Journal of a Sabbatical

August 5, 2000

typos, messages, weather, and doubt

Today's Reading: Wanderlust by Rebecca Solnit

Today's Starting Pitcher: Rolando Arrojo

nitch

notch, snitch, itch, ditch, Fitch, hitch, pitch, witch
The author intended niche. The spellchecker never even suggested that.

sendentary

sedentary
The spellchecker got this one right.

Why am I collecting typos in Wanderlust? Nitch is funny. Sendentary sounds like tendentious. The book is very academic and packed with footnotes, so it amuses me that it's so poorly edited.

Pajama Woman is having company for dinner tonight. How does this affect me? It's a cookout. Her patio table is directly under my kitchen window. Her guests will be standing around with their burgers and beers looking directly into my unit - either the kitchen or the bathroom. So I've drawn the shades lest they see anything untoward. BusyBody pointed out to me that I'm delusional if I think I have any privacy here anyway. Somehow, The Beans of Egypt Maine, although they intruded on my space with the smoke of their endless cigarettes and burnt pot roasts, never partied in front of my kitchen window.

I have a bunch of phone messages, which makes me feel both connected and alienated at the same time. Ever since I read One's Company by Barbara Holland years ago (1992), I've had this horror of coming home to the unblinking light on the answering machine, as if it proved beyond a reasonable doubt that I have no life.

They buy a half-loaf of bread and a can of tuna and let themselves into their apartments at the end of the day calling wistfully for the cat, check the unblinking light on the answering machine and sit down to read through the junk mail, absorbing messages about carpet sales and grocery coupons sent in from the great busy world. -- One's Company by Barbara Holland

No matter than I have voice mail and not an answering machine, and lack of stutter tone can't accuse me of having no life until I pick up the handset and listen. The mere idea accuses me. And the junk mail is all from Media One encouraging me to sign up for Roadrunner service. I could use that I suppose. A cable modem would certainly speed things up. Anyway, must deal with the messages.

Most don't require a call back. They're either requesting me to pick something up or drop something off or notifying me of something or other. One demands that I call back right now. M______ of B______ called to reschedule my Antarctica talk (titled Penguins and Ice). She really wanted to talk about the Buddy fiasco. She brought it up. I didn't. I was all set to be curt, crisp, focused on rescheduling the talk because I'd already committed to give it and didn't want to disappoint the residents despite my lingering anger regarding Buddy. I at least feel like we've processed it now. And she gave me some more insight into the behavior of the fake niece - who is now claiming to be a cousin rather than a niece but continues to be unrelated to Mrs. L. Turns out M______ had weird interactions with the fake niece too. It wasn't just me.

This is the nicest day we've had in weeks and I missed walking with the walking buddies because I was on the phone with M_____ of B_____. Hmm, I'm missing having a life because I'm returning phone calls. Darn. So while I'm at it, I call Martha and leave a rambling message on her answering machine about how we can start up the cat visits at B______ again because the people with cat allergies have moved out to assisted living and I've made peace with M_____ and the fake niece has adopted Buddy and all is sort of right with the wildly skewed world.

Then it's down to Providence to take Nancy out to dinner at Asian Paradise. I'm dreaming of wide rice noodles in the car. Nancy has the beeper this weekend. Geez, didn't she just have it? Maybe the unwell will not need services this weekend. After all, everybody, even the unwell, feels better when the sun is out and the humidity is down.

We got seated, looked at the menu, and the beeper went off. Grrr. I drove Nancy home then went out again to get takeout from Gourmet House as I was starving. Nancy was still on the phone with the unwell when I brought it back. The beeper left us alone for the remainder of the evening but we didn't even consider going out again.