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sleep, possible housemate, etc.
Saturday, August 12 2000
I had to hang out in my house all day in case the phone rang with someone wanting to rent my extra bedroom. I napped, I masturbated to pictures of a certain online journal keeper, and I periodically did things on my computer. I was hopeful when I saw a locally-advertised yard sale, but when the guy wanted to sell me a couch for $300, all I could do was sigh. My budget seems to demand that I dumpster dive my furniture.
Eventually this chick named Miranda, responding to a Westside Rentals ad, came by to check out the room. She wasn't really very hot, but in a pinch I'd do her. Anyway, she saw my guitar amp and asked if I was into partying and loud music and I said no, that I spent a lot of time working on my computer. She seemed kind of reluctant. She's like this writer sort of chick who works for a Hollywood movie script editing business in the same building as me. She said she'd call back tonight with her decision, but she hasn't called back.
[REDACTED]
She told me she just broke up with her boyfriend to better pursue her profession, but she's in her late 20s.
Tonight I was reading some of my early online journal entries, the ones from the very beginnings of my online journal keeping, August 1996. I was delighted by how much content I managed to cram into those brief little entries. I remember at the time feeling that I would never have enough time to write the sort of entries I was used to writing in my written journals (kept since April, 1983). So I did my best to compress my experiences, even the ones that would take me 12 kilobytes to document in a satisfying recent entry, into brief paragraphs. Reading these accounts, it seems I did an excellent job. That August 1996 diary text is action-packed and contains very few dull parts. Of course, it's important to note I was just coming off the Big Fun craziness at the time. If I was ever forced to write like that again, I think my writing would benefit. Indeed, there was actually a brief stint of this style of writing at the beginning of Randomly Ever After, but I soon gave it up when I realized I could work on my journal in my workplace and people (particularly the Grand Pooh Bah) just thought all that typing was an indication of industriousness.
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