Writing is easy. All you do is stare at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead. Gene Fowler

30 December 2002, 3:55 peeyem

They came, all except for my niece and nephew, who had the throw-up virus and stayed home with their mama. I wish they had been able to come, because I got them a bajillion books.

Christmas is not typically a good holiday for me. My mother and father live in separate towns from each other, and there aren't enough hours in the day for me to get to both, so it always seems too hectic and I'm tense the whole time. This was nice, though. There was a lot of work to do beforehand, but at least I was in just one place doing it all. I should do the same thing next year, only with the other side of my family; although, frankly, I don't think they'd come, except, perhaps, for my sister.

On Saturday Trace and I went out to the Sears outlet to find me a new refrigerator. I had to take Trace because it's hard for me to get my mind around spending that much money all at one time and, after all, there was nothing wrong with the old refrigerator, except that it's almond and it's a side-by-side. I had intended to get a white one, but the white one didn't have an icemaker, so I got one that's stainless steel. The freezer is in the bottom and it's a drawer instead of a door, and it's a thing of beauty. I can't believe how wonderful it looks in there (nor can I believe how surly the delivery men were). You can move the butter compartment, if you can even get your mind around that. It is uptight and outtasight and right in the groove.

After the whole refrigerator buying episode, I got a little headache, which, naturally, morphed into a big one and then into a migraine. For those who are considering advising me, I will go ahead and say that yes, I do take decongestants regularly, and yes, for God's sake, I've had aspirin and advil and caffeine. And I keep the humidifier running 24 glorious hours a day to avoid the sinus headache. No, I don't generally have a lot of stress and I didn't hit my head on anything. I just get them, always have. They run in the family, and I don't know why I get them. Yes, I am on preventative medications, but they can only do so much. I say all this here because you would not believe the idiotic recommendations I get from people who either don't believe I have a headache or don't understand the severity of them. One person suggested I could will it away if I put my mind to it.

Anyway. I woke up in the wee small hours on Sunday morning with my head throbbing. I could actually feel the front right lobe of my brain pulsing against my skull. I took a decongestant and an Excedrin and got back in bed, where I finally bored myself back to sleep. When I got to my house, I took my last Zomig and it started abating pretty quickly, as well as having the diuretic effect, which I can't explain, but there it is. All was well until about 6 in the evning or so and it started pounding again. I went to a movie, thinking it would take my mind off it, but no. Then I took a bath. And took two benadryl to (theoretically) help me sleep through it. No cigar. I woke up at 3:41 this morning, miserable and pulsing again. Took an excedrin and a sudafed, drank some water. Went back to bed. Didn't sleep.

In my pain-induced haze, I vaguely remembered reading about putting a banana peel on your forehead to get rid of migraines. I was housesitting, but remembered seeing some bananas in the refrigerator, so stumbled around peeling the skin from one to make a, er, poultice. I got back in bed and squished it to my forehead with a papertowel so that I could lie on my stomach. Inexplicably, I was quite concerned about having banana flesh smushed into my hair and getting fruit flies. Remember, it was the middle of the night and I was in a lot of pain. Then I couldn't remember if maybe the article didn't say I should put it on the back of my neck, so I moved it. Then I couldn't sleep for worrying about it falling off and getting all over the comforter. I finally just had to throw it away. But I did feel momentarily better for having been proactive.

Now I've been to the world's most expensive drugstore and gotten more Zomig, so I'm okay for the moment. If that changes, I have two more left. And I have some congealed salad (sounds disgusting but is fruity and light and delicious) leftover from Christmas, and that will make me immeasurably happy.

23 December 2002, 3:34 peeyem

So now they're maybe not coming at all. This is exactly what it's going to be like when I grow old alone.

23 December 2002, 1:22 peeyem

My finger is beginning to hurt again with that vague pain that had my hand therapist friend Julie finally saying sometimes fingers just hurt. Which, incidentally, is what my mother said, only she called me honey when she said it. I never did figure out what was wrong with it; it just hurt. I put a heating pad on it and that seemed to help, but really, you can't go through life with a heating pad on your hand, try though you might and as pleasant as it might feel.

I had been planning to go tomorrow to get the caramel cake. Fortunately I called the bakery to place my order, because she told me if I wanted one I'd better come on and get it. Now I have to go to the grocery for a roast and some potatoes. And some milk, which is not for Christmas day, but is so I can have breakfast in the morning.

Tomorrow we celebrate Christmas here in the office, and then we all, in our nice clothes, go down to the Commerce Club for lunch. After that, I will go home to sweep and dust and put things away in preparation for company on Wednesday. All of my friends will be off to their near- and farflung families, and I am toying with the idea of staying home and watching television, but if I do that, there's a pretty good chance that I'll mope around and still not get anything done. Moping is the curse of the middle class. Not enough money to travel the world, too much money to occupy yourself worrying about how to stay warm, so instead we mope. Someone is apparently having a bah humbug afternoon, and with no real good reason.

Leanne and I went to Monroeville this past weekend, and if you're joining us late here, I'm not telling you what's in Monroeville because I don't want it run over with people looking to make a quick buck. I will say, though, that being in Alabama makes you grateful not to have any mutant genes to speak of.

18 December 2002, 3:53 peeyem

I am feeling remarkably peaceful, considering it's the holiday season. Normally I feel too hectic. This serenity is due not to my increased maturity or atonement with the universe, but likely because my shopping is, for all intents and purposes, done. I usually do it all on the 23rd, because I get excited and tell everyone what they're getting if I do it earlier than that.

And I stamped the cards last night and put them in the mail today. I don't send retaliatory cards, so once they've been sent, it's just done and I don't send any more.

Yesterday I got my hair cut, with the express intent of having my driver's license renewed. I figure you're going to look like a drooling idiot regardless, but you can control your hair. I never cease to be amazed at the things I will request, now that I'm older and all. When I got there yesterday, I told the lady I wanted a good picture, and I wanted her to look in that viewfinder until both my eyes were open and I was smiling, and I wanted her to make sure that my head was tilted up right so that I didn't have a double chin. She giggled; the other man there laughed out right out loud. But dammit, I got a good picture. Wanna see?

I am rather pleased with myself and my picture. Now if I could get the passport people to redo my passport before my remaining eight years of validity are up.

16 December 2002, 1:31 peeyem

I am a weak woman. I'm sending back the radio for the one with the CD player.

I had a good weekend, got a lot done, that sort of thing.

12 December 2002, 4:26 peeyem

A prisoner of your love
Entangled in your web
Hot whispers in the night
I'm captured by your spell captured
Oh yes I'm touched by this show of emotion
Should I be fractured by your lack of devotion
Should I, should I?

You better be good to me
That's how it's gotta be now
Cause I don't have no use
For what you loosely call the truth
Oh, You better be good to me
I think it's also right
That we don't need to fight
We stand face to face
And you present your case
And I know you keep telling me that you love me
And I really do wanna believe
But did you think I'd just accept you in blind faith
Oh sure babe, anything to please you

You better be good to me
That's how it's gotta be now
Cause I don't have the time
For your over loaded lines
You better be good to me
And I really don't see
Why it's so hard to be
Good to me
And I don't understand
What's your plan
That you can't be
Good to me
What I can't feel I surely cannot see
Why can't you be
Good to me
And if it's not real
I do not wish to see
Why can't you be
Good to me

Goodgodamighty, I love Tina Turner.

11 December 2002, 4:36 peeyem

My radio came yesterday. I am in love with it. The sound quality is phenomenal. I thought about calling in sick today just to stay home and listen to it. And yes, I know it's frivolous, but I'm not getting any younger and my bladder's subject to go any day.

I have now printed and cut the Christmas cards. For my next trick, I will sign them all. Then stuff, seal, stamp, and send. ye gods.

10 December 2002, 10:14 ayem

Because I have had a few questions about the post of December 5...

What happened was this...

I have been in the Apple store so much lately that, naturally, I've made friends with the entire staff. Well, that, and walking in and telling them I want to leave with $6000 worth of computer stuff makes me pretty lovable. So I went in and one of my regular guys was talking to some man on a stool who had a clipboard.

I asked the regular guy if he was taking notes, and he said, "well, no, but he is."

I looked at the note-taker and said, "what kind of notes are you taking?" He said he was stopping people who were leaving empty-handed and asking them why they weren't buying anything.

Then he asked if I ever left empty-handed. Oh, sure, I said, sometimes I'm just on a fact-finding mission, because I have to have all answers before questions start getting asked. And sometimes I just stop in to check my email.

My salesguy, Daniel, came back to ask me something, and then he went whence he came (to the mythical "back"). So I turned around and picked up my conversation with the guy and he asked how I liked shopping there. "I love shopping here. I would MARRY the guys who work here, just for being so damn patient and cute." And I proceeded to tell him that I had been in there Just Last Night to buy a cable, and that I had been on the phone when I walked in, trying to get my mother on "the dubya dubyadubya."

I proceeded to tell him, in excruciating detail with voices and gestures and everything, about the conversation, and how the guys were all kinda listening to my answers and guessing the questions I was being asked. He wanted to know what she had asked and I said, "well, it started about a month ago with, 'now, how will I know my email address?' and how I tried to explain that she would just tell them one, and she couldn't understand where I was saying she should get it. By this time he was guffawing and wheezing. Tears were running down his face. He said, "yeah, Mom, they're assigned at birth. Didn't grandma give you yours?" I thought he was going to pass out.

Then I told him about telling her to open the drive. Of course it's not labeled drive. It's labeled Macintosh HD, which you wouldn't probably associate as the same thing either. I told her to go to the upper right hand corner of the screen and double click on it and it would open. She kept telling me no, it wouldn't, all it did was tell her the time.

I asked what was below it and she said, "Macintosh HD, whatever that is."

Once she got into Macintosh HD, I had her open other things and replace my information with hers. When it got to the field for the password, I asked if she knew it. "Well, of course I know it." I heard her tapping away and she didn't say anything else. Finally she said, "I'm not going to tell you what it is. It's secret." I am still trying to figure out under what circumstances I'd check her email.

Then Daniel came back with my cable and asked if I needed anything else. I said, "Oh, no, but I prolly will tomorrow."

I paid for the cable and as I was leaving, I said, "see you tomorrow, survey guy. have a nice evening."

On the way back to the office, I was trying to figure out why he looked so familiar and when I got back, I realized it was Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple. It was confirmed for me Friday when Macworld came and there he was, the man I'd been talking to, looking at me from page 61.

I, of course, am mortified. I was ON. I was really on. The sales staff had come to a complete stop and were just watching the whole thing unfold. I was all but tapdancing while delivering my comedy routine. Thank the lloyd I was wearing my fabulous spanish fly lipstick.

9 December 2002, 4:40 peeyem

I just wrote this to a friend of mine:

People move on and do their own things. Shit falls by the wayside. I have become accustomed to it.

It's not so much that it peeves me as I feel about it about like I do about high school reunions: I have nothing to tell them, yet too much to tell them in the 5 minutes everyone's willing to commit to a friendship.

I donut know. People come, people go. I'm still here and if they come back, well, happy to see you and all that happy horseshit.

Now I'm trying to pinpoint when I started feeling that way. I have known for a while that I do, I just don't remember it happening, and it seems big enough that I would.

And if you're reading this, it probably isn't about you.

9 December 2002, 4:00 peeyem

I had such a productive weekend. I am thoroughly amazed at myself. Usually I just futz around and get nothing accomplished. But this weekend – this weekend was different. I addressed envelopes for Christmas cards (multipurpose to greet you for Hanukah or Kwanzaa if you're eligible) by hand. 212 of them. I cleaned out the living room closet. I changed the linens. And cleaned the bathroom mirror. And went to the Carter Center for the National Archives exhibit. And looked at about a bajillion antiques with my friend Tom. And went out to dinner twice. And made a decision or two.

Here's the big thing I did: I bought a Bose wave radio. I am an FM radio junkie and I have always wanted one, and now, by God, I will have one in 7 to 10 days. Surely joy and happiness will follow me all the days of my life. I am going to put it on top of the bookcase in the living room and operate it from the couch with the credit card-sized remote control. When I hook up my wireless internet thing, I will never have to leave the house again. My ass will grow out to the size of said couch, and anyone who desires an audience with me will have to come over and see me.

It's a gray day here, and kinda cold, but not enough, really, to warrant gloves, just a jacket. It looks bleak out, but this is the first Christmas in a long time I've looked forward to, prolly because half my family is coming here. I haven't been with relatives for Christmas in a lot of years.

5 December 2002, 4:28 peeyem

Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio?

I have had a busy, busy week. Fortunately it has been less angst-ridden than last week was.

I have been to the Apple Store at Lenox Square every day this week but today, for cables and pieces of things. I should have gone in today, but I just couldn't. I think they think I'm retarded. But anyway, the reason I needed to go today is that yesterday I asked Susan where her little Belkin hub was so I could hook up her zip drive and her printer ALL AT THE SAME TIME. She looked at me kind of oddly and finally said that she had thrown it away, since it looked kinda like the old computer.

For all my bitching and moaning, I have a good job and enjoy the people I work with. And I have this big office and great chair and a phone with a bunch of buttons, and those things make me exceedingly happy.

I went to Target last night to get some plastic (ick) shelves for the living room closet, because if I don't do something about it, something horrible will happen, being as how it's spring-loaded with tools and paint and things of that nature. I also was looking for about a billion of those little birds with real feathers on them for the tree, but no such luck. And I needed some little lightbulbs for the kitchen lamp, but I forgot them; this is a problem only because I'm prone to wander around in the night and go rooting around in the drawer for decongestants, and I don't like to turn on the overhead light because then I'll be too awake to go back to sleep, and 4:15 is entirely too early to be up and ready to start the day.

Brenda took today off, and I have been out of whack all day long. Not that I don't have plenty to occupy my time, but still.

Oh! before I forget, when I was at the Apple Store on Wednesday, there was a man sitting on a stool near the door, talking to people as they left if they didn't buy anything. I was standing around waiting for my salesguy person to find the cable I needed and struck up a conversation with him, telling him, in excruciating detail, about getting my mother on the dubyadubyadubya. He was dying laughing by the time I finished telling him. I kept thinking he looked familiar, and then yesterday when I got back to the office, it hit me: it was Steve Jobs. Then Macworld came today and there he was, grinning at me from page 61. This is nearly as exciting as when I saw Robert DeNiro in New York.

3 December 2002, 4:42 peeyem

And yet still more fun than you can shake a stick at...

We are back to our technical hoohas here in the exciting world of publishing. Only this time I think we're close to being okay. Or we will be once everyone turns off their old Macs and starts using the new ones so we're all singing out of the same hymnal.

Yesterday and today have led me to an answer that I already knew. Of course, there are many answers all of us already know. I asked a friend of mine yesterday if I could send him a sketch for his opinion. Yes, he said, but I was to bear in mind that he's not a contractor. Well, I knew that, nimrod. I merely wanted an aesthetic opinion, and I told him so. Then he had some other disclaimer, at which point I just said nevermind and changed the subject. The next thing I knew, he had piffled on me and my (non-existent) dining room and my cranberry sauce, so I said, "well, fine. good day, then."

Today we have (apparently) had to argue over the semantics of it all, my point being that all I wanted in the first place was a simple yes or no to the question I asked. Now it has become a federal case.

Men. feh.

2 December 2002, 4:12 peeyem

So. I didn't write 50,000 words in December. I'd feel worse about this, but Leanne didn't either (but she did write more than I did). Not that that makes it right, you understand. November's just not a good month for projects like that. August. Now there's a month with nothing going on to impede your progress.

Back when I was in my fiction class, a friend of mine asked me how many pages I had. "14," I said. He scoffed at me, at which point I told him to pull out his last 14 pages of anything. Reading is easier than writing, I tell you.

Thanksgiving was, predictably, delightful. I love Thanksgiving. I love the people I have it with. I love the food. I love the conversation. I love the table and chairs and knives and forks and spoons and plates and napkins. I love turducken and andouille dressing and Sister Schubert's rolls and mashed potatoes and sweet potato pecan pie and chocolate hazelnut torte. I even love making bleu cheese terrine, which you would have to pay me to eat.

Now, of course, it's the beginning of the season of the Ode to Commerce, for which the Baby Jesus was born in a manger after his mother rode a donkey across the desert. This pisses me off for a few reasons, not the least of which is it's too damn early to be putting up lights and trees and giant plastic Santas. I don't mind doing my shopping early but by the time Christmas gets here, I've already had too much of it.

We used to put our tree up two Saturdays before Christmas, and it was lovely. Christmas trees make my upper lip itch and my head hurt, so for the longest time we used a little hawthorn tree or some such gotten off a fencerow somewhere. All of the ornaments we used were handmade (by us) and the lights were white and we tied little red bows on the limbs. God, it was beautiful. And then the day after Christmas, we took it down and put away all the decorations until next year. That is how I like Christmas, enough of it, but not too much. Because, as we all know, too much of a good thing is still Too Much Of A Good Thing.

This year my niece and nephew will be here for Christmas Day, so I suppose I'll have to get a tree of some description. I think I'll put it on the porch, because the house will be full of people. And I think it will have white lights and birds all over it. And maybe some bows tied on the branches.

In other exciting news, my mother has gotten an email address, yea verily. The mind reels. She's going to be on the dubya dubya dubya. The next thing I know, I'm going to find out she has a website.

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