Quiet Day
Today was a rainy, cool, quiet kind of day.
I spent a huge amount of time at the computer, which was giving me fits. I can’t figure out if it was my problem or an AOL problem, but I was having major browser and server difficulties. I’d try to go to a site and would get timed out, frozen or denied access. In that I have no firewalls here, it was a frustrating puzzle.
I was surfing other journals as well as trying to find affordable New York City accommodations. I think that’s an oxymoron. They don’t exist. So unless Dee, who returns from a two-week vacation tonight, feels like going away again for a weekend, I’m shit out of luck.
And really bummed about it.
I sent Michael an e-mail yesterday, sort of a "hey how ya doin’" kind of light and breezy note. I am a glutton for punishment. Have I heard back from him?
No.
Do I check every half-hour to see if he’s responded?
Of course.
And my heart sinks each time his return address doesn’t appear.
I am an idiot.
And, given my history, am likely to continue as such.
I’m working on a collaged box, and I’m at the point where I’m applying the polyurethane finish. The place is well ventilated. I think I’m still managing to asphyxiate the cat and myself.
This was a totally experimental project, involving crackle medium, stamped images and using gold acrylic paint to achieve an antiqued look. There have been all sorts of problems along the way, starting with the crackle medium not crackling. (I eventually sponged and spattered to get the look I more or less wanted.) I think I’m going to be fairly happy with the results once I’ve really got it finished.
And I’ve learned along the way.
I’ve also put things away after finishing with them, rather than leaving a trail. This is an unusual occurrence.
I’ve noticed a very strange trend in my reading material. The last three books I’ve purchased all have a very similar cover design. All three feature drawings of legs from the mid-thigh down. They are colorful covers and the books don’t really have much in common. One is Stately Pleasures, which I mentioned a couple of entries ago, another is A Ghost for Maggie a soppy romance that should take a couple hours to read, and the last is The Clairvoyant which is also lighthearted fiction.
But what’s with all the lower limbs? Is this now considered to be sophisticated and trendy? It must have worked for me, as covers often catch my eye and determine whether or not I bother to pick up the book to read the synopsis.
I just started Stately Pleasures last night, so I’m not sure if I’m going to like it or not. I was having trouble with some very British references and some slang, so I think I’m missing the humor. I’m not exactly au courant on that stuff.
No sense in droning on about nothing. Off to see if I can unearth the top of the coffee table before I go to bed.
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