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.
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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