August 15, 2003

• (I must be really psychic!   Not only was I looking into nonelectric appliances Wednesday night, but I wrote this a second before the record massive East Coast and Canadian blackout yesterday afternoon.   As soon as I hit the "Submit" button, Xanga went down.  I don't understand why our electric power grid is so centralized and vulnerable; I thought every major city had its own power plant, operating independently of others.  Bruce says some joker probably hacked into the Emergency Blackout System to expose an Achilles' heel.  That would explain why lower Canada was hit when it's not even our country.  For border patrol......But then what kind of aerial attack would they be anticipating, I asked, that they'd have to pull a total shut down?  Men from Mars?!?   "They say radio waves are dangerous, the way they keep going into outer space, able to be picked up by alien planets."  My friend just laughed.  "This is the nuclear age, Tina; there's no time to warn everybody."  Scary.)

  
  

  Ever since this weblogging, I feel like I have a dull life. One has to DO constantly--"today I did blank and blank and blank"--judging by fellow bloggers, or it's no good. Blehhh, I'm in a bad mood. I don't know what all the hype is about the Swedish home interiors chain IKEA; when they opened in our area, peeps were lined up around the block before dawn.  They weren't white supremist; merely another righteous cultural style to add to the design melting pot.  Most of their furniture is so flimsy it looks like it belongs in a playhouse. I can't believe they dare to sell bunk beds. The support posts look like chopsticks. Every fraternity man I know would be crashing to the floor after one night. But anything to save a buck, I s'pose.  Yeah, we went there Saturday, me and Ellie, with her cousin Marie Jonnesy, the one with the insanely jealous competitive older sister who formed her own theatre company and won't even offer Marie, a gifted creative writer, a job. Kind of like not being invited to your own birthday party.  Then Joleen gripes how "baby sister's" such an "underachiever" and "wasted" her education, just cuz her B.A. in English didn't land her a cushy job right after graduation. What a toad. Everybody knows that, unless you go into law or teaching, English, like most of the liberal arts, is basically an adventure in higher education. And there's so many college grads nowadays, a degree is no sure ticket to a good job except for engineers, bio-scientists, and a few other career-oriented majors. Still, a university background is profile A. Joleen, a high school dropout, spoiled and full of herself on a rah-rah special income enhancement program for disadvantaged women, has nothing to brag about and doesn't know jack schit. As they say, they can never take your education away from you. Ellie and I took turns boosting Marie's ego in the store cafe over the proverbial Swedish meatball lunch. I admit I sort of enjoyed it; it was refreshing to let off steam over something I can identify with. And I did pick up some nifty kitchen things for the house.

  
  

  Brett better get his cute little ass down here.  His gigless buddy's been hitting on me every weekend.  I turned down a picnic at Lake Merced Sunday, saying I was "getting back into The Church."

  
  

  "No kidding," Bruce snorted, rubbing it in how Mom'd said I'd slept through late morning mass, making my ride turn back without me.  "Now, that was rudeness."

  
  

  Chelle,who called this morning to tell me her Mom's on a Nouriche diet (that new Yoplait yogurt smoothie) and driving her bananas, has no inklilng what's been going on. 

  • 2:30 pm
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