February 5th, 2003


cable secrets

I still don't have cable Internet. The guy didn't come Monday, or else came and left without checking with me. The guy on the phone said his notes (on the computer) said the problem was fixed. But it wasn't. So we scheduled a visit for this afternoon. I am not really hopeful, but surely it can't be that hard.

I asked why the television works but the computer line doesn't. The guy said yes, they are in the same fiber optic cable but they are separate. So the Internet line can indeed be not performing while the tv line is fine.


I think sometimes we tend, some of us, to remember the bad things people say about us longer than we remember the good. To make sure I don't do that I am recording two recent compliments here:

Yesterday as I was standing in line at Starbucks, a woman I had never seen before asked me if my hair "did that naturally". I said yes, and she said I was very lucky. It was beautiful.

Today Carolyn was looking at my report on second units and she shook her head and said "If you could get paid for what you write you'd be a rich woman". Of course I *do* get paid, my hourly rate, but I knew what she meant.

A while back, years ago actually, my then-supervisor told me he was envious of my writing ability. Said he struggled every time he had to write something and would write and rewrite and it still wouldn't sound right, and here I was just tossing it out there off the top of my head. Or so he thought. I pointed out that I had spent quite a bit of time consciously teaching myself to write better and I still do. But he felt I had an edge he would never have.

What's nice is when people compliment things that I have actually worked on, that I have strived to do well. The hair? Well, what the hell, I chose a good hair stylist, had good hair genes.

(no subject)

Sometimes, it's not the fist in your belly that gets to you.
Sometimes, it's when they're quiet, even polite.
Sometimes, it's how they look at you day after day that finally gets to you.
They squint at you, like they can't see.
It's as if by squinting
they might get a better make on you.
If they're in a crowd, they shift their eyes
so their friends can't tell they're looking at you.
Real subtle.
You can read the fear behind the smirk,
The hatred just past the disgust.
You worry it's your paranoia.
and you always hope it's only your paranoia.
(Confidence, they've told you, helps you pass.)
But there's always one of them who looks at you with longing.
And that scares you the most,
Because if you let that longing into your heart, you have to accept yourself
just the way you are.

from Gender Outlaw by Kate Bornstein

I like it, not just for how it describes the quandary of the transgendered, but really a universal experience at times, for different reasons.

oh yeah, the cable

It was my fault. I connected the cable splitter to a cable that came from the VCR, not from the outside. It was a connection from the cable box to the VCR that ended at the VCR. I wiggled the line and thought I had the one that went into the floor but I didn't.

Embarrassing, especially considering there were four cable guys in here.