Tablesaw!

A while back, my firm transported their proofreading team to Anchorage to work on a case. Today, they just dump loads and loads of tapes to be transcribed. Personally, I'd prefer to travel north.

I haven't been sleeping well since getting back from North Carolina. I don't know why. Normally, I sleep very deeply, without interruption. This past week, my sleep has been shallow, and I wake up every few hours. The result is that I feel I've gotten less rest than I actually have. So I need to get home and sleep. I need to go to Mass tonight and apologize to T. for losing her phone number while on vacation. I hope it's not detrimental. If I sleep through Mass, then I'm really screwed.

FriNYTX: 16. FriLATX: 10. SatLATX: 5:45. I should note that I made an error on 3D because of an obscure Muppet Show that I've never been able to forget. SunNYTX: 25:30. Fun theme entries. SunLATX: 20.

I have my own phone again, and with it comes my own answering machine. My answering machine has been packed away since I last used it, college graduation. To my surprise, it still held the last phone messages on it.

1. Hang-up.


2. Professor outlining the requirements of a final paper.


3. Playwright asking for her roommate's gun back.


4. Mother asking about when graduation was to be.


5. Friend informing me that he didn't buy the piñata for the year-end party.


6. Same friend asking when we can pick up piñata.

My outgoing message was also intact. I considered retaining it, but figured that "I've just stepped out for some food; be back in a minute" wouldn't cut it.

I'm thinking of stealing a page from lno's journal and offering prepaid phone time to people all over the country if they call in and inagurate my answering machine. Telecommunicatorily boosting my ego, that's what it's all about.

In sour news, I can't find T.'s phone number. This can certainly be considered a Bad Thing. Now I've got a major incentive to finish my unpacking-cleaning. It must be here somewhere!

This computer now has DSL. It's kind of funny, now, watching the somewhat old computer struggle to keep up with its connection. Talked to T., talked to D, time to sleep.

On my walk yesterday, I had a destination in mind: Target, where I intended to buy some summer clothing for the impending BeachMeet. Target is cheap and has nice knock-offs, and since I'm probably not going to be wearing shorts much in the middle of the night, I don't see the need to spend too much money on them. I also thought (TMI warning) that I would pick up some spare underpants while I was there. One can never have too many underpants. (Well, I suppose that's not really true, but I usually fall on the side of just barely not enough than just barely enough.) Normally, I wear the simple utilitarian boxers that have basic monochrome prints on them, all I need is for them to hold my unmentionables. But my eye was drawn by a two pairs of boxers with Dr. Seuss prints on them. I couldn't resist. I am now proudly wearing a pair of One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish underpants.

It's been a busy day; I only now have a chance to catch my breath. On my way home from work, I'm going to stop by my grandparents' house and wish my grandmother a happy (somewhat belated) birthday. I haven't been there in a while. My grandfather has strident views on society that I have a hard time stomaching, and they were extremely odious to me in the wake of September 11th's attacks. This is not to say that I avoided family gatherings all together, but morning visits to my grandparents usually take place with the running background image of FoxNews. But it has been a while since I've seen them, so it will be nice to drop in. I'm hoping to find a nice bakery or such in Pasadena to pick up a bit of breakfast as a gift.

"Swede Devotion" is on hold by the Enigma editor because its lyrics are too explicit. Apparently I need to revise it to make it acceptable to a "family audience." I guess the Steve Tyler mentality is going to have to go. ThuNYTX: 15. Silly theme, but a very pretty grid. ThuLATX: 10. It's not that unusual to have both puzzle share a word or two, but it's very odd to see them both use the same clue. It is still odder when they both have the same clue number! NYTX14D and LATX14A are identical today.

Still no call back from T. Maybe the phone is fritzing again? I'll call when I get home, and hope I don't fall asleep before a call back.

This morning, I visited the puzzle chat and finally managed to figure out that reading. Then, aided by the help from Tahnan, I was able to crack the final, very difficult, cryptograms. So I then spent most of the night checking and double-checking my answer list. Even a single typo can mar my accomplishment, especially since the solutions editor won't be around to do spot checks.

I had to take a major nap today, though, because I didn't get much sleep. I stayed up far later than I intended because I was running a game of Botticelli that took forever to finish. Apparently "Noah Webster" is a very difficult person to guess, probably because he wrote a book, as Jota said, that wasn't about anything. Then I got myself up early to make it to the aforementioned puzzle chat.

North Carolina gets closer and closer. And I still need more shorts.

Still, I'd better get to sleep again. If the sol editor happens to show up, I'll need to be able to access my mail before 9pm. And I intend to call T., of course.

I have a theory as to why I'm so excited about my upcoming date. I believe it's the first date I've ever been on that is a typical, real first date. That is, my other relationships and dates have usually been with someone whom I know to a certain extent, someone who shares at least some of the same friends, someone with whom I've gone on outings in a non-date capacity. So this is a new thing, for me. A brave new world.

Another thing is that T. has constantly been surprising me, even in the limited interaction we have. She's been smarter, wittier, more open than I could have expected. So when I have internal doubts (will she like this, will we disagree on that) I'm really interested to see how things will turn out, since I know enough not to just expect what is apparent.

SunNYTX: 27. I had to do some research to get the crossing of 83D & 99A, and I'm still not sure about 105D. I'll have to check the answer tomorrow. SunLATX: 25. Some interesting and useful new words in this one, though 32D & 38A gave me a lot of grief. I thought 38A was spelled differently, and I still don't understand 32D. Also, I should really take some time to remember "Prince Valiant's wife," as that's stumped me a few times now.

Only one puzzle left in the 'Nig, and only three days to solve it. Luckily, there's a puzzle chat on Monday, so I can get some guidance figuring out this last rebus.

Finally, if you haven't already, stop by sargent's journal. He's on the horns of a dilemma, right now, and I'm sure that any input would be welcome.

I hate time. Time is what's got everything screwed up now. Time and distance, distance too. And rates, while I'm at it.

Sigh.

So it's possible that, perhaps, something bad might have happened to or in the vicinity of a friend for whom I care very deeply, from whom I am separated by both time and distance and from whom I have yet to hear.

I shouldn't worry this much, I know. It's not quite worry, though. It's a form of adrenaline, I think, a somewhat developed form of the good old fight-or-flight that kicks in when someone I know is in danger. Or may be.

The may be is where I get in trouble, particularly when the friend is far away, particularly when I'm not able to get enough of the facts to even know if I need to do anything, particularly when I'm awake while everyone else is asleep.

I'm pretty sure she's fine now, but I'm still in an informational time warp and can't figure out what's going on.

So I'm just going to calm down and wait for her to get in touch with me.

Then I can also tell her that I asked T. out for next week, and got her phone number.

So this is Part Two of my long Holy Saturday. This is really the more exciting part. It's got God, a cute girl and me getting literally weak in the knees.
( Read on, dear reader. )

My feet have been cleansed, following the mandate of Christ. The cryptic is now pretty much finished and is waiting for its solvers. (I'll update the puzzle when I get home to the same link as listed yesterday. Thanks again, davidglasser, for pointing out some simple errors.) And there's actually been work today, a Court pleading that needed a grammatical tune up.

But returning to the Triduum, Holy Thursday has a very unusual Mass for Catholics. Holy Thursday is the feast celebrating the Last Supper, when Jesus created the sacrament of the Eucharist, around which the entire Mass is structured. So Holy Thursday is a big important feast day. But it's also leading up to Christ's death, which is generally regarded by theologians as a major bummer. So the Mass goes a bit weird. In the middle, the priest shows his humility by washing the feet of the congregation (or, more usually a representative dozen). Then later, the consecrated Host, in the Catholic tradition the true Presence of Jesus Christ is taken in adoration, accompanied by several beautiful Latin hymns, around the church and into the rear of the church by the tabernacle. Then it's over and they turn off the lights. Literally. Depending on one's point of view, it is either the most anticlimactic moment in the Liturgical year, or the best cliffhanger, preparing the attendee for the Passion to come in the rest of the Triduum.
( some personal, non-religion-related musings )

More unfortunateness from the world of personals. J., with whom I have corresponded for near a month and whom I have met in person once (and who is not the aforementioned Miss Alkies), sent me an email today saying that something had happened and she couldn't date anyone right now, but also that she enjoyed our conversations, but further that she's cutting off contact with a lot of people right now. So mixed messages all over. I doubt I'm get an overly dramatic brush off. J. seemed a very open, honest person, and I would expect that she would give me a clean rejection, if that were what she really had in mind. Of course, it's not. The hardest bit is not actually being able to help. No real relationship had launched off of the ground, and I can't push her for information, so all I can do is relax, wish my best, hope for the best. Sad timing.

I dreamt last night that I was on a Pro-Am version of Survivor, with celebs and joes battling for money to go to charity. Matthew Broderick had an annoying habit of talking directly into the cameras that were supposed to follow us unnoticed. Whenever he did, the rest of us cried, "FERRIS BUELLER YOU'RE MY HERO!"