DLand - Just When Things Look Darkest

Everybody seems to be having a crappy day lately. My husband didn't get the job he was hoping to get (for very unknown reasons - even his current boss was stunned he didn't get it). My boss said that on a scale of 1 to 100 today was about a 10 for him in the history of working for our company. My mom is still mostly bed-ridden with her pinched nerve. Kim's having relationship troubles. Hmm. And all I had was one stinky hour or so with the most insane librarian in New England. Overall, my trip to CrazyLand was pretty good. I ate fried plantains last night. They were just as Cheri described them - like bananas, but not. We ate at a Cuban seafood restaurant. Bossman had a good point that the Cuban seafood he had in Miami was probably a little better that what Massachusetts has to offer, but overall, it was very tasty.

And now, I'm on a plane in first class with my apple juice and Cape Cod potato chips, heading home. Not quite sipping Foster's in the shade, but I'm doing pretty well for myself.

I read earlier today that the Chinese government is trying to say they will choose who the Dalai Lama's successor will be. I'm not really sure how they can realistically make a statement like that. Chinese government and spirituality don't seem to be two fortunes in the same cookie. The article explained how all sorts of things his Holiness said have been refuted or undermined. Apparently, there was a successor named for another Tibetan holy man years ago, but China decided to pick some other random child. The one that his Holiness chose was never heard from again. It's got to be incredibly frustrating to be that man. But when you ask him if he's happy, he says yes without the slightest hesitation. His country was occupied, he lives in exile, and his people are imprisoned and tortured for even having a picture of him. Yet he somehow still finds happiness in the world. That's got to count for something. I would like to meet him one day.

(Charlie Brown's teacher seems to be moonlighting as a pilot for US Airways, because I didn't understand a single thing he just said.)

Life is funny sometimes when you think that everything is just gonna be horrible and then you gain a little perspective. I was all cranky about my car and then I realized that it's pretty keen compared to some other cars that I could be driving. I just spent three fascinating days in a Dodge Neon and have no desire to ever go near one again. Makes my little midget-mobile seem pretty state of the art and hip. I resigned myself to owning it for a bit longer and have even started putting bumper stickers on it. That's the first stage of car commitment.

And Dan told me a funny story yesterday. Russ, my co-worker, went to buy a new Sprint phone from the Sprint store. It's the latest model that's very expensive and the only other one the store had sold was to the store owner/manager guy. So the salesboy starts showing Russ how to program the phone but doesn't really know what he's doing. Owner/Manager Guy takes Russ to the back room to show him how to download stuff for the phone and program it all. The phone has photo caller-id, meaning that when someone calls, you can have it display a picture of them as well. Owner/Manager Guy had a very un-flattering photo of a monkey for when silly salesboy calls. It was kinda funny. Guess you had to be there.

(I just found a four leaf clover. Ok, so it was on an interstate south of Hartford but, it was there all the same.)

I finished a very fine traveling music mix earlier this week. I think I will only change one or two songs before calling it perfect. Now just have to find a good cover for it. There is a fine art to making music mixes. I have been making them for eons, and would record strange things off of the radio just to find good snippets to insert into mixes (there were some doosies from the Gore/Perot debates I found on NPR years ago). And now it just all seems too easy. The actual science of building the mix (on a cd even) is child's play. No worrying about how to fit the songs on each side of the tape. No graphics you rob from magazines are large enough to make good jacket covers in the jewel cases. It seems to be a lost art form. I only have the juxtaposition of artists and genres to amuse me. Enh, perhaps I put more effort into them than is worth it. But it sure does make me happy.

Maybe that's his Holiness' secret too.