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Laureen of the Deep is startled.
July 10th, 1999

Still Underwater
Another Saturday at the computer. Didn't bother to go out for breakfast, but fixed a sandwich and drank a Coke. Plenty of vitamins and minerals and cholesterol to bang away at a journal entry and stay out of the nasty sunlight while my landlord (until the 15th of next month) digs post holes three or four feet outside my front door into which he will place supports for a visual barrier to fence out our small courtyard. I am moving, psychological damage be damned, but my friends upstairs have decided to stay for reasons of money and a dearth of landlords who will rent to four tenants.

Rockridge, even "lower" Rockridge where I reside (wrinkle your nose here if you're the least bit snobbish) is considered a desirable place to live and the rents are quite high. Even this hole in the wall no windows too much noise coming through the ceiling no water pressure can't take a shower not enough hot water apartment with a decent sized kitchen goes for a lot of money. If I am going to pay a lot of money, I am going to live in better surroundings. Like my new place. Which, come to think of it, I have not checked out for sound proofing and troublesome neighbors like me who have old but very large stereos.

My cat is in a feisty mood, hanging onto my left forearm trying to twist it off with nothing more than small dagger like claws and pointed but not brushed very often teeth to get the necessary grip. This has reminded Turtle swimming, Grand Cayman Islands. me of the fresh catnip sitting in the plastic bag on top of the bookshelves behind me that MSW left on my desk yesterday for Mr. Wuss. This would be a good place to insert a photograph of MSW, but she has strictly forbidden it and I, for reasons too many and commonplace, must comply. Still, my sitting here typing instead of outside shooting photographs for next week's journal makes stoned cat pictures a possible and maybe necessary out, since I can do them indoors with strobe lights. It will also allow me to practice using the infrared triggers. I have not yet figured out how to shoot a decent photograph with the clever infrared triggers and, if I were someone reading this right now who even dimly understood how many complicated camera gadgets I possess, including these same infrared triggers, who even dimly perceived how little I know how to use them, would snigger. Don't snigger. I will use organic cat drugs (garden grown, no pesticides) as a low excuse to learn. Later.

By Monday I must pack boxes, the model railroad assemblage of books, magazines, model kits and tools, pieces of benchwork and photographs being the first target. Let's just say I have a lot of model railroad stuff and I am going to order the storage cube delivered for the weekend of the 24th after I return from Seattle and I must get this crap (rare and valuable personal model railroad possessions) ready. Sitting here at the computer is a way to avoid this, I know, but I do have an entry to write so I'll say OK, that's true, I'm procrastinating and then I'll pack the boxes by Monday morning. Some things just have to be messy and moving is one of them.

Another photograph of the four provided by Sam and Laureen was used for the banner, the turtle head photo is a section of a larger photo that was run yesterday. Again, the photographs were taken by a dive shop instructor last week in the Grand Cayman Islands.