Sunday, February 17th 2002 - The Joy Beyond Links and Fish-Heads
Either Holly or Tim remarked today that our house is becoming like a sitcom. I'm the star (of course), being as I'm the connection between my boyfriend and my sister; this means I get picked on more than either of them. I understand, they feel the need to gang up on me to show solidarity; in their own way, they're expressing how much they love me by learning to work together. To tease me. And torture me. I'm so lucky. This weekend started off quite lovely. Friday afternoon I was dragged into my boss's office "for a talk". I think I must've been squirming in my chair, because Janice assured me "It's not bad news" before Christophe (our Fish Head) even started speaking. So, here's the good news Tim was telling you about: I'm the new book buyer at Blowfish. Yes, this is addition to my other job(s) (admin side of advertising and some customer service and shipping duties). I will probably have to bump up my work week from 35 hours to 40 (which I have mixed feelings about; more money, but I also will have less time for myself). They've been wanting to split the buying duties for awhile now, and now that I think about it, I'll bet they had this in mind when they hired me. Still, I've only worked there 4 months and I'm getting new, cooler responsibilities! I'll get paid to sit around and read erotica! I'll get paid to write short reviews! By the hour! Ok, so there's still all the other bits of my job that aren't reading and reviewing (such as keeping stuff in stock, gulp!), but I'm still very excited. Ironically, I have been keeping a list of books I think we should carry that we don't; now I'm the one who gets to go after them. I decide what books are good enough for us to carry. I have POWER! Whoo! Saturday morning was strange in that I was awake while it was still morning (usually refuse to get up before noon on weekends). Still, it was a good reason: brunch in Sacramento with Sean Klein, Ling, Kelly Link and Karen Joy Fowler. We were a little flustered when we arrived (we'd gotten lost, though I'm not entirely sure it was our fault), but we soon fell into the groove of things. Sean makes a mean bean soup, very spicy and tasty. The talk was of novels, mostly, and it was odd not to hear Tim popping in with his advice on noveling; later I found out the talent in the room had made him shy, which I would never have expected from Tim; he doesn't get star-struck that easily. I even talked about my (as yet unwritten) novel, mainly the fact that I'm *more* excited about the middle bits now than the ending (Karen seemed to think this was to my advantage, as the topic of the day was the page 120 slump most authors experience). Anyway. The company was lovely. I wished we could've had more time to hang out with everyone, as it was a really nice mix of people - enough that you didn't feel the need to talk if you didn't have much to say, but few enough that everyone *did* get a chance to chat. After Karen and Kelly and Ling left, Tim and I got a tour of Sean and his wife Brenda's lovely home. It made me itch to own a home, as you could tell they put a lot of energy into making it unique and lovely. Renting, one just doesn't get to pick out cool bathroom fixtures and paint the walls fun colors (well, the latter you do get to do if you're Susan, but anyway). Sacramento, at least that part of it, is a sweet little town. The park alone is enough to make me think about moving there; it's just as far as Santa Cruz and probably not anywhere near as expensive . . . Saturday night I had the house to myself; Tim was off writing in Berkeley and Holly was out with Justin. It was raining so hard I felt as if I was surrounded by a wall of water and sound; very cozy. I had David come over and hang out with me a bit, which was nice. I almost always go over to his house these days, so I have some leverage to get him to come out, even when it's raining so hard. This morning I was actually sick for a few hours, which really annoyed me. It felt like a brief attack of the virus from a few weeks ago; just some migraine and vomiting to remind me that I'm still not completely recovered. Tim hung out with me for awhile until he couldn't keep himself from working any longer (the boy has been a machine lately), and he sent Holly in to keep my company. Holly snuggled beside me and even tried to read to me (at my request) from Perdido Street Station: Holly: "Chapter Thirty-Four" - oh, great, like I'm going to have any idea what's going on . . . Heather: Just read. Holly:"Chapter Thirty-Four. In the Lemquist Room, Rudgutter, Stem-Fulcher and Rescue held a council of war." -- What kind of names are these? (skimming the page) What's a "Ghrashietnich"? Heather: It's ok if you can't read it to me, you know. Holly: Oh, good. How are you feeling? Let's go bed shopping. Since I was actually feeling better, I agreed to take her to Bed, Bath and Beyond. Foolishly, I thought that Holly's hatred of shopping would make this a quick trip and that I would enjoy helping her spend money (since I'm broke). Hundreds of dollars and more than 2 hours later, I realized that was a mistake; I had just spent my energy for the day in a windowless room with nothing but bedding - none of it in the colors Holly wanted. She ended up with a fauz mink duvet cover, a real goose-down comforter, half-down pillows and some Egyptian cotton sheets. Oh, and two throw pillows that cost more than my entire bed ensemble. She's happy. I vegetated on the couch, occasionally suffering tickling from Tim. We watched the Simpsons, Malcom. I sat down and wrote a journal entry. Tim just came in and hugged me and annouced the upcoming "Club Sam-ich" that he's going to produce soon in the kitchen. I think I'll go supervise. Have a good Monday, y'all.	Exercise Log: Over two hours in Bed Bath and Beyond, proving without a doubt that they don't carry burgandy queen-size sheets. Writing log: Came up with new setting for the body story, which makes it much less likely to be heavy handed. Know structure too; should be good and easy to write when I'm next in writing mood. However. This weekend I can barely speak in such a way that my own *sister* and *boyfriend* can glean meaning from my garbled speech; not a good weekend for me to be trying anything rash such as writing. Current Publications: "How to Suck" reprinted in From Porn to Poetry: Clean Sheets Celebrates the Erotic Mind I'm currently reading: Perdido Street Station by China Mieville One of the perks of toting this book around is the very hot photo of China on the back. Yum. Another perk is really, really good story.
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