Tuesday August 7. 2001
Just to give you an idea of my state of mind lately, here is a paragraph from an email I wrote to John while he was at work today:
"school was fine. work was good. i had a good sub for dinner. it was good.
come to think of it, that's all i had to eat yesterday. oh well. it was a
big sub. from Wawa. :)"
My mind is mush from all this stress, not eating enough, not sleeping enough, etc etc. It's taken me 15 minutes just to write this entry thus far. Please bear with me.
The imminent lack of housing situation has become little better. I had emailed my friend Drea a couple days ago (on Jury's suggestion) and asked if I could possibly live with her. She came into the studio yesterday and we talked out the logistics. It's only a one bedroom apartment, but she said she could convert the living room into my bedroom. Her apartment is in Fox Chase, which is somewhere in the Northeast, but only about 15 minutes from school. So. It seems cool. Only I saw her today and she gave me a whole bunch of numbers and people to contact about rooms and apartments for rent. While I really appreciated that, it made me think that she was trying to send me some sort of signal that she would prefer me to not live with her. I dunno.
I also called an apartment complex in North Philly and asked about their rates if I was renting for four months, and it ended up being $600 for a studio apartment. Owie. Jeez, it's not like this is Lower Manhattan or something. Actually, come to think of it, $600 studios in Lower Manhattan probably don't exist...
My email forwarding has not been working the past 5 or 6 days. So if anyone has been trying to email me at firstname.lastname@example.org, it's been getting bounced back. You're going to have to use email@example.com, which is my real address. This has been an unnecessary source of stress, especially since the webhosting John and I are using is supposed to be the best out there. Big companies and online businesses use this webhosting. Using it for our meager little personal pages, to quote Scott, is like using a bazooka to kill a housefly. So we're switching. In fact, we've already switched, I just haven't had a chance to upload Hejira on their server yet, because Hejira is a fucking enormous website - almost 27 megabytes. Do you have any idea how long it's going to take to upload 27 mb on a dial-up connection? Yes. A fucking long time.
I had entertained thoughts of trying to somehow get into the CAD lab at school to use the lovely network connection, but it's going to be closed for at least a couple more weeks.
Before John left on Sunday, he gave me the clam shell from Cape Cod that I had left in his car. It had been sitting in the exact same place where I had placed it after plucking it off the sand near Wellfleet Pier. The inside of the shell was a lovely lavender color. There was still sand stuck to it. I carefully brushed it off the shell, and it collected at the bottom of the shell in two little piles. I want to find some sort of amulet to put the sand in so I can always carry a little bit of Cape Cod around with me and treasure all the memories that we made there.
One Year Ago:
"As politcally incorrect as it was, she did look like something out of Star Wars."