Subway reading

I’ve been loooooaving Vestal McIntyre’s You Are Not the One on the train this week: the story “Octo,” about a 13-year-old with behavioral problems and his pet octopus nearly had me bawling Wednesday evening, and “Dunford,” in which a man’s midlife crisis peaks in a carwash, made me snort out loud last night. I’m doing my best to pace myself so it lasts as long as possible (luckily, a slew of magazines has arrived this week: ReadyMade, Cooking Light, and two Budget Livings).

The past few mornings I’ve been especially thankful for an engaging book — my Red Line seatmate yesterday was poring over a PowerPoint printout on Holistic Sales Optimization (ugh! ugh!), and the guy next to me today was studiously underlining a photocopied Chapter 12: Hope for Gender Wholeness: Restoring the True Feminine, which as far as I could tell was some antifeminist claptrap. His marginalia included “wisdom = feminine,” “Capacity to listen and receive “BE,” and “M = obedient warrior for God.”

What a crap day: departmentwide fire drills so we could show some new promotion to the CEO mid-afternoon, one of the bigwigs pissed at me for a mistake I made in his newsletter yesterday, and hordes of people bugging me for stuff that I couldn’t work on because of the fire drill. It didn’t help that feels like M. Piedlourde has been kicking me in the abdomen with great gusto and vigor since I woke up.

But! I only cried once today, and it was in the ladies’ room when no one else was around. Tomoko will be picking Kevin and me up shortly for a long overdue dinner in Davis, and there will be cocktails, oh my yes.


  1. From Paula on 02/28/05

    Aw, sorry you’re having a stressful time, P. Fallacy! Maybe you need to read ComCurm and have a laugh?

  2. From editrix on 02/28/05

    Thanks, m’dear. Those types of days are pretty rare, and today has been a lot better. If only my eyelid would stop twitching!

    Don’t you worry — I’ve read every word Josh has written therein. If only he’d hurry up and finish his danged vacation!

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