Dear Diary . . . day by day

Wednesday, September 12th, 2001 - Finding normal

I keep remembering people that I know in NYC, like my old housemates, Jen and Aron, my current housemate, Jeanine (who is visiting on vacation) and my old college friends, Colin and Christine (both in different parts of the city, and I think Colin might be in Brooklyn). I've sent emails to those I have, but I can't find Colin's number and I've not been in touch with Christine in years. If any mutual friends can confirm the safety of these or any other peole I might know, please email me at: gryffyn@there.net. My lanminds.com address seems to be bouncing the past few days.
Lighter news now.
Last Saturday, Tim and I went on a lovely, day-long date. I drove into the City (and I wasn't even all stressed out, which was nice for a change; usually driving in SF fills me with rage and/or dread) and we spent a few hours wandering around the Japanese Tea Garden in Golden Gate Park. So serene and lovely, and laid out so that it never quite feels crowded. We had sprawled out on some benches and were reading short stories to one another when Sherman surprised us. He was with some friends, out for a day on the town as well. Neat. He went on his way and I lay on my back, pondering the patterns in the treetops as Tim read me another story. Lovely.
We went to the Cliff House, where we discovered (by looking at the menu only, thank gods) the meaning of overpriced food. We spent awhile feeding quarters into old games and dioramas in the Mechanical Museum in the basement - very fun. We stared out at the ocean for a bit, mused over the remains of the old Sutro Baths, and decided to go get Chinese food in Albany at Liu's. I had their yummy fake Sweet-n-Sour Chicken (Tim had the real bird). Back home we watched TV on tapes (Sex and the City, which is bringing up a new topic of relationship conversation with every episode), made mad love and eventually went to bed.
Last night I actually did a bit of writing. Tim needed a certain type of poem to fill one of the poetry slots for the next issue of Speculon, so I told him I'd write one. He cautioned me that it would have to "kick ass" so that he didn't get shit for running a poem by his girlfriend. I had a pretty good conceit, and once I sat down to write it took only about 15 minutes to complete. I read it to Tim, and he liked it. Told me I'd be sorry I sold it to him, as it's really very good. I was very, very pleased; it was definitely the high point of my day. I considered holding onto it and sending it to Asimov's or Strange Horizons instead, but I figured I'd written it at Tim's request, so he deserved to have it. Besides, I wanted to be in my boyfriend's poetry section, and there's no way he'd ever take anything from me that he didn't absolutely love.
That's it for now. I'm going to go do something normal, like make dinner for my loved one.

Exercise log:
100 situps on Monday and today.
Writing log:
Wrote a lovely poem last night.
Current Publications:
San Francisco City Guide at EGrad.com. Please note that my original article was twice as long as this one, and I wasn't the one who did the editing.
Under the Daddy Tree an article on Nalo Hopkinson's Midnight Robber in Strange Horizons. Warning: If you haven't read the book, this article will spoil all the plot twists for you; so go buy her book and read it first!
I'm currently reading:
Earthquake Weather by Tim Powers
The Strange Adventures of Rangergirl by Tim Pratt
Okay, so I'm just reading the very rough first draft of the chapters fresh off the 'puter, but damn, it's already good!
flyboy action figure comes with gasmask by Jim Munroe
My new PO Box is:
Heather Shaw
P.O. Box 13222
Berkeley, CA 94712-4222

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