September 5

All I can say about this site is that it's taken too *&^*^ long to finally get it online. I've been scribbling journal entries ever since I got a computer, and posting them online ever since I discovered Diaryland.

But learning Dreamweaver, finding money for software upgrades or computer classes (which I never did take), agonizing over whether my writing was best served by different projects, all got in the way.

I can't really tell you what made me decide to go ahead, confront my fear of Dreamweaver and finish it...it may honestly be that I was so happy with my fruity site theme that I said, aw, what the hell. Let's build this puppy.

So...here it is. Tell me how you like it or don't. For the love of God, let me know if any links are broken, or if I made any embarrassing spelling errors. I love those.

And while I'm at it, I should acknowledge everyone who got me to this point:

Christina, for giving me her old computer that, miraculously, was upgradeable and still works. It's the 1978 Chevy truck of computers--ugly as all get-out but reliable. It has a working 5.25" drive on it. I am the new retro, baby.

Gary, for all his patient assistance in introducing me to Dreamweaver and web protocols in general.

Matthew, whose persistent butt-kicking (of me) got me to finish this, finally.

All the online people I admire--They got there first. They made me jealous. They made me say, "Hey, dangit, I can do this."

And of course, you the readers. Flattering your audience is always a smart move, according to Andrew Carnegie's How to Win Friends and Influence People. So is being a ruthless robber baron who corners the domestic steel market. Quite a guy, that Andy.

September 7

Muchas gracias to Furious D and others who've complimented me on my site. If you came here via Matt's weekly newsletter, you've already read the following entry. Go read the Preserves or my newest book review instead.

As I was walking around Midtown a few days ago, it got very gray and misty and even almost chilly outside. I love this city! This is August? Right on! But as I walked, I realized that NY, like London, looks better in the rain and the cold. A little gray, but much more like itself, if that makes any sense.

It's partly the tourists that make it less pleasant in summer, of course, clogging up the sidewalks and asking me directions and all; but at the same time, when the thermometer gets above 60, the locals all seem to get a very South-Seas-Islander- "who needs clothes anyway?" attitude. I'm not kidding, I've never seen a less-clothed group of people than New Yorkers in June.

Tube tops? Sure! Flimsy flip-flops you should only wear to a swimming pool, but instead you're walking down Fifth Avenue? Dig it! Shorty-shorts? OK! Underwear? Th-thong, baby! (Preferably a bright-colored one under white pants). And so on.

But before you start thinking this is Peeping Tom heaven, be aware that most of the people dressed this way are not hot young love-toys, but sweaty, often hairy, often scary groups of people. You will see armpit hair. You will see belly-hair. You will see plumbers crack.So, be prepared. Try not to stare at the fat old hairy guy who inexplicably chose the "Ricky Martin"-style fishnet shirt as the cornerstone of his afternoon ensemble. Be subtle as you edge away from the threatening-to-spill-over-decolletage of the older lady who suddenly decided to take Britney as her fashion role-model. You don't want to be there when those things break loose. Trust me.

So anyway, hopefully I will soon be spared this spectacle of flesh when Winter sinks its claws into the city and everyone's decently covered up. I'm really looking forward to that. In winter, New Yorkers can be snazzy dressers--it's one of the few places you'll actually see men and women in 40's-style hats, and it works for them. Everyone seems to wear those looped-around-the-neck tasseled scarves over a dark coat, just like in all the movies about New York. It's cool.

Another cool thing (how's that for a segue) is my mom. Or rather, the way she puts me to shame when it comes to being bold. Here I was thinking moving to NY was all gutsy of me, ditching my Texas job and Texas life with no guarantees. But then my mom informs me this month that not only did she 1). Join an Internet dating service at the age of 61; 2). Start dating a guy she met there; but 3). she is getting married in November.

Wow. What do you say to that? Of course I was a little worried. I've seen those Lifetime movies where the lonely woman marries the perfect (seeming) man, who then turns out to be a psycho killer or to have 12 other families in different states.

But my mom's no Meredith Baxter Birney, and she's been on her own for ten years now, so she's hardly the type to make a bad choice. They met over the Internet, but he's local, and she knows people who know him. My siblings have mostly met him and like him.

And my mom is giggling like a teenager and really, really excited and happy. And I can't help being happy too.

My mom's a pretty tough lady, and I'm relying on that to keep her safe. She's come through a lot in her life, and has a no-nonsense, take-charge attitude that I've always admired.

I used to think I was nothing like her, because she was always more girly and social than me. But as I got older and understood the courage she's shown in her life, and the toughness and smarts and resilience, I realized I wanted to be like her, and that I could be, if I didn't give up on the things I wanted.

So Matt and I will go home Thanksgiving week and watch her take another courageous step, and keep our fingers crossed that it's a good one.

September 8

I can put this here now because it isn't my view from work anymore. The far left building is the Empire State, and I was on the 10th floor of the building across from it on 5th Avenue. Every day I got off at Herald Square station and walked around the block, dodging tourists and pamphlet-pushers to get to work.

My new job is further south in Midtown, and I realized today I hadn't said much about how I came to snag it, and what a gigantically wonderful thing that was.

Looking for a job is one of the more depressing tasks in life. No matter how qualified you are, at least in this economy, you're going to have to deal with a lot of rejection. My temp job that I secured back in March was coming to an end by September, and I had just about resigned myself to another round of temping, another few months of low pay and boring work.

(and let me say here: Monster.com and Hotjobs.com: sucked. Whole bunch of nothing from both. I've only ever gotten one job off of the Internet, and that was on the company's own web page.)

But I kept sending out resumes anyway, because that's what you do.Then at the end of July, I get a call from a blind ad (which the job books tell you never happens). They wanted an interview! They weren't scared by my salary needs! They were actual, honest-to-god (non-fiction) book publishers!

But I didn't get my hopes up. I didn't want to get too excited and then get rejected. So I was deliberately casual and relaxed at the interview, determined to act as though I had all the offers in the world and was just considering theirs critically...a total lie.

This interview had three things going for it from the get-go, however:

1. The interviewer was my potential boss, not an HR drone. Which meant she actually knew what she was looking for.
2. She interviewed me alone, without other applicants or interviewers. Group interviews are a red flag of time-wasting incompetence, in my experience.
3. I met my potential co-workers and got to talk shop and get a little insight into their personalities. Nice for me and them.

Things happened fast after that. She personally knew one of my references in Texas, for god's sake. I passed a Quark test with flying colors.

By the end of the week, I was their newest Production Editor. All the Quark-ing and Photoshopping in my past has come in very handy, and I translate between the graphics and editing folk and make sure everything goes to press on time. And I now know more about Special Forces, baseball, and secret agents (the three series I'm handling now) than I ever expected.

Even more fun, I've requested Epidemics, Medieval life, and 19th-century History titles to manage next season, which I'm going to thoroughly enjoy if I get them. I am digging this job more than anything I've had since Borders. I'm just never happy unless I'm involved with books and book people.

The only downer right now is that my cubicle looks so barren next to everyone else's; they've all decorated theirs up nicely. I need more stuff, which is why I eagerly await my Archie McPhee catalog.

Nothing like a hula girl to complete your cube decor.