16 March 2003
Stupid California drivers: it is not safe to go 65 on a 45 on-ramp with two inches of flooding rain, low visibility, and your headlights off. Smart California drivers: if you're riding with the stupid California drivers, will you please give them a clue? Or make them pull over so that you can drive? What is wrong with these people?
By some miracle (in Mark's estimate), no life was lost before our very eyes when I drove Mark to the airport. It was not for lack of stupid, though. I got some groceries on my way back, and made some chili and read the paper and talked to the folks and ate lunch. And now I'm going to start cleaning things. Bathroom, kitchen, living room, whatever. Clean. See, this is why you read about my life: for the non-stop action, the thrills, the chills, the car chases. If you hang on until the final reel, I may even take out the recycling. It may take more than one trip. Stay tuned.
I had a very nice day yesterday, though. We watched curling, and I edited some more of DBM (getting up to page 95 -- woo! -- but the later sections will go more slowly -- but that's okay). Then we drove up to Berkeley and hung around a bit at the Other Change with Will, got coffee (with real whipped cream, hurrah) at Au Coquelet, noodles at Long Life, and gelato at Mondo Gelato, and met up with various and sundry friends along the way.
Like Daniel and Wendy. (There are packets of chopsticks in front of the Wendy-lady, and I think there have been more flattering pictures at other times, but there they are anyway.)
And Zed and Karalee, who had never met before but were long lost best friends for the sake of fitting in the picture frame.
And here's Mark and me (same chopsticks from the opposite viewpoint). Not pictured were David, who left before I got out the camera (the two events are not related as far as I know), and Timprov, who doesn't usually like pictures and hasn't been feeling particularly good, so I didn't make an issue of it. I don't usually make an issue of pictures, actually. If you don't want me to take your picture, I'm not going to beg, plead, whine, cajole, or attempt to order. In most cases. If, for example, you're not Michelle.
So. Dark chocolate and creme caramel gelato, moo goo gee, lots of people being nice to me and even occasionally talking about the book in question...much happiness.
Hey. If you're interested in doing crits on DBM for me, and you didn't get an e-mail this afternoon, write and let me know! Please? Thanks.
Oh, and: we saw a writing exercise, right in the middle of downtown Berkeley:
Actually, we took the picture because we thought of Mlle. Freewrite herself, but it just looked like the sort of thing that would make a fun writing exercise. So if any of you do anything with it, send me the results. I'd like to see.
Is there any chance that I will ever be able to type "results" on the first try instead of "resluts?" No, I didn't think so, either.
I am officially converted to being a Matt Ruff fan in general, and not just on a fluke with Fool on the Hill, but if I'm going to have any chance at all of finishing Sewer, Gas, and Electric, I had better get to cleaning right now.
And the main page.
Or the last entry.
Or the next one.
Or even send me email.