When they invent the transporter, I'll be first in line
New York tomorrow. Crap, I just looked at the weather report and it said thunderstorms. Every freaking time lately I travel past the Rockies, there's a damn thunderstorm, and that means insanely delayed/cancelled flights or flying into other cities and trying to find your way to the place you're supposed to be... blech. My anxiety is increasing by the minute and my stomach hurts. I just hate flying but the dumbass corporate travel guy made it worse by booking me into window seats when i'd asked for aisle, and I think the likelihood of having success at changing my seat is next to nil. I've never had any luck with that except with Alaska Airlines, and it's been decades since I've flown on Delta so I have no FF number or anything else to back me up on my request. I just know that the weather report means I'm going to be stuck at Sea-Tac or in the air for hours, increasing my anxiety even more. If it was just the flying, it would be endurable, but it's the being held prisoner at the airport, juggling heavy bags and trying to find places to sit when you're by yourself, being hungry because you can't afford the five dollar bagels and shit like that that make me hate it even more. The being herded like cattle into your slaughter pen, and wondering if you can get your carryon crammed in the overhead if they're all taken, and everything else.
If there was something good on the other end of the line, that would be one thing, but it's a social event tomorrow night that I'm supposed to be there for, and then an all day meeting on Friday, and a gruesome dinner that I'm seriously giving thought to blowing off because I found out the other day it's actually in Brooklyn, where I've never been, and I'd have to take the subway, which I don't like, and follow directions that don't give you a clear sense of where north and south are (really, how the hell am I supposed to know, in a strange environment, which is north or south? Why not say left or right?). If they're going to make it harder, I don't want to go -- and honestly, most of the people I don't like, so... the big problem is that all the NY peeps who've mentioned getting together, I'm not sure I can do it now. I wanted to but I can't get a clear sense of when I will be free (or even when I will be in town, now).
Since they didn't tell me where to go at the NY Public Library where this party is, I went to the NYPL site to look up the specific room and found that they had basically no info on the library building itself for someone who's an out of towner. It was very frustrating. I called the main number but no one answered. So, because I've learned no other lesson in my 25 years as an editor better than "how to look it up," I called the research librarian line. I said, "Well, I have a strange research question that involves you all" and at first she seemed annoyed by me, but then I explained to her that I had been all over the site, but could not find out information on where this room was located, and she gave me the info I needed -- about the sekrit entrance, and everything. I even found out that since i was coming in after hours, where to look for easier access, and that the reason I couldn't find the main branch listing for the hours was because "the one with the lions" is called the Research and Humanities branch or something like that. Suddenly it all made sense. I told her that I'd learned quite early that when in doubt, call a research librarian, and thanked her profusely for her time. She seemed quite happy by the time we finished; i think they don't get many questions about private parties at that job. I heart my research librarian friends, I tell you. I heart all research librarians.
It looks like a long walk from the hotel to the library, but seems like a good walk, down 5th Ave. Which could be worse. That is, assumng I get there in anything resembling time. I'm just filled with dread over having to take a cab to the hotel (especially after watching the Bone Collector) but I don't know if I'll have enough time to get a shuttle express-type thingie.
Emma's got pouty "mom's taking a trip" face on and is meowing balefully around the house. I took dad out for Father's day dinner last night, since I had to work Sunday night, and told him I still hadn't made a will out because I can't decide what to do with the really big things. I'd always expected to leave them to Sis_r. I said, if I die in a fiery plane crash, can you still get control of my estate? He said, You bet your ass I'm going to get control of it. He's still a funny guy.
But! Steve and Kayla saw each other today, even though he doesn't remember who he is. There is something to live for after all. (Though the woman with the old tapes never did get back to me, wah. I'm really sad because I was so, so excited at the prospect of seeing all those things again.)
If there was something good on the other end of the line, that would be one thing, but it's a social event tomorrow night that I'm supposed to be there for, and then an all day meeting on Friday, and a gruesome dinner that I'm seriously giving thought to blowing off because I found out the other day it's actually in Brooklyn, where I've never been, and I'd have to take the subway, which I don't like, and follow directions that don't give you a clear sense of where north and south are (really, how the hell am I supposed to know, in a strange environment, which is north or south? Why not say left or right?). If they're going to make it harder, I don't want to go -- and honestly, most of the people I don't like, so... the big problem is that all the NY peeps who've mentioned getting together, I'm not sure I can do it now. I wanted to but I can't get a clear sense of when I will be free (or even when I will be in town, now).
Since they didn't tell me where to go at the NY Public Library where this party is, I went to the NYPL site to look up the specific room and found that they had basically no info on the library building itself for someone who's an out of towner. It was very frustrating. I called the main number but no one answered. So, because I've learned no other lesson in my 25 years as an editor better than "how to look it up," I called the research librarian line. I said, "Well, I have a strange research question that involves you all" and at first she seemed annoyed by me, but then I explained to her that I had been all over the site, but could not find out information on where this room was located, and she gave me the info I needed -- about the sekrit entrance, and everything. I even found out that since i was coming in after hours, where to look for easier access, and that the reason I couldn't find the main branch listing for the hours was because "the one with the lions" is called the Research and Humanities branch or something like that. Suddenly it all made sense. I told her that I'd learned quite early that when in doubt, call a research librarian, and thanked her profusely for her time. She seemed quite happy by the time we finished; i think they don't get many questions about private parties at that job. I heart my research librarian friends, I tell you. I heart all research librarians.
It looks like a long walk from the hotel to the library, but seems like a good walk, down 5th Ave. Which could be worse. That is, assumng I get there in anything resembling time. I'm just filled with dread over having to take a cab to the hotel (especially after watching the Bone Collector) but I don't know if I'll have enough time to get a shuttle express-type thingie.
Emma's got pouty "mom's taking a trip" face on and is meowing balefully around the house. I took dad out for Father's day dinner last night, since I had to work Sunday night, and told him I still hadn't made a will out because I can't decide what to do with the really big things. I'd always expected to leave them to Sis_r. I said, if I die in a fiery plane crash, can you still get control of my estate? He said, You bet your ass I'm going to get control of it. He's still a funny guy.
But! Steve and Kayla saw each other today, even though he doesn't remember who he is. There is something to live for after all. (Though the woman with the old tapes never did get back to me, wah. I'm really sad because I was so, so excited at the prospect of seeing all those things again.)