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Friday, March 05, 2004

7:37 PM: I don't even know where to start.

Let's begin with my classes, I guess...

My classes have been going pretty well. I've been surprised at how much I've been enjoying the PoMo Fiction course, despite not being a fan of much of the stuff we've been reading. Granted, I may be singing a different tune shortly; I need to write a story of my own over the next week and a half, and I don't think I'll be able to get away with an essay this time around. Plus I need to revise the essay I submitted the first time.

In the meantime, Quark Boot Camp is going fairly well, and the professor's finally gotten the Powers That Be to provide a way of printing from the lab that's clunky and complicated and much, much better than the options we've had until now. That said, doing all my homework in the lab, and reading through the textbook without having the program in front of me, has been less than optimal. So, umm, I bought a PowerBook.

This actually wasn't a bad decision. Given that I want a career in the exciting field of publishing, it'd be really helpful to get more experience with the Macintosh platform in general, not to mention QuarkXPress in particular. I briefly considered getting a relatively cheap used desktop system, maybe a beige G3, but there really isn't room for another computer setup in my apartment. For that matter, I've occasionally thought it might be useful to have a laptop... so the PowerBook seemed to kill several birds with one stone.

It is, to be more exact, a used PowerBook G3 w/bronze keyboard (AKA "Lombard"). Found on Craigslist. The asking price was $550 or best offer, which I got down to $500 and a mix CD. (Okay, the seller said that she was gonna hold firm at $500 before I even got the chance to make that offer, and I threw in the CD on a whim. No point in letting the facts get in the way of the story.) It came with an extra battery, and was preloaded with useful software, Quark included. Never mind the details of that last bit, although I'll note in passing that a legitimate copy of Quark would have cost more than the laptop, even with the educational discount.

(The toughest part of the decision to buy it was wrestling with the ethics. I eventually realized that there was simply no way I could actually afford both a Mac and its software just now... and, that being the case, the software companies aren't actually losing any money they'd be getting from me otherwise. If I end up staying with the platform, I imagine I'll eventually upgrade everything and pay for it. That's pretty much what's happened on my PC, after all.)

Anyway, the computer's kinda cute, but in a dignified, corporate sort of way. Nowhere near as saccharine as, say, an iBook, which is all to the good. And I've already had the chance to appreciate Apple's service. It seems that the original Powerbook G3 power adaptor had a bit of a tendency to overheat, and Apple has a free exchange program. And while the site says to allow them a few weeks to ship the new adaptor, they overnighted it almost instantaneously. I'm impressed.

(On the downside, the dignified matching black box that was the original adaptor has been replaced with a goofy UFO-ish thing. But at least it's not supposed to burst into flames.)

This was quickly followed up by getting an external USB Zip drive, so I could transfer files off the laptop without having to resort to using the Internet or my camera. Once again, I found it used on Craigslist, gave the seller a call, and arranged to see it:

"So," I said, "I'm in the Back Bay. Where're you?"
"I'm on Suchandsuch Street."
[beat]
"Huh! So am I. I'm at 213."
[beat]
"I'm at 211."
[beat, during which I realize this means he's not only next door, but technically in the same building]
"Oh! Umm, which apartment?"

Craigslist works in mysterious ways.

So, I walked over with the laptop, admired his cat, confirmed that the drive worked with my system, and bought it. The drive, that is. I already had the system.

In other news, the past two Saturdays have been spent cleaning my apartment. First I was thinking of getting a desk from somebody who was moving out downstairs, and was clearing room for it. (It ended up being the wrong size.) Then I was expecting somebody to come by with a Lombard, and wanted the place to be semi-presentable. Along the way, I finally threw out all the empty soda bottles I've been meaning to take back to the store for months.

Literally, months. The problem is that I don't have a car, the supermarket's a bit of a hike, and I feel silly walking through the streets carrying a sack of empty soda bottles. And I tend to go to the supermarket at the spur of the moment when in the area, so most of the time I don't start at home, where I can pack as many bottles as I can fit in my backpack. Which has never been all of them, 'cause I go through about two liters of soda a day.

Anyway, I've finally realized that the best thing to do is to go back to just throwing 'em out. And it turns out that ten bags full of soda bottles take up quite a bit of space, and when you get rid of them, you get that space back. Which is good.

So now I'm hoping to maintain this pattern of weekly cleaning for at least another week or two, because the apartment is, for the first time, beginning to approach the outer perimeter of the area known as "barely presentable to easygoing people." If I ever get to that point, there may even be photos.

Finally (for this entry), the Girl Scout cookies I ordered a few weeks ago showed up this week. Mmm. (I ordered a box of Thin Mints, a box of Piñatas, and two boxes of Animal Treasures. The Piñatas were new to me -- new to everyone this year, I think -- and, if I had it all to do over again, I'd have gotten a second box of them in lieu of the second box of Animal Treasures. Oatmeal, icing, cinnamon, and strawberry jam: not exactly healthy, but very yummy. But there's always next year.)

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Tuesday, March 02, 2004

2:17 PM: Talkin' Texas

Okay, my report from Dallas is now close to two months late, and I imagine nobody cares about it anymore... anyway, it's seriously holding up the works, so I'm just going to wrap up the bits at the end and kick it out the door already.



I was working out my travel plans for 2004 back in December, and realized that there were three trips I particularly wanted to make in the course of the year. I wanted to visit my sister in Dallas. I wanted to attend the Slayage Conference in Nashville. And I wanted to go to TUScon in Las Vegas.

After giving the matter some thought, I came to the conclusion that I could afford only one of them, and that the above list was in the order from the one I most wanted to attend to the one I could most do without. The trip to Dallas also had the advantage of being the cheapest of the bunch, in theory, as I wouldn't have to pay any conference or hotel room fees. So I booked my tickets on Priceline (that was the one unexpected twist), and flew off to Texas.

It was so the right decision.

Any lingering doubts I might have had about it were put to rest about a week before, when meeting a bunch of people from The Usual Suspects. Columbine, Debby, Peter, Lisa, Frank, Yours Truly, and -- visiting from Finland and the catalyst for the get-together -- Diana. They're all perfectly nice people, and, as it happens, I've been looking forward to meeting Diana for a couple of years now. I ended up regretting not having tried to arrange a one-on-one meeting while she was in Boston, 'cause I think we exchanged approximately ten sentences all night.

This is the thing: I don't do so well in large groups. I alternated between fading into the woodwork and chatting with Columbine. (Columbine was directly across from me, and she's good at drawing me out.) The Slayage conference and TUScon -- especially the latter -- would involve meeting and interacting with large groups of people. That'd be more likely to lead to my getting stressed out and frustrated than anything else.

Dallas consisted mostly of hanging out with Erin and the cats, with occasional interludes of hanging out with another person or three. It was nice and fun and relaxing and all that good stuff.

So, on to the narrative, which I'm going to try to arrange thematically:

Packing

I always, always forget to pack something when I travel, and this trip was no exception. In this case, I'd actually remembered the stuff in question, and had gotten it ready to take with me, but unaccountably failed to put it in my duffle bag at the last minute. Specifically, I left my pajama pants and my toiletries bag at home. Also, my right glove and some Chap Stick, both of which usually stay in my right coat pocket. (In fact, when I arrived in Dallas without them, I assumed they fell out of the pocket in the airport or on the plane, and was relieved to find them in the apartment when I returned.)

The pajamas weren't really a problem. I'd packed a pair of jersey cotton pants (like sweatpants, just not as heavy), which served the purpose quite well. Granted, I'd planned to wear them during the day, but I'd also brought jeans and cords. No biggie.

The lack of toiletries was annoying. I'd packed my Mach 3, shave gel, moisturizer, hairbrush, electric toothbrush, and toothpaste. I'd even remembered to take the batteries out of the electric toothbrush, so that it wouldn't turn itself on and freak out the security people. And then I left the bag at home. Hmmph.

The gloves were a glorious non-issue in Dallas.

This'll be continued under "shopping."

Food

We had a lot of fast food, which was my fault. I gather that Erin would have been just as happy with something a bit more upscale, but, you know, I've been reading Fast Food Nation, and it's been making me hungry. Also, I wanted to experience Chick-Fil-A, which I've now done twice. I recommend the kids' meal, which was a bit of a revelation when Erin ordered it. ("You can do that?") It has good chicken nuggets, and portions of fries and soda that aren't ridicuously large. And you get a free prize!

We also went to KFC. Granted, I could have done that in Boston or New York, but I'd never gotten around to it, and it was nice going with somebody who was familiar with the place. It turns out that the Colonel's blend of herbs and spices ain't bad.

Finally, we went to an Italian/pizza place (with Adelle, Karen, and Gary) that I forget the name of; the pizza was okay, but I liked the garlic knots.

On the non-fast-food side, we went to a Tex-Mex/Salvadorian place with Adelle, at which they explained the menu for me and eventually guided me towards something relatively non-daunting, tacos al carbón, which was fine. And the chips'n'salsa were good, too!

Oh, and Erin made some fried chicken along the way, and -- speaking as somebody who'd had a lot of chicken over the weekend -- it was quite good. And also a bit impressive, considering that she made it from scratch. Everything I make when I'm feeling hungry involves opening a package and putting it in the toaster oven, microwave, or Foreman grill. (Although, granted, I did a bit more in my last apartment, where I actually had some room in the kitchen. As it stands, my pots'n'pans have yet to be unpacked. I have no place to put them.)

Shopping

We swung by CVS on Friday evening, to replace the toiletries I'd left at home. I got some disposable razors (and later wished I'd gotten another Mach 3 instead), and shave gel, and a toothbrush, and a very small, rather cute hairbrush, and a trial-sized bottle of moisturizer, and some Blistex Complete Moisture lip balm. I have since fallen in love with the lip balm. Also, Erin got me some limited-edition orange-flavored Kit-Kats, which totally rocked.

Later that night, we swung by a crafts store, where I picked up some fabric dye and a black T-shirt on clearance. (One can never have too many black T-shirts.) As it turned out, this was just the beginning.

On Saturday, we shopped. I am reliably told that this is what people do in Dallas: eat and shop. We passed mall after mall after mall, with Erin telling me about dozens more, all "right down the street." In Texas, this phrase appears to encompass everything in a twenty-minute radius.

(I had a bit here about Dallas having nothing but highways, but then I read it to Erin, and she proceeded to go out of her way to demonstrate that there are non-highway roads there too. Granted, they tend to be large, multi-lane roads, and drivers tend to treat them as if they were highways, but technically they ain't. Fair enough.)

We started with Borders, where I managed to resist buying anything, although I did read about half of Simon Cowell's new book. (It's good. I want to read the rest.) I was proud of myself for holding strong. That turned out to be about my only such victory of the day.

From there we went to Target, where my dear sister forced me -- forced me! -- to pick up a cheap DVD copy of Clerks: Uncensored.

Then she made me wander unattended for an hour in a mall where she was attending a birthday party, knowing full well that there was a WaldenBooks there, where I was likely to pick up two books on clearance.

Not content to leave it at that, she later dragged me to Half Price Books, and wouldn't let me leave until I picked up a half-dozen used books and a CD.

So much for economy. And it's all her fault!

...that's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

Touristy-Type Stuff

In between some of the shopping, we went to the Dallas Zoo. We saw lions and tigers and... okay, no bears, but gibbons, and spider monkeys with prehensile tails, and kangaroos, and okapi, and flamingos, and lots of other animals and birds, most of which mooned Erin when she tried to take a picture of them. We think it's a conspiracy.

(Still, prehensile tails are cool.)

Why, Why, Why, Delilah?

I'd been growing my hair out since September. I didn't quite know what I wanted to do with it, but then I'd never done anything with my hair before, and I liked the idea of trying something other than keeping it cut relatively short. I had some vague hopes of ending up with something a bit more feminine that I could still pull off. I figured I'd give myself more material to work with, then go to a salon or something (this clearly assumes an alternate universe in which I'd be willing to spend money, but just go with it) and see what we could do.

By the time January rolled around, it hadn't hit the point of being long enough to do anything interesting with, but it had gotten to the point where it needed some sort of attention. There were bits here and there that were messily flying out. Erin said it looked okay in general, but confirmed that the messily-flying bits needed to be trimmed, and offered to go with me to a local barber.

The upshot, because this is the point where this entry's stalled out, is that the barber didn't bother to ask what I wanted, and then proceeded to ignore everything I said when I told her. And having had lots of time and a bit of therapy, I will grant that the resulting haircut was actually pretty good on its own terms.

Just short, that's all.

And, lo, I sulked. And, lo, my sister turned traitor on me, pointing out that it was a good haircut, a swell haircut, a haircut much better than what I'd walked in with. She further pointed out that I didn't have the patience and self-discipline necessary to properly maintain longer hair anyway; that if I wanted girlier hair, I'd need to cut it short and buy a wig. Which was quite probably true, darn it, but I couldn't help but notice that she didn't say that until after she'd suckered me into going to the barber.

Hmmph.

Karaoke

Saturday night, after the shopping and the zoo and the barber and everything, we met up with Lyn Never and Bryan. Who sided with my sister in liking my haircut, by the way.

To sum it up briefly, it was nice seeing them again. Bryan introduced me to my new favorite drink, Toasted Almond, which tastes rather like the ice cream bar of the same name, but contains Kahlua and amaretto. We then went out for karaoke, which was a group research effort after the first place we went to turned out not to be having karaoke that night. Bryan did a really good version of "Baby Got Back," and a good time was had by all.

Hangin' Out

Otherwise, a lot of time was spent just hanging around the apartment. We watched the VeggieTales version of Jonah and The Aristocats. And speaking of cats... the cats and I got along remarkably well, actually. Einstein in particular decided he liked me pretty quickly, which was a bit of a mixed blessing; he's one heavy cat, and you don't necessarily want him jumping up on you if you enjoy such minor pleasures as breathing. Fortunately, they all pretty much left me alone when I was actually sleeping. As far as I know.

Anyway, it was a nice, relaxing visit. (At least for me. I'm less certain that was the case for Erin.) And I checked the weather in Boston a couple times a day and rejoiced in my not being there during a few days of sub-freezing weather.

But all vacations come to an end eventually... in this case, first thing in the morning. Or just before that, because I forgot about the time difference and set my Palm Pilot to wake me up an hour earlier than I needed to, which was likely just as well. Erin drove me to the airport, and I flew home, and, now, many weeks later, I'm finally posting this entry. The end.
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