Yes, I've been a busy typist today. Talk about hypergraphia!

I've gotten a couple of e-mails (already) about my previous entries that I worked on today. One person commented that my link to a Beatles song "Tomorrow Never Knows" is actually a song from the Tibetan Book of the Dead.

Wow, bloggers, thank you for the concern, but that doesn't mean anything. To me, it symbolizes Letting Go and Living In The Now. It IS one of my favorite Beatles songs. And not that washed-up Phil Collins remake, either -- although that is the version I first heard when his overplayed album came out in 1981.

I should close a few other loose ends, too. Last week was unpleasant at work, but not in the "I'm about to lose my job" way. After being encouraged by my boss to apply for a job (one where I was already ambivalent), I placed some phone calls to "get the lay of the land." If the response was enthusiastic, I decided, then I would go for it.

Well, far from enthusiastic, I felt humiliated. The response was more along the lines of Moving back is a big decision; don't you like living in Ohio?

(beat)

In my obsessive compulsive manner, I decided that this response must mean my career is over. I had this idea I would find another local job to tie me over until the duplex was finished; then move one more time, a final time.

But tonight at least, I'm a bit more calm.

Then there was my date. I did call Jumpseat yesterday, planning on "Let's Be Friends". Well, uhm, I didn't accomplish that...

"Oh, hey, how are you," he began when he answered, and then we were off to the races: "I was wondering what you were doing and I've called you a couple of times; I'm getting ready to leave tomorrow and..."

And... I didn't get a word in edge-wise. After his next flight duty, he's leaving for additional training with his part-time military reserves gig in Texas, something having to do with handling EMT equipment on military flights: "...and the equipment, like on the C11 bombers are completely different than those on the ground..." oh yes? how interesting, "...and I'll get to see my sister, the one I told you about, the one who lives in Missouri, who used to live in the Panhandle..." oh yes? how nice, " ... I thought you were M.I.A., because I really thought we clicked the other night," ...and that would have been the time to break in -- but I didn't. "... so I better let you go and I'll call during the week."

I didn't say anything. So I guess that's still a loose end and I could be an even bigger jerk now.

One other loose end.
Rigoletto was enjoyable and light, even though plenty of people die, and it seemed like the most uncaring went unpunished. I like Verdi the best so far. The woman singing the lead, Gilda, was very good.

Because of the week, I was sort of in my own little world, which was just as well. The corks were flying at the gathering before and after. I met a couple of people who used to be high up at BIPC, were laid off and are now 'consultants'. One tried to buy me a drink at the opera, but after at least 3 glasses of wine, I refused, and she got defensive: "I mean I was going to pay and everything." She was also defensive when the talk turned to The Passion of Christ -- "it's about The Passion, you know?"

I left before one o'clock -- early -- feeling like a sack of flour. "Oooh, stay, pleeeeeze," said the hostess, clutching at my shirt.

Last time I was at one of these soirees, I had a little wake up call: On my drive home -- through a downtown neighborhood packed at 4 a.m. with silently grinning cop cars -- I realized that I was seeing double and, at that moment, I bumped over a curb. Adrenaline immediately began pumping into my system. I carefully sidled the corner onto the next side street, cut the lights and the engine, and stared into the mirrors for any signs of flashing red or white; or worse, vehicles leering in for the kill. I never got so sober so fast. And yup, I was lucky.

So... what's your favorite Beatles song?