Well, yesterday may not've been my all time worst birthday, but believe me, it was not far from it. I get up, make coffee, pick up a hand of bananas that Tiff brought over and a large black spider falls out. It's a kind I've never seen before, inky black, about the size of a quarter. I gape at it for a minute then try to kill it. It leaps adroitly aside and runs off, then runs back to the bananas ("home" apparently). I decide I need to hoover it up and go to fetch teh ebil nozzle, resulting in A. coffee knocked over and everywhere in a pool on the floor, and B. no change in the spider situation as I didn't see it. My older sister rings me and informs me that I'd've been better off leaving the spider alone and that she ignores the ones around her. I said it was an unknown kind. Gleefully she says, "It's still there." OK.
Then I washed the kitchen floor, and started sorting through the pile of crapola immensely important and valuable uh... things I keep close to hand on the counter, which includes Mummy Barbara's watch given to her ca 1932 on her birthday by a husband, my passport, 8 billion New Yorkers, a lead set of foxhunting figures, a very old French fry that looks like a leg especially after I stuck it in a Barbie high heel, my meat watch (AKA comics watch I bought at a Capitol Theatre fundraising auction which features a steak that goes around and around), loads of books including "Laggard" and Lucia's last book, a little souvenir pin I bought in a Melbourne thrift shop that originally came from "The Big Lobster" in Kingston, S.A. (roadside attraction). And so on. And so forth. Ad nauseum. Ad infinitum, apparently. An embroidered hotdog ready to be sewn on... uh... whatever one would sew it onto if one were not simply interested in it as a cultural icon. I actually threw some things away (killed me, too). Like a sock hanger that looked exactly like a stylised greyhound. And another old French fry leg. Maybe that's all I've thrown away (phew).
Tongues were the day's theme, I would guess, since I received in the mail A. a card of a heifer licking a laptop from Tiff, and B. an old photo of me at Bumbershoot licking a piece of artwork by mah pal KGF who had sent me the pic.
And the day progressed from there, my old computer acting up, etc., relentlessly onward to a low point where I was automatically billed for a host package I was leaving.

On the good side of things Enjah sent me a fabola gift certificate for a local Thai restaurant and a lovely e-card. Clio sent me birthday greetings. Sala gave me a nice hug.

However, today Frank was finally back. I went to jin shin - up at 6 ==:O. Marty responded and closed my account and refunded the money automatically deducted from my card. Vint's efforts on my behalf paid off as I was sent an invitation to the Liverpool Philharmonic group. So far so good with this computer.

Labels: Order of the Crossed Fingers