Work Diary, 2/28/04

Work Diary, 2/28/04

Let's see?

1. The maid left a few hours ago. Since then, I've been doing a facial.
None of that betoweled-my-eyebrows-are-perfect-even-while-I-poop junk
for me. I splash and gargle and leave wet towels in my wake like some
Hollywood superstar on a desert set. I do stop short of heaving my
noggin in a sinkful of ice cubes a la Joan Crawford, but still it's a
mess. The maid left the bathroom sparkling and I've left it with
spatters of cucumber mask and mint-flavored something-or-other that's
supposed to close one's pores and leave one feeling refreshed and -
hold on - yes, refreshed and vibrant. I ate some of the stuff and, sure
enough, I do feel vibrant. I can feel my teeth vibrating right out of
my head.

2. Why am I doing this? Because I have a date with the Alfred tomorrow
morning. Yes, "tomorrow morning" and, yes, I called him "the Alfred."
He's seven years younger than I and you can't tell. I'd like to keep it
that way.

3. At any rate, the Alfred turned me on to an Ursula LeGuin book called
"The Left Hand of Darkness." I read it, and promptly went out to my
local used bookstore to buy him the entire "Dune" series. Ursula's good
but I swear the woman lifted her material - at least, for this book -
right out of Frank Herbert's head. I'm not a Sci-Fi fan, so maybe
that's just the way it is in the Sci-Fi culture, but it bugs the hell
out of me. Please, please correct me if I'm wrong
(allen.banks@ocas.com).

4. I gave up sweets for Lent. I'm not Catholic, but I like the whole
Lent thing, its anti-hedonistic character. It appeals to me in an
I'm-an-atheist-but-it-sure-is-pretty kind of way. Is that wrong? Will
Mel Gibson show up on my doorstep with a can of red paint and a
simpering smile? What the hell does "Lent" mean, anyway?

5. My left eye tooth is so sharp that I've been peeling my fingernails
with it for years. Apparently this isn't an attractive habit. My boss
pointed it out last week, right when I was getting ready to cash in my
stock and move someplace with less?inhabitants. You know, if you can't
groom in public?

6. My dog has a lump on her ribcage (it checked out; she's okay). I had
one of those once. I expect to have one again. In less than two years,
I'll be the same age as my mother when she died. Isn't that weird? I
feel so young, part of a generation where nothing can go wrong (in -
ahem - the long run), and yet my mother was dead at essentially my
current age. What, really, will happen when I'm gone? All I know is
that a couple of people will be very, very rich. Why are they selling
life insurance to somebody my age, anyway?

7. Currently my feet are immersed in a machine full of water. This
machine has a pointy bottom and it's supposed to keep the water I
poured into it hot. Never believe the box, I say. The whole house is
humming along with this footbath and it even woke up my ex. So, why am
I punching away at a highly-powered computer with my feet in water? God
knows. I just don't like being cold.