot I knew and places I forgot existed. And this is only after 5 1/2 years. It’s amazing how much San Francisco has changed (mostly for the worse, I’m afraid) in this short period of time.

I’ve watched Sarah’s hair grow from millimeters to inches. I’ve enjoyed close-ups of food from every diner and dive imaginable. I’ve seen myself having sex on numerous occasions. I’ve re-lived road trips and visits from friends. And, as always, I’m still more concerned with what I didn’t shoot than with what I did. South of Market, before it succumbed to yuppie cancer, would be one thing I’d like more of. More sex would be nice too, but I imagine I already have more of that on tape than most people anyway.

It was not a bad way to kill a few days, all things considered.

Shit. Literally.

Take the new and improved Planet SOMA Factory tour…

Crimes against nature:

  • Canned corn
  • Low-flow toilets
  • The upcoming “Gilligan’s Island” marathon on Nick-at-Nite

Of course, numbers one and three paint me as a snob and number two makes me look anti-environment. But canned corn is just plain nasty, on the same level as canned squash and canned rutabagas. “Gilligan’s Island” is pure crap, and while I love a lot of crap, I don’t love this particular crap. Number two on the list is, of course, related to crap as well and to the fact that I want said crap to disappear when I ask it to by flushing the crapper.

I guess number two could also be related to “number two”, for those of you who grew up using that particular term. I grew up in a “stinky” house myself. It seved as both noun and verb (“I have to stinky” or “there’s still stinky in the commode”). Most of my friends were from “doo doo” homes. I never met “poop” people until I moved to California, and even then, most of them were from Ohio.

Please don’t inundate me with email about the term you used to describe defecation unless it was really funny…

Corned Beef and Early Rising

I am drowning in corned beef. Three pounds of it following a cooking jag this afternoon. I’ll be eating it for days. Anyone want a sandwich?

No, I’m not really offering anyone a sandwich. That would involve more of an emotional closeness than I’m able to admit right now. And there’s the potential for rejection. I offered my landlord a sandwich earlier tonight and he said he didn’t like corned beef. I don’t think I can take that twice in one day.

Odd day. I was up at a startlingly early hour, one which I haven’t seen in many months and have no intention of seeing again anytime soon. Among my discoveries at this ungodly hour was the fact that the 12-Folsom bus doesn’t start running until 6:30. This was not something I really wanted to know.

At least it’s quiet early in the morning. PG&E has not yet arrived to do whatever the hell they’re doing at the freeway on-ramp. The workers who have been renovating the building next door for the past five years have not started sawing wood out back and hammering the wall behind my bed. The piledrivers and traffic helicopters are still at rest.

All the same, I don’t want to get up that early ever again. I am completely and utterly baffled by the thought that people get up at 5:00 in the morning to drive an hour or more to work, spend ten hours or more there, and then drive an hour or more home. I can’t imagine any job which would ever be worth it to me. Call me a lazy slacker if you like. I’m comfortable with that as long as it means my life is my own.

And as long as I can occasionally spend a Monday afternoon cooking corned beef and then trying to get rid of it on the web, all while watching old movies on AMC.

Maybe I should give up being a moderately-lethargic worker and try to become a moderately-active housewife. Any takers? A dishwasher, washer, and dryer on-site are absolute requirements. And I don’t get up at 5:30 in the morning for any man…

19 February 2000

I moved Irma into the living room tonight. I thought she deserved a change of scenery, and it was part of a general rearrangement to make way for the three latest members of the family. I’m now harboring twelve houseplants. I’m never lonely…

Dinner at the Pizza Joynt with Jamie tonight. Bob Coffin was pumping the organ for all it was worth, with the standard fare and also (are you ready) a Wurlitzer version of “Stairway to Heaven”. I don’t think Jamie quite believed me when I gasped at the realization of what we were hearing, but soon the recognition overtook her as well. A Led Zeppelin song played on a pipe organ is not something one forgets easily.

Afterward, there was Super K-mart in Oakland which, I repeat, is perhaps the purest and most wonderful shopping experience to be had.

When I got back to the ‘hood at midnight, there was not a parking space to be had. I’m not really sure what the hell’s going on down here tonight, but from the parking scene, I have a feeling I’m glad to be missing it. My return to the world of the promiscuous will just have to wait one more night. I’m going to bed…