I spent a good chunk of yesterday angry and perturbed, but as is typical for me, once I figured out what to do about it, I quit being angry and perturbed. I would like to just skip that part and go to the functional part, but for reasons unknown to me, I seem to be forced by my sensorium to go through the angry bit before I get to the get cracking bit. Now, if I could just NOT show my anger to other people while I’m getting there, life would be perfect and gravitons would make gravy. Oh, and universe, while I’m working on that, please help me be more respectful and loving to my intimates; having two sets of manners and using your second best at home (to quote Lucy Maude Montgomery) is no frackin’ way to run a railroad.
And I can’t talk about either of the items of annoyance. Each one branches into little rivulets of bad communication and gossip; talking about any aspect with the wrong people doesn’t help. Being public doesn’t either. On the first item of annoyance, I must marshall my arguments, communicate them respectfully and clearly, be clear with myself that everything I say and do will be misinterpreted, understand that it’s going to literally take years to unsnarl the mess and that’s only if there’s a way to build a consensus, and then brace for an impact that’s going to make the opening minutes of Pitch Black look like a Disney cartoon. Ah, living in community! Sometimes you’re striking a match to light a candle, and sometimes you’re lighting it to get rid of a nasty smell. In any case, my mantra is going to be, “Less heat, more light.”
On the second item of annoyance, the mantra, “Suck it up, Buttercup,” is now in direct violation of my keeping my blood pressure down, so I have determined to wait for the teaching moment. No sense holding my breath. This may take a while. Respect, respect. It’s not about me, it’s never about me, unless it’s me talking, and me moving. As Ashleigh Brilliant once remarked, “There is a universe which I alone control, but it ends at my skin.” No, none of this is directed at Jeff, who continues to help make my life a little patch of peace and civilized behaviour.
Katie’s birthday celebration ended when I dragged Keith and Jeff out of Drink. Jeff didn’t want to leave, which is … uh … remarkable. I think he was enjoying the floor show, which consisted of four girls with dye jobs and elaborate hair, multiple piercings and tats, shrieking, giggling and being adorable. We watched Katie drink a Muff Diver, which is a big-ass martini glass with a shot glass of something creamy and brown buried under a mound of whipped cream. The drink involves licking off enough of the whipped cream to get at the shot glass; you pull the shot glass out without using your hands and then up-end it over your face. The aesthetic results are… uh…. well sugar, I’m her MOM so I have to play nice and just leave you to go by the shortest route to your happy place. The guy sitting across from us didn’t know where to look; his girlfriend was righteously annoyed. Yes we got pix. Supreme Court ruled 5-4 not to publish, but I’m betting at least some of them end up on Facebook. We met a certain young man, whom we have learned Katie has a planet sized crush on, and GET THIS: Jeff, Keith and I ALL liked him. Either he’s as amazing as Katie has advertised, or he’s one hell of an effective sociopath. I can’t believe he’d get past all four of us, so I’m sticking with amazing. Too bad he has no time for Katie… but it was damned good fun to meet him, and he’s got a standing invite to watch movies with us.
Last but not least, I am writing a user guide for my own body, as if I was a piece of used equipment, which, sadly, I am. It is for the Bodperfect 5.1 (refurb), designed and manufactured in Canada. I’m only a paragraph into it and I’ve already had to muffle myself so I don’t wake Jeff up with my barks of laughter. It will be completely worksafe, and yet in extremely poor taste. There is a line… and if I don’t cross it, how will I know it’s there? Later…. it is done, all 1100 words of tastelessness. Includes lines like: Attempts to access other ports will result in a cold boot. (Footnote… to your head or your ass, whichever is closest).
Why is it that whenever I have deadlines I am super creative about OTHER stuff?
