I've justed returned from a indescribably strange dinner party in Oakland, which was [I suppose] a fitting end to an incredibly long day. The in-laws stopped by to retrieve a dead aunt's break-front. Then, I interviewed a realtor. After that, I submitted to several hours of futon frame shopping, punctuated by buying a $6 bottle of Chardonnay at Cost Plus. [Don't worry. I'm fine, thanks. I don't know what came over me, but I swear it won't happen again.] Next up came wrestling with Tech CU ATMs as the weird futon-frame-shop-in-a-garage place didn't take credit cards. I then discovered that a queen size futon frame will actually fit in the Passat without a lot of cajoling, much to my amazement. It was kind of like some of those guy's ===== you see in those ===== in ========, but I digress. Dropped it off at Brian's house, then rushed home, looking forward to relaxing - instead, I found myself attacking the lawn in the front of a house with everything save for manicure scissors. It's all nicely edged now, but I'm still peeved that the new improved lawn tends to become completely unmanageable with the tiniest bit of moisture. It rained yesterday, so the mow job is only about 70% doof. The rest of it is wack. Incidentally, I did manage to bisect something on the order of 50+ earthworms with the edger - a new record for me, hands down. Totally unintentional. I kept wondering why it was I was seeing so many living things in the lawn today, but I suppose the rain's what brought 'em out. Cleaned everything up, checked my E-mail, and boom, realized I was running late. Dan's brother Tom was having dinner for friends. I brought a case of wine [yay for me, now the basement has less to move] as well as Max Tundra and a cool van Gogh museum catalog that Dan bought years ago but had forgotten to give to Tom. The crowd was way weird, including [for example] a mass-quantities-of-drugs-ingesting wild-eyed Israeli hax0r d00d who had apparently made the mad cash by selling something useless to C|NET back in the day, and who now works on OS X turntable software for DJs. Talk about disappearing up your own ass. He kept going on about the different types of acid he'd only recently run out of. Not only that, he actually mentioned Burning Man in a dead serious fashion, utterly devoid of irony. And of course when I somewhat dishonestly suggested that I worked for Apple, he launched into a wild discourse about I was SO FUCKING COOL because I was really STICKING IT TO THE MAN by working on THE BEST OS OF ALL TIMES, and how OS X WAS REALLY SHOWING US JUST WHAT HUMANS ARE CAPABLE OF. However, his girlfriend did butt in shortly after that to ask me about the bad energy that must still be in my garage because there might have been a meth lab there in the 90s. [Don't ask.] Anyhow, the food was served about four hours behind schedule, partly because the sink broke and the vegan present required everything to be cooked twice, once without cheese or whatever the fuck those people don't eat. [I was sorely tempted to point out that the wine he was swilling down had certainly been fined with egg whites, if not perhaps even sturgeon bladder.] But the food was good, really good, and I'm glad I went. A party with strangers is vaguely like an interview; on some level, it was a trial run.
OK, waaaay too late at this point. Must sleep.