September 15, 2000

conversation 2

The Flamingo's new page design looks good. (It looks familiar, too, ahem, though she's made Improvements. I could make Improvements. Thing is, I'm lazy. So I'm not going to.) Along the same lines, if not quite, I glanced over her journal yesterday and picked up the word "Launchcast." I should really check that out someday, I thought vaguely to myself, and puttered online to log on.

I have speakers on my laptop port. So there, basically, went the first hour of the day. I learned new things, though, in my latest dip into the modern world. One: I like Savage Garden. Two: I just don't get ABBA.

On the other hand, Loreena McKennitt is pretty cool. It surprises me how much I know about contemporary music, in the non-classical sense; I even experimented with a country western song, before loathing prompted me to erase that entire genre from any future relationship with my speakers.

I go to Stomp tomorrow with my Director and a group of people, which is great in a sense because it'll be a night out and I get paid on the same day, so I can actually enjoy myself without thinking about how much I'm spending. On the other hand, there's a definite disadvantage in the fact that I can't bring Quirk to work.

I meant to bring him today. People at work asked me to. "You have a hamster?" the vegetarians asked. "What is a hamster?"

They're from India. I mocked them for not knowing what a hamster is.

"They're rats," I told them, deadpan. "You put them in soup."

"With tails? You keep it as a pet?" one of them asked, looking worried. They're never quite sure to take me seriously or not; I keep warning them not to, but they persist, Just In Case. Every now and then I throw them by being serious, and acting like I'm not, which then confuses them further.

"No tails," one of the engineers said, wandering by. "They're small, about yea big, and they're fuzzy. Kind of cute. Cats like them."

"I'll bring him by and you can have him for lunch," I offered.

They left. I keep warning them about the Japanese sense of humor, too. Nobody ever listens to me.

September 15, 2000

I have to leave soon to go to Stomp. This will be, perforce, a short entry. Launch cast is tooting in my ear; I set Into The Woods at an insanely high rating, so of the last three songs, two have been from that album. I have to remember to water my plant before I go. I'm noticing that leaves are starting to fall off, which to me just suggests that it hasn't been getting enough water.

One of my group mates came by and stared at Spid II for a while. "It's dying," she accused me.

"It hasn't had enough water," I said, apologetically.

"No. It looks like you've given it too much water. See? It's not drying up. It's turning yellow---"

I set my jaw. "It's a tropical plant. It needs more water."

She shook her head sadly and wandered away, murmuring something inarticulate about hamsters and plants. I don't think she thinks I'm a good mommy. I have to go get another bottle of water. This one is empty....

....later

There are Things happening that I'm not allowed to talk about, darnit, because 1) they're not My Things, though I was directly involved in making them happen, and to talk about some of them would only prove embarrassing for the other people involved if things didn't work out according to plan, and 2) I signed some sort of confidentiality agreement that prohibits me from talking about the other things.

Crud. You'll deal with the disappointment, I know.

Darn it. I have to shut up and close down; it's 5:15, and my ride is supposed to be here any second to go to dinner and Stomp. My tummy hurts.