Strange Rumblings In The Desert

Notes* Last night's House was very upsetting, for me. Plus it made my mom cry. Never a good thing. I think it says something about my mental state when, watching the episode, I completely agree with everything House does. Including almost killing a patient to prove his friendship to Wilson. Hey, at least you don't doubt his conviction. Friends consider this very unhealthy, and pray I am never put in a position of power over another human life.* Still writing my book (actually, typing it up). I'm starting to think it really, really sucks. This could be paranoia, or it could be common sense.* Figs and prosciutto is the best lunch ever. * When someone is in the midst of a separation that will probably end in divorce, and they tearfully ask you if you think they'll make it, these are the wrong things to say: - Your husband is hot. Can I have his number? - Hahahahahaha. Are you serious?! I'm surprised it lasted this long! - Not unless you stop talking in that shrill, whiny voice. - No. No I don't. (I said none of these things. What I said was, "Uh, I don't know," which resulted in a fresh burst of tears, leading me to believe that I might as well have picked one of the other options.)* September is my favorite month in the Northeast. It's brisk, not cold, and the sun is shining golden on the leaves as they darken and turn brown, red, orange, and the air smells clean, and it's warm if you lay in the sun, and when it does rain it's always soft, mellow rain, and makes you want to curl up with a good horror novel and a hot cup of tea, and watch the skies open up. Today it's warm, and the sky is a clear blue with tufts of soft, innocent-looking clouds, and the grass is remarkably green, and if you find a nice place in the sun, you can curl up and take a nap and have only pleasant dreams.Unfortunately, I'm working, so I really hope someone else is enjoying the weather and taking a nap on the warm, soft grass, letting the breeze tickle their face. Because I'm inside looking for places to sell my writing.* I finished my article, which is a yay. But I can't reach the two people I need to interview to finish said article, which is a big boo. Even though I've been there, and really love it, Pittsburgh is rapidly becoming my Lost World: the place where you lose all contact with people, where you wonder if they ever even existed, or if it was all a really vivid daydream. The first time I went to Pittsburgh, Kurt Vonnegut died while I was sitting in the airport. The second time, George Carlin died the day I was leaving. Do you think the universe is trying to tell me something, or do I feel a sudden desire to travel there because my animal instincts tell me someone awesome is going to kick the bucket? Riddle me this.* Holy Moly! is the funniest website ever (this week). My amazing uncle introduced me to it. Read "The Corner," & "The Rules" - I stayed up mortifyingly late last night, reading them and snickering helplessly, while my sleepy dog eyed me, grumpy I'd woken him up.* The power cord to my computer just turned off. For no reason. My computer is no longer charging. It's just... the battery is draining. And not stopping. This could become a serious, serious problem.* I think that The Sims and The Sims 2 are the reasons why we do not yet have flying cars, world peace, or an earlier release date for the Watchmen movie. How many hours, days, lives have been lost playing this game? How many works of art have rotted and turned to dust, waiting for their creators to lose interest in the tiny, computerized world they've created? And meanwhile, the creators, their energy and imagination devoted solely to the society they've been working on, triumphantly cries out, "Look! My Sims have GREAT-grandchildren now! I can make the cousins marry each other! Let's see if I can master the ancient art of Sim Incest! Simcest, I'll call it (patent pending)! Brilliant!"This has nothing to do with me, of course, or the decreasing number of hours I spend asleep. Nothing at all, and frankly I resent the implications.* David Foster Wallace hung himself. I'm going to reread Infinite Jest. That's really all I can do. * You think there's any way we could somehow replace Sarah Palin with Tina Fey, secret-like, so that in case McCain DOES win the election, she can do secret good from inside enemy lines? She'd be like Jason Bourne, or a ninja! Tina Fey is pretty much a ninja all the time, but she'd be a real ninja! And then, maybe, one day she'd be president! Tina Fey as President would make me very happy. You know what? Whenever I see Sarah Palin from now on, I'm going to pretend she's Tina Fey doing another skit. Then I will be happy, instead of depressed, worried, and a little nauseous. This election is giving me heartburn. If I thought more people read this, I'd actually post a real political entry. But nobody does, so I'll settle for snarkiness instead of real, intellectual analysis. OK. I really need to deal with this power cord dilemma, and work. - LV

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