A Muddled Road
21 April 1999
6:28 PM: Hello and so on. Wa. Hoo. We now return to my life, already in regress.
Not much to say, I'm afraid. Got my Federal refund check, this one I get to keep. So now I can start to figure out if I really truly can go to Melbourne for the Worldcon this fall. And if can, will? Evil cheap computers whisper seductively in my ear. I'm disillusioned with things, though. I think it's time to be disappointed by places instead for a while.
I wonder Wells Fargo has a Virtual Parent Savings Acccount? Where they make you justify every dollar you want to withdraw, and even if they give it to you, you have to listen to them talk about how spendthrift kids these days are. Hmm, one can think of several variations on this. Naughty Nurse Savings & Loan.
Finally saw "The Zeppo" on Buffy last night, missed that the first time around. Mmmmm, Faith. As Bender said about the circuit diagram, "Oh you're a bad girl, I like you." And notice how much calmer a young boy can be after sex. Funny how that works. Next week, at long fucking last, an actual new episode. I guess five of them, in all, and then that's probably it for the season. More waiting.
That's OK, though, I enjoy my not-bombed housing with running water, my electricity to run light bulbs and refrigerators and microwave ovens, my still-standing neighborhood bars. I have been trying to think of what it is that I want to do with myself and all that birthday rot, and honestly, nothing springs very vigorously to mind. I would like to not become poor, old, and crippled. So I suppose I ought to be able to reason backwards from that to a course of action in the right now. Step 1: Avoid being run over by trains or buses.
Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.
All names are fake, most places are real, the author is definitely unreliable but it's all in good fun. Yep.
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The motto at the top of the page is a graffito I saw on Brunswick Street in Melbourne.