So, in my entry earlier today, I told the Truth about the deceitful Lizzie/Beth/Xeney (please, how many names does a person need?), but nary a word about Lucy, except to bitch about that really really ugly picture of me.

Lucy wrote to complain. Her note was so entirely "What am I, chopped liver?" that I thought that I had written it! But it made me wonder, why had I not said anything about Lucy?

I tried and tried to remember what she had been like, good or bad, and couldn't remember a thing. In fact, I couldn't actually remember ever speaking to Lucy, though I was pretty certain that I had.

I decided that deep therapy was needed, so I went to a psychiatrist and he hypnotized me and recovered the memories. It turned out that Miss Lucy Huntzinger was so awful that I had actually repressed the entire experience!

You know how I said in yesterday's entry that she was just so funny that she made me choke? I remembered that wrong! She was actually, maliciously, trying to kill me by telling funny stories! Just so that, I think, she can put some sort of quote on her front page "So funny, I died laughing!-The Mighty Kymm" in order to drive up her hit count and win CSOTD.

So basically, Lucy is a potential diarist serial killer! Flee! Flee for your lives!!!

Plus, she snores like a grampus.

Okay, besides that we had a really good time yesterday.

I got up at 8.45a, felt really virtuous, then wandered into the other room, where Beth and Lucy were already up and washed and dressed and probably had had several hours of either planning to murder me in my bed or not thinking about me at all (I'm not certain which is worse).

We all went out to breakfast, attempting The Fox and Goose, but since people were stacked like cords of wood waiting for a table, we wisely decided to go elsewhere. Of course, I don't remember the name of the Elsewhere. I can never remember street names and place names or things like that. I am a poor chronicler of detail, I am.

Anyway, whatever this Elsewhere was, it was really great. Beth was complaining (as she is wont to do) that every time she and Jeremy would go there, they would end up smelling like bacon for the rest of the day, so I knew that Elsewhere was the place for me.

As I ordered two hard boiled eggs and the waitress said "I don't know if we can do those. If we can't, what will you have?" and I explained that, were there to be no hard boiled eggs, I would have to order something entirely different, so as she was checking with the somewhat irritated-looking chef, everyone was able to continue the game of mocking me and my incredibly complicated and intricate eating habits.

Lucy said that she could imagine not feeling like eating something, but not not liking whole categories of food, or requiring specific preparation. It was like hearing someone suddenly start speaking gibberish. I had no idea what she could possibly be talking about.

Anyway, they were able to pull out a couple of old, cold, dusty hard boiled eggs that I fell on with glee and all was sunshine and roses again.

Then we went to a very evil-looking bookstore that was fortunately closed, so we went instead to Old Sacramento.

Old Sacramento is this hilarious, touristy place with cobbled streets and wooden sidewalks and signs in that font that you see on Wanted posters in the Old West where we went into many shops full of silly things and saw an Old West bank robbery that was either a recreation, or there's a mad band of robbers loose in Sacramento who dress in period costume and act like very bad actors.

I think it was probably a recreation. My favourite part of it was when almost everyone was dead, and the survivors started robbing the corpses. Very authentic.

Lucy got irritated with the shops before I did (but anyone would) so we went back to the house and she drove home. I hope the traffic was better than when we drove there in the first place!

Then, my company manners shattering from over-use, I sat down at the computer in order to upload some entries, and write one in the middle that I hadn't done yet, and check my e-mail and catch up on journal and basically turned into the World's Rudest Houseguest.

The funny part was when I was checking my e-mail, and it threatened me with 123 messages, but only downloaded one, then insisting that there were none to be found.

Beth finally figured out that Cynthia must have been downloading my e-mail in New Jersey at just that very moment.

Jeremy made a great spaghetti sauce, and we ate it along with some garlic bread with so much garlic on it that our breath peeled paint from the wall for the rest of the evening, then I dove back at the computer, and they watched TV.

At one point they called me in, and when I went into the TV room, they were saying on the news that the airports at San Jose and Oakland were closed due to fog, and people were being routed into Sacramento, so everything was hugely backed up.

So I got into San Jose just in time, the day before, but would I be able to get out of Sacramento the next day? Tune in tomorrow for the next exciting chapter!!

I finally dragged myself off to bed after catching up on as many journals as I could, and both Benny and Rudy were lying on my bed! Benny was at the foot and Rudy was on the pillows.

I thought, "Hooray! Kitties to sleep with!", climbed into bed, and they both took one horrified look at me "You're not our Mummy!" and fled into the night. Though I did wake up later to find Rudy back.

I miss sleeping with kitties!

So, you may have noticed that I have barely mentioned Jeremy.

Basically, this is not because I am respecting his privacy or anything (just ask Cynthia and Fran how big I am on that), it's because he barely got a word in edgeways the entire weekend, so I have almost nothing to say about him.

I don't think there have ever been three more garrulous people together in the history of the world. All three of us are more storytellers than conversationalists, so one would start a story, which would remind someone else of a story, which she would start telling, which would remind someone else of a story, which she would start telling, etc.etc.etc.

So no one ever finished a story, but somehow everything wove together and became a conversation. This did not leave much room for Jeremy to talk, though.

So I will say, regarding Jeremy, that he's a swell driver, an excellent cook, has dreadful posture, and has quite beautiful hair (he would wash it and wrap it in a towel, then tromp by all hunched over with this white towel draped down his back. I started calling him the Towel Troll.) but he doesn't read my journal, and thus is loathsome and hateful and completely deserves to have Beth tugging at his shirtsleeve for the rest of his life.

When is that memo going out that says everyone must love me best! Dammit!

Today's horoscope:
Finances improve. A project begins to pay off. You see the light at the end of the tunnel.

* Yesterday / Index / This Month / Tomorrow *

E-Mail

Cool wintery logo and graphics by:
Brittly!

This page was written by hand. My hand. Only pussies use HTML editors.
Last Updated Tues 29 December 17:57:09 1998