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Saturday, Feb. 15, 2003 / 4:19 p.m. ~It's "Noam", Man!~ Oh, man, I swear I didn't want to push my Valentine's Day entry back, but I've got to write that someone just clicked on my diary after searching on MSN for "Norm Chomsky"!!!!!!! That is so fucking funny!!!! I think I wrote in here that I have nicknames for my cats, that Norma is often called Norman, Norm, Norm Chomsky, Norm Crosby, Normie, Norman Schwartzkopf, Norman Lou, Lulubelle, Norma Linda (after the California town of Yorba Linda) and sometimes Norba Linda. (we're not even mentioning that Gladys can be known as Gladicus Andronicus and Gladiolicus) You see, for those who may not know, the essayist, political person, etc., is named "Noam" Chomsky, not "Norm". That's why it's funny when I play with Norm's name, you see? I'm playing. But someone online didn't know. Is this losing in the translation? Hey, it's better than the search someone did for pig fisting. Right? And what's really sad is that these people do these searches, yes, that alone is sad, but then they click on my diary, which is so obviously truly unrelated to their actual goal. Yikes, imagine your goal being to find links related to pig fisting! Or "Norm Chomsky". Tee hee fucking heeeeeeeee. You may not see the humor, but I thought it was terribly funny. Okay, the Worldwide Day of Protest is a big hit! And I'm so happy. I have CNN on permanently, or so it seems, just to make sure they keep showing it, to make sure it's still their top story, and because I like the background noise. Clearly I'm not joining in. I could be, but I'm selfish when it comes to my free time. Besides, I've done my share of protesting, let someone else take over for a change, you know? I want to stay here and catch it on the local news at 6:00. Maybe I'll tape it, maybe I'll show it to those who involved themselves. We shall see. My bedroom TV has started making this horrible high pitch sound. Last night I even tried thwacking it to see if that might make it stop. But no. Luckily I had a backup TV, the little MGA that was my grandmother's in the '70s, and later my only TV when I went off on my own. It's so small, but the color is good, it works fine, even after all these years (knock some wood...). I remember watching all kinds of shows on it when I had my first apartment, from a chair only inches away. To watch it from bed is a real challenge, and I miss the other TV already, even though it has the issue of turning green and staying that way, the picture, that is. I have it on the floor now, and Gladys has been 'marking' it with her facial scent all day. I'm thinking I'll take the back off and look around, but what do I know about TV repair? If I can't fix my computer, what makes me think I can fix my TV? Then I think, well, I have some money, I could go to Sam's Club and buy another big TV, I could. But then I think, why? I have the little one. But then I think, yeah, sure, I have three TVs, but they are all circa 1977, well, the one that turns green that now emits a high pitch squeal is newer than that, an RCA, and apparently they don't last as long as the Japanese TVs. Those Japanese, they know their electronics (she said, sounding sort of racist, but really not at all, so stop being so fucking politically correct, asshole!). Someone just added me to his ICQ list. So what, this version of ICQ is so old the only thing it's good for is email notification. Every time I send a message it's lost in the ether. I was chatting with Nelson the other night, but not really at all. I think he got the first message, then every other one he sent said, "Yo! Are you there????". Then he called. But my phone's ringer is always off, and I didn't hear him as he left me his message saying my name all Spanish-y and everything, and telling me he still has my number, believe it or not, I'm thinking because I was brushing my teeth or something in the bathroom. Man, it's a day, I should get out, I have things to do, there are protests I could join, there are bookstores I could browse to find a book to help my fix my computer, and movies I'd like to go see. What's my dealio? It's Saturday. MY day. My day to sit here and type for hours online, to read and write email, to read diaries and journals, and write in both, if I so choose. My roses are atop the washing machine, behind a closed door, but it's too warm in there, I know. They're awful beautiful, but they're not so perky due to the warmth. It's 60something outside, and I just read a local journal writer say it's 76 in the shade and everyone is wearing shorts and bikini thongs. I think he's exaggerating??? That TV is so small. You should see. I'll need binoculars to see it from bed. Norm Chomsky! That's too funny!!! Teeeeee heeeeeee..... Cost of the War in Iraq
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