goodbye. I don't mean to be melodramatic (iloveit iloveit iloveit), but the 'dark rider' will be here soon. The next time I am here will be... different. Maybe I will listen to classical music while I clack away, or maybe I'll watch CNN in a little window in the corner—just cuz I can (I hope I can).
Wednesday night, I was more optimistic than was prudent. I had forgotten about online ordering. The NIC, today, is still languishing in a vast warehouse somewhere, still in the custody of happy shiney people who go about their duties blithely unaware of my desperate need. Mr. Right, who is due to arrive any moment, is going to find that I am wrong. Egad.
This is the story: I ordered the card I mentioned. They said it was in stock. After lots of data entry, they thanked me for my order, ominously omitting from their e-mail confirmation any mention of 'shipped' or 'delivery'. I went back to the product description page, and discovered they had very quietly changed my precious NIC's status from 'in-stock' to 'not in-stock!' I suspect they only update their inventory when people try to order.
So, disappointed, I set-off with glistening Visa in my teeth, through the jungle in search of yet another place that might hold the cure for my network failings—on one small earth, could there be two? I had to hope. I found another! More data entry, more e-mail, more hopes dashed. This one wouldn't even ship my 'overnight' delivery (which might actually be in-stock there) for over-two-nights. Having it here in three days, instead of four is no better, when I need it now.
Remembering my recent good fortune with live people, I turned to the phone. I found some sort of computer networking business that sells 3Com NIC's, but it's run out of someone's home. The good news: it's within a mile of me. Hope.
I left a message on a very nice voice-mail system; sounds like a one-man operation that sounds big. But that's OK, after all, where did Dorothy find her answer? Where did the lion find his courage? ..the tin-man, his heart? ..the scarecrow, his brain? Not in the Emerald City, but very close to home. However, I have not heard from the man behind the curtain.
i have not heard from the DSL man either, and here it's already 9:05 AM. It was an 8:00 AM appointment. Maybe both the wizard AND the good witch will fail me, and I can have a few more days to prepare...
But I did clean the apartment. And I am still sick as a dog. A dog with a nasty head-cold. And I just called-in sick. So now, after five days in a row off, I'm going to presume to stay away one more. If I'm not careful, they'll discover I'm expendable.
the man never showed. Which is just as well, since I wasn't prepared. But still, I couldn't resist the opportunity to write a snide e-mail. I'm bad.
Forgive my sloppiness with links but I have not figured out an efficient way of updating each new entry page from the previous day's page, and I often screw-up the navigation links. I forsee a cgi script that will e-mail me (or even page me--as if this is that important, but wouldn't that be neat?) whenever there's a 'failed-referrer' error. Of course, it would be easier (I think) to get a cgi to do the navigation for me. Ah, but who wants easy?
And if updating the contents of four seperate links and the contents of three scripts on each new page is not enough tedium, I also maintain 3 seperate 'archive' pages, which should be updated daily. (Do you think I'm manic?) Try this. Assuming that didn't fail, or screw-up the system focus (which I suspect it could on other systems) it should have opened a narrow window on the left, extending from screen-top to screen-bottom, regardless of your screen size. The quirk is that I've used javascript commands to both give it the system focus (keep it on top), and to make it close 'onblur', or when you bring up another window. However, the effect seems to be that it retakes focus onblur, effectively taking over until you close it, or click on any of its links, in which case it closes itself. That's not exactly what I wanted, but it's kinda cool anyway. (Am I easily amused?) This:
is what the link to it looks like. Look familiar? It's up top. Use it. Please? Having you use my script is almost as important to me as having you read my text.
Well, not quite that important. Not nearly.
we all just want to be known. I don't mean known like 'I know who you are.' I mean knowing someone the way it takes a lifetime of experiences to know them. Maybe no one will ever know me that well. But some, if I am lucky, will try. And I am lucky. There are some who read this. That is enough. Because here I can be me, without... being afraid, without worrying about how I look—or how you look. Here, I can be just me, without performance. This journal is kinda like a one man show, where some actor occupies the stage alone for the duration of a play. It would appear to be all about him, wouldn't it? But for him, it's really all about his audience, and if he's a really good actor, he disappears and each person in the audience sees themself in his place.
And life is not all just about solicitation; trying to get somebody's attention, make them interested. At one time that's all I was capable of; I couldn't have let another know me if my life depended on it because I was too busy acting, performing, soliciting love. Returning to some of that is inevitable at some point, but I try to have faith in the overall goodness of life. Because nobody wants only to be known; they want also to know. It may seem, by this journal, that I want your attention, but I don't. I want to sit here alone (for now) and talk one-way, to you if you choose to listen. I want to give you me, without there being any possibility in my own mind that I am trying to get something from you. Most of the time, I want (need) so much so badly that it's impossible for me to be conscious on any meaningful level, face to face.
And if no one chooses to listen, that's OK, too. Most people express who they are in many different ways; through family love, with friends at play, creatively at work, and intimately with a lover. I am not like that. This journal is who I am today, and having you read does what I need for me better than anything else I can think of. It's magic when I'm with you.
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