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Had a lovely evening with David last night. Ed, who was supposed to come
over to jam (they both play guitar) canceled, but I did my "keep myself
occupied while they play" chore (laundry) anyway. David's apartment is
almost like home, so I think I'll do my laundry there from now on. I hate
laundry mats.
David and I spent some time surfing sites that I'm not allowed to go to at
work. (On a 28.8 modem, it's a bit more tedious than my T-3 line at
work). There's a phenomenon on the web: web cams. Women (men too, though
they're not as popular) have a little on-line camera that films their
daily activities. We spent some time at the top-rated site (according to
Yahoo!), Aja-cam. Aja, who is admittedly very beautiful, charges $19.95 a
month for a membership that'll give you a new picture every 30 seconds.
The "guest-cam" reloads every 5 minutes; David and I got to see Aja
flicking the ashes off her cigarette (she's a dancer and she *smokes*!?)
and waited 5 minutes to see Aja working on her computer. Whoo-hoo! Oh,
baby.
Still, she must be making a fortune at $20/member/month -- especially
being rated #1 in Yahoo!. It brings us into a whole new category of
"questionable activities"; a new cousin to stripping for a living. I
wonder what it's like, living under the eye of possibly thousands of
people every day. When I was a kid, I used to think that's what
soap-operas were, a live camera filming people's lives. Huh, what a good
story idea, cam-life. Don't worry, mom, I can't afford a cam for
"research" on that story. 'Sides, I'm not really home enough!
I just had the weirdest call. This guy had two accounts open, which happens sometimes here. But he didn't remember opening the second account at all. After a few minutes of discussing which account to cancel, his personality switched and he started talking about the *other* account. He'd been using both accounts - back and forth - and I realized that this guy was probably suffering from a multiple personality disorder. He had no memory from one to the other, and I found myself repeating things I had just said a few minutes ago. I finally just picked the best account to cancel, made a note in his case about my suspicions as to his mental state, and got him off the phone. It was scary, talking to him. Am I living in California yet?
David is leaving for two weeks on Sunday. He's going to Princeton to
support his friend Fran during her PhD Defense, then he's off on his
annual family vacation: scuba diving in the Caribbean. I know. It must
be nice.
Jasmine, his kitty, is pretty much like all female cats: a little
standoffish, but cute as all get-out. She's getting used to me, and I
think we'll be good friends after I care for her for two weeks. She's
used to eating at 5pm, and I won't be getting home until 8pm . . . I guess
she'll just have to get over that.
David let me drive his car around the block last night. I was pleased
that it wasn't like learning a stick for the first time -- I didn't stall
or jerk the car at all. David wasn't as impressed as I wanted him to be,
but oh well. He's right, the big test will be driving on these hills!
Central Indiana (where I'm from) is completely flat.
Mom *and* David complained about me calling myself a "kid" in yesterday's entry, even though I'm 25 years old. I was just trying to make clear the difference in ages at that party, and I defaulted to the simplest distinction. I *am* an adult -- I pay my own bills etc. I just consider myself young.