June 28-july 2, 2001 — Let's talk about someone else

The last few days have had their hearts set on pointing out the fragility of the people around me. But those details aren't mine to share with an audience (of sorts). Instead, I've allergies and visitors and deaths in comic books trying at my patience or coaxing me out of the house or making the day I gained from the long weekend seem a bit darker than should have, and each giving me something to talk about. Less melodramatic like this, anyway.

Checking my trusty Windows98 calendar, I've found that the twenty-eighth of June was a Thursday. But nothing interesting happened on Thursday. Or Friday, for that matter. So we'll skip them. (Actually, I received a very interesting package Friday evening, but its contents would do a better job of exciting the visitors at a different Web site of mine, and I don't want to give anything away yet.)

And actually, Jeff and Amy arrived Friday evening, too. So we'll start there.

Amy looked mostly as she did the last time I saw her; Jeff looked like a farmer. Johnston gave them a bit of a tour of Manotick, and gave me a bit of a tour in the process -- I've seen very little of the town without a 1989 Honda Accord in between Manotick and me.

We ended up back at Johnston's house. Amy went swimming. A boy told me that Macintosh computers "suck," but he made some other comments that damaged his credibility in the matter. Jeff and Johnston played that skateboarding game that they make for that entertainment system of Sony's. All in all, it was just like university. We were even fortunate enough to hear that song of Shaggy's that members of our residence building were so keen on singing. Over and over again, until the end of time. All that was missing was the Burwashian Sea Hag, a peanut butter sandwich, and a bed stacked on top of a desk. The best months of my life, those...

(Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I'm getting a headache as I realize that I haven't had anything to eat since lunch and that I might be a touch short on sugar in my bloodstream at the moment.)

Saturday brought, along with heat and dry winds and dust, the worst case of allergies that I've had in a long time. I scanned some artwork for the Cuff The Duke CD packaging, briefly visited Johnston's, and went to sleep at 8:00 pm. I sneezed and coughed through most of this.

And on Canada Day, I stayed home, mostly. I worked on R-Kade's site, and I emailed a few more winners of the Bran Van 3000 CD giveaway thingy. I considered going downtown to see Jean Leloup on Parliament Hill. I ended up at Johnston's house, watching "16 Candles" for the first time. (And falling in love with Anthony Michael Hall all over again.)

Back at home later that night, I watched a tape of Jean Leloup's performance at Parliament Hill. I was quietly relieved that there wasn't a surprise appearance by anyone related to Bran Van 3000, and I went to sleep.

Today, I read -- I've almost finished all of the collections of The Sandman comic books, and I don't want it to end -- and I wrote this. It was not a productive day. Not such a horrible holiday, though.

Tomorrow, my father's asking that I stay home from work so that I can drive my sister to the airport. (She's going to British Columbia (I think) for a week or two (I think). Some sort of school trip.) I'm going to try to finish the journal-posting program that I've been working on, and I'm going to look for the "New Waterford Girl" DVD. If I'm feeling truly industrious, I might even get my hair cut.

I want to say that I'll write a journal tomorrow and have it be the truth. But it probably wouldn't be the truth. So I won't say anything.