Sitch.

I'm still waiting for the first gorram interview for the tech position, by the way. Things crawl. Also posted for a QC position.

My supervisor is a...not a saint, but you can see why there are such things as saints when you understand her situation here. She's not a patient woman. She's freaking out. She's losing staff left and right, because juicy positions are opening up all over the place, nobody will give her anybody else to fill the empty spots, and she just keeps encouraging us to try for the next thing. A good woman--not "saintly," but human and forcing herself to be good for the rest of us.

Anyway.

Lee and I "switched." He was doing full-time and I was working part-time at opposite hours--so we could keep Ray at home. He's now doing fewer hours and I'm working full-time.

I like it. I feel like I can get a day's work done. Satisfying, when you've been fighting for a year to get a day's work done but failing. Daily.

I farted around tonight, had some sushi (which may have come to symbolize both spring and non-motherhood for me), read a book, drank a decaf mocha--in short, luxuriated. When I came home, Lee had cleaned the house, made supper for himself and Ray, and run herd all day.

He looked like I must have looked when he would fall all over himself trying to make me feel less motherly. I asked if I could do anything--he looked so frustrated.

I think we'll be okay, but there are just days that go on far, far, far too long when you have a toddler, no matter how well they go. Maybe that's something you can only realize when you see it on someone else's face.

Swan Palace.

From the menu of my favorite Chinese place in town:

Honey Glazed Walnut Shrimp: Shimp in a light batter in snow-white sarcastic lemon, in comination with mayonnaise, surrounding with honey glazed roasted walnut and topped wtih sesame seeds. What a tantalizing combination!

--I haven't been brave enough to try it yet.

Canton Steamed Whole Fish: Steamed and topped with ginger and scallions with our special light soy sauce. Healthy and nutritional. Dietician's lover! (Please allow approzimately 30 minutes for preparation.)

--No comment.

Thoughts on Writing.

Talking to Lee last night, here are some things that I know:

• When you sit down to write a story, you should ask yourself "Why?"
  
• If all you're trying to do is entertain someone, that's good but probably not honest.
  
• If you're trying to "make people think" by telling them your opinion, that's not a story.
  
• Everybody hates the story that's about rape or abortion or God or whatever--about one thing in particular.
  
• Unless...it's a good story.
  
• What makes a good story is that there's something at risk.
  
• Including your own opinion.
  
• If it's a story that's just your opinion, and you never make your opinion at risk, you're just preaching.
  
• Even if you're preaching that preaching is bad.
  
• Nobody wants to read a story about "God is good."
  
• But people might read a story about "God is good. God is all-powerful. Evil exists."
  
• There's this Esther Friesner story, whose title I can't remember, about abortion.
  
• She's said about it, "People tell me they're not sure after reading the story whether I'm for or against abortion. That's what I was trying for."
  
• So if your story is good versus evil, you have to make both sides strong enough to win.
  
• Or whatever.
  
• Because if it was a foregone conclusion, you shouldn't have written it in the first place.
  

Right. You know you're doing something right when you dream about Jimmy Stewart.

Another cute kid moment.

In the grocery store. For some reasons, bananas are still pronounced "mnans," even though Rachael can say "beautiful" clearly.

"Mnans! Mnans!"

Since bananas are her favorite fruit in the world, I give her a couple. Mind you, she still thinks tomatoes are apples, but she's a good kid nonetheless.

She clutches the bananas to her chest.

"I monkey," she announces.

When I tell Lee, he says, "She's right."

He seems proud.

Poor, Poor Marilyn Manson.

It's pretty bad, poor guy.

I'm drivin' along, listening to a rock station, when the MM version of "Sweet Dreams" comes on.

Ray's with me.

She starts howling. Then she growls. Then she howls some more.

We both crack up.

Luck.

I'm putting in for a tech writer position at work.

Wish me luck.

cube meditation #1

rest;
make gaps to be filled in later;
space;
inconsequentialize incessancies.

calgon: where were you when i needed you the most?
japanese flute music & little old men w/ brooms: hiding behind the inbox
count your blessings, count to ten: you must be joking!
take a deep breath: here? with this air?

the cry of an eagle in a beer commercial
memory of driving on window roads, rainy, in the woods,
by the lake, and the smells thereof
restless sleep
deep

Rough Month

I took a shower yesterday, and I knew that the last couple of months were over when it felt like a crust of scabs just fell off my entire body.

Whew.

My daughter is becoming a pre-schooler, and my husband is having an early mid-life crisis. But it's mostly okay now.

Chain Letter: Warning, read at your own risk. Via my brother Matt.

Hello, my name is Amber and I suffer from the guilt of not forwarding 50 billion chain letters sent to me by people who actually believe that if you send them on, a poor 6-year-old girl in Arkansas with a breast on her forehead will be able to raise enough money to have it removed before her redneck parents sell her to a traveling freak show.

Do you honestly believe that Bill Gates is going to give you, and everyone to whom you send "his" email, $1000?

"Ooooh, looky here! If I scroll down this page and make a wish, I'll get laid by a model I just happen to run into the next day!"

What a bunch of bull.

Maybe the evil chain letter leprechauns will come into my house and kill me in my sleep for not continuing a chain letter that was started by Peter in 5 AD and brought to this country by midget pilgrims on the Mayflower.

If you're going to forward something, at least send me something mildly amusing. I've seen all the "send this to 10 of your closest friends,and this poor, wretched excuse for a human being will somehow receive a nickel from some omniscient being" forwards about 90 times. Think about what you're actually contributing to by sending out these forwards. Chances are, it's our own unpopularity.

The point being? If you get some chain letter that's threatening to leave you shagless or luckless for the rest of your life, delete it. If it's funny, send it on. Don't make people feel guilty about a leper in Botswana with no teeth who has been tied to the ass of a dead elephant for 27 years and whose only salvation is the 5 cents per letter
he'll receive if you forward this email.

Now forward this to everyone you know. Otherwise, tomorrow morning your underwear will turn carnivorous and will consume your genitals.