I miss you.
Can I ever find you again?
Love,
Zuzu
P.S. Send my love to Delete. Oh, sure, there’s someone here named Delete, but it’s really Backspace in disguise.
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Archive for May, 2008
I’m leaving Feministe, and will be joining Shakesville as a contributor.
This place will remain in business. Where else can I examine the contents of my navel?
What does it say about me that when I loaded up all my CDs onto iTunes, I noticed that the two artists I had more of than anyone else were Concrete Blonde and Esquivel?
Just watched the Kentucky Derby.
Big Brown won, with great life story of the trainer (whose girlfriend was murdered in the next room from their daughter, who was with him at the Derby) and the jockey (seems he’s got a hearing-impaired son).
Really a great pull-away win.
But.
Eight Belles, the first filly in the race in 9 years, who took second place by more than the same margin that Big Brown beat her, broke down after the race and was euthanized because she broke both front ankles.
I was at Belmont Park for the Belmont Stakes in 1999, when Charismatic was supposed to take the Triple Crown, but he broke down at the end. It was a gorgeous fucking day in Queens, perfect temperature, no discernable humidity. My friends Rosalyn and Kevin were in town from Chicago; Roz was on business and Kevin was along for the ride (though he was from Kearney, where the pork store on The Sopranos is (sometime, remind me to tell you about my (very) peripheral involvement in the North Jersey and Connecticut mobs) and had moved to Chicago to get away from the mob thing).
Kevin lent me $50 to bet, because I had been misled by the Visa Triple Crown ads that they’d accept my debit card there. I bet on Charismatic and a couple of other horses; Kevin wound up betting on the eventual winner, Lemon Drop Kid, because of a throwaway comment I made about him while I was looking at the race guide, that he was out of Seattle Slew.
In the end, Lemon Drop Kid won, Charismatic broke down at the finish, and Kevin won about $4000 on his bet based on my throwaway comment about Lemon Drop Kid’s parentage. He also sprung for dinner that night.
The creepiest bit is that I’m fairly certain that the breeders will work hard to extract usable eggs from the corpse of Eight Belles.
I just got word that my buyer was approved on Tuesday, and the closing will be scheduled within the next few weeks.
Whee!
Of course, I have no idea where I’m going to live next. I can’t do any serious apartment-hunting until I have the proceeds in hand, and of course I won’t have those until the actual closing. I’ll have seven days to move out after the closing, but that’s cutting it close. I’m hoping to either get something last-minute, or put my stuff in storage and get into a sublet for a month or two while I figure out where to go next.
The pets will be an issue, of course. I definitely have a place to stash the dog, but the cats might be a problem. OTOH, it’ll be easier to get a sublet with just them while I look for a dog-friendly building.
Apartments around here are pretty cheap, especially on the other side of Coney Island Avenue closer to Flatbush (which is also closer to a much more convenient subway line). And there’s Astoria, which is very close to where I work, and also fairly cheap.
I’m kicking myself a little for getting the computer now, but it’s not like I could move in anywhere with $1300, even in Flatbush.
Eh. It’ll all work out in the end.
Purchased a new MacBook last night. Along with an Airport and a wee green iPod Shuffle, which is the tiniest piece of electronica I’ve ever seen. I had earrings bigger than that in the ’80s.
There were a few moments of frustration last night while attempting to get online wirelessly (and Apple could be a little more clear which device they’re telling you to restart when you’re trying to do setup). But once I got signed in and set up, it was a breeze.
I’m still getting used to the change in user interface from PCs, and especially from Firefox (can a Mac run Firefox? Because I’m not digging Safari so far). But ancient synapses are coming back to life — after all, I learned how to use computers on the teeny-tiny first-generation Macs at my campus newspaper, and I used them (with the exception of a few years of using mainframe-based pieces of crap at the professional newspaper I worked for between college and law school) all the way up through law school, until I arrived in a law firm that was still using MS-DOS and WordPerfect. So I had to retrain myself in WordPerfect and then, eventually, Word (when law firms finally decided to use the same programs their clients did).
My first computer,* purchased third-hand in law school, was one of the ’80s-era Macs. 1 MB of RAM. One. (My new iPod has 2GB.) 4-inch black and white screen. It was slow, and because it had no memory I couldn’t load any software onto it or use it to get online, but I was able to do my outlines and my exams on it, and print them at the law school’s computer center.
But now I have a sleek, fast, compact little MacBook. With a working disk drive! I’ll finally be able to upload my CDs.
_______
*Of my own — my family had a Commodore 64, not that we did much of anything with it but play games.
I’m going to fire my dogwalker tomorrow. For the past six months-year, she’s been coming very late; so late that she often gets there after I get home. And even on nights when I’ve gone out after work.
It’s always something; car broke down, locked out of car, ill relative, weather, running late. I’ve spoken to her several times about this, but last night was the final straw. She called me at 8:30 (I’ve asked her to call if she’ll be later than 7) and left a message that she probably wouldn’t be there before 9:15 because she’d locked her keys in the car. By the time I got the message, it was already 9:30, so I assumed she’d just gone ahead and walked Junebug anyhow.
She hadn’t. When I got home at 10, the lights were out, the leash was where I had left it that morning, and the poor dog was practically knocking down the door to get out.
Junebug loves her. But what am I paying her for, if she walks my dog only moments before I arrive home anyhow?
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