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miscellany
Sep. 30th, 2008 06:23 pmOne of my favourite episodes of Sports Night is "Intellectual Property", mostly because it combines the a) incredibly sweet (Dan! Sings Happy Birthday to Casey live on air! It's vaguely gay!) and b) incredibly geeky (It's against the law to be vaguely gay sing Happy Birthday on air!* It's still in copyright!) but also because of what Dana says to Natalie, later. "What's the last good idea you had?"
Quoth Natalie, "When I woke up this morning, I decided not to stick my hand in the blender."
It's been that sort of a day.
Things achieved today:
-Not throwing myself into traffic at any point, by the simple expedients of hiding in libraries and toilet cubicles and other such places where this would be a) messy and b) inconvenient.
(This is a judgement on me, I feel. Yesterday I went to see my sweet, reassuring and competent GP, who said he was glad that the citalopram was working for me, it was good to hear I was feeling better, asked about my past history with depression and then, contemplatively, what my degree and post-grad are in. "PPE, then law," he said, still contemplatively. "Well, you're not very stupid, are you?"
It pleased me. Anyway, of course I start acting like an overwrought lunatic the day after I assure a doctor I'm quite sane, thank you.)
-Losing my house keys, by the similarly simple expedient of being a fucking idiot. I have lost a single key off a ring. I have not lost my bike key (for which there is a spare), my house key for up north (for which my parents have spares), or my room key (which I never use) or the remote access control on the ring (of which there are several). It is my fucking house key, for which the spare is missing.
-I had a bath. This actually wasn't an achievement. I mention it because I managed it without major disaster.
-I saw a car with an Obama bumper sticker! This was exciting.
-And, finally, went down to our letting agency with my housemates, and met the obstructive, rude and obnoxious woman responsible for sorting out our new contract. It was a horrible experience, especially coming after a day of ick, but at least she was unambiguously awful and wrong. We don't understand, she said, we don't understand the difficulty in drawing up a contract. We don't understand.
At which point I could have, but didn't, pull Poole's 667-page Textbook of Contract Law out of my bag. But I didn't. Scratch everything, that was my big achievement for the day.
In other news, my mother had, when she was about seventeen, an enormous crush on a Hindi film star called Dev Anand. She saw all his films, she cut pictures of him out of magazines, the whole shebang.
Today, nearly forty years on, she met him. She saw he was doing a book signing on a poster, and went and was first in line to buy tickets and sat at the front and asked him a question and was breathlessly, flailingly excited. She just rang me up and shrieked, "I met Dev Anand!"
I think, all in all, she had a successful day.
* This is not actually true.
Quoth Natalie, "When I woke up this morning, I decided not to stick my hand in the blender."
It's been that sort of a day.
Things achieved today:
-Not throwing myself into traffic at any point, by the simple expedients of hiding in libraries and toilet cubicles and other such places where this would be a) messy and b) inconvenient.
(This is a judgement on me, I feel. Yesterday I went to see my sweet, reassuring and competent GP, who said he was glad that the citalopram was working for me, it was good to hear I was feeling better, asked about my past history with depression and then, contemplatively, what my degree and post-grad are in. "PPE, then law," he said, still contemplatively. "Well, you're not very stupid, are you?"
It pleased me. Anyway, of course I start acting like an overwrought lunatic the day after I assure a doctor I'm quite sane, thank you.)
-Losing my house keys, by the similarly simple expedient of being a fucking idiot. I have lost a single key off a ring. I have not lost my bike key (for which there is a spare), my house key for up north (for which my parents have spares), or my room key (which I never use) or the remote access control on the ring (of which there are several). It is my fucking house key, for which the spare is missing.
-I had a bath. This actually wasn't an achievement. I mention it because I managed it without major disaster.
-I saw a car with an Obama bumper sticker! This was exciting.
-And, finally, went down to our letting agency with my housemates, and met the obstructive, rude and obnoxious woman responsible for sorting out our new contract. It was a horrible experience, especially coming after a day of ick, but at least she was unambiguously awful and wrong. We don't understand, she said, we don't understand the difficulty in drawing up a contract. We don't understand.
At which point I could have, but didn't, pull Poole's 667-page Textbook of Contract Law out of my bag. But I didn't. Scratch everything, that was my big achievement for the day.
In other news, my mother had, when she was about seventeen, an enormous crush on a Hindi film star called Dev Anand. She saw all his films, she cut pictures of him out of magazines, the whole shebang.
Today, nearly forty years on, she met him. She saw he was doing a book signing on a poster, and went and was first in line to buy tickets and sat at the front and asked him a question and was breathlessly, flailingly excited. She just rang me up and shrieked, "I met Dev Anand!"
I think, all in all, she had a successful day.
* This is not actually true.
