Monday, July 10, 2000

1:44 a.m. Not the best photo in the world -- but then, it's not been the best day I've ever had, either. I wonder how much that doggie in the window has seen? I wonder how much he has absorbed and remembered? I apologize for the lack of detail around the doggie's face -- his was a very very black face, and there was no way I could throw enough light on him to make him look good.

Plus, he was looking out on a most bleak back alley, and I was the only person as far as my eye could see. I was taking a shortcut and he watched me coming and passing and going. I turned around and went back and forth a few times, just to watch him watch. And then I took a few photos, never imagining for a second that his face was going to turn into a black blob and his bright shiny eyes would disappear.

Yet, it feels like the best photo to post for today. The forlornness of the one lone creature waiting and watching. A feeling I have. Yesterday, I felt as if I were racing for a big shiny bus that may or may not stop ... and today ... the parade has passed me by. I sigh.

All the bustle and all the expense and all the lost sleep have been for naught. The demo wasn't needed, my help wasn't needed, and I have had to swallow my pride and put away my Golive textbooks, because I'm not going to be working on any major websites, either. Back in my little cage I go. Hope my water bottle's full. I sigh again.

At least I can describe my ironing techniques without any fear of rejection. Ironing was my mother's backdoor emergency plan -- the phrase was: "I can always take in ironing" and it meant that no matter how bad things got, she could make a few dollars with her ironing wizardry. And she is a really, really good ironer, make no mistake about it.

My own safety backdoor emergency job was typesetting. I thought I was pretty darn clever, learning a skill that paid, at the minimum, $12 an hour, guaranteed. There was a union. I was highly skilled. Who would ever have imagined that typesetting would become obsolete? Or that there would be such a thing as "drip-dry"?

It can be a cold, cruel world when your backdoor plan comes loose at the hinges. My mother learned other skills and she joined another union. I climbed on the Pagemaker bandwagon and rode in that parade. Time marches on.

Here's another one of those secrets for a good life: get yourself a spray bottle, put a few drops of cologne into it and fill it up with water. Maybe more than a few drops. Enough to make a difference. Put the bottle on your ironing board and turn on your iron. Now, as you place the wrinkled thing on the board, just spray it with the scented water and start ironing.

Heaven! Warm, fragrant clouds of lavender, lilac, honeysuckle, or patchouli will rise up and envelope your senses. Spray, iron, sniff, spray, iron, sniff. If you had musty clothing, this technique will banish the bad smell forever. I know. I've had musty clothing. And your closet and your drawers will smell wonderful, too. And you will be happy.

A small competency can make a person really happy.

A huge opportunity missed because nobody notices the glory that is me? The extreme unfairness that is this world and its busy, fussy, shortsighted people? Money that I'll never see because I'm not aggressive enough?

Spray, iron, sniff.

Watch the world go by.

How much I envy that doggie in the window.