I'm hiding upstairs in the loft. Actually, I'm hiding a little prematurely: the reason to hide doesn't start until later.
Last night we had the same group of people over that we had Thursday night, this time to watch Alphaville. Rob and Laura said they had had it with moving and wanted to relax; CJ and Lance came over too. Darin and CJ picked up some pizzas, Rob and Laura picked up two 6-packs of beer, Lance picked up dark chocolate twigs, I allowed everyone into the house: we worked as a team.
We watched the first half of Alphaville before deciding the MST3K aspects of it were not worth flipping over the laser disc and watching the other half. CJ said she had seen the movie before and gave away what she remembered as the ending: the main character finds the computer and "kirks" it. Oy. I had already gotten what I needed to from the movie: how to set up a futuristic-seeming society without elaborate sets, costumes, or special effects. The movie would have been a lot more powerful if we as a society were still cowed and fascinated by Soviet-style propaganda, but as you know, been there, done that.
We ended up watching our laser discs of Star Wars and The Empire Strikes Back. Boy, was Harrison Ford cute back then. He's still cute, but he's in his 50s. When he was in his 30s he was really tasty.
Today we -- Darin and I, not Harrison and I -- got up and had a million errands to run before going to the Giants game to meet my dad, my sister, and my sister's boyfriend. Darin got his hair cut and I had to take my PowerBook by Computerware because the screen had appeared to give out for one last time. I've had a continuing problem with the screen freezing up and whiting over -- the high tech solution to this problem that I've employed very successfully is to hit the screen on the side, preferably getting a good *thwack* from my wedding ring on it. This morning the screen froze up and no amount of whacking, closing, or restarting got me the picture back, so we took it to Computerware.
I opened the PowerBook, and voila! There was the desktop. I have never been able to duplicate this problem for a computer technician, which is why I've never gotten the problem fixed -- they're not convinced there is a problem.
Grrrrr.
But at least I could use it until such time as I get this damn screen problem fixed.
We drove up to Candlestick-cum-3Com Park to watch the Giants play the Braves. It was fun going out as a big group; I haven't seen Deirdre (my sister) or GregA. (her boyfriend, not the same Greg who's been mentioned in here before) for a while. Or my father, either, for that matter. It was a good game; the Giants won 7 - 5, a squeaker they led at one point 7 - 0. We sat on the third base side, which gave me a weird perspective on the game, because traditionally we sit on the first base side. I didn't know where to look. I kept looking at second base expecting to see the batter. I couldn't judge the trajectories of the hits or whether a pitch was a ball or a strike at all, the way I could from the familiarity of my seat on the first base side.
Nevertheless, we all had a good time. It was overcast but warm out there. Now it's overcast and muggy. And the loft's the hottest part of the house.
Oh, that's right, why I'm hiding in the loft. Usually after going to a ball game Darin and I would stop by my parents' house in the City and say hi to my folks, if not stay for dinner. Not today. No, today we had to come back and shop and clean and otherwise prepare for tonight's Babylon 5 marathon.
Five hours of Babylon 5.
With a house full of Babylon 5 fanatics, most of whom I don't know.
I guess I'm just an anti-social person at heart. A kinder person might say introverted, but I think that's not strong enough. I enjoy spending time with my friends, but after two nights running of get-togethers enough's enough already. And this is the biggest get-together of them all, this time with people I don't know and probably won't like. I don't want these people -- Babylon 5 fans from a mailing list Darin belongs to -- in my house, I don't want them using my bathrooms, I don't want to speak them, I don't want to see their fingerprints on my towels.
I'm not going to make it on the party circuit in Hollywood. This is not news to me.
Rather than strain to be polite when I am just not in the mood, I hide. "Hello, hello, don't mind me don't look at me don't talk to me get out of my house just passing through..." I would hide in our bedroom except the high-speed Internet connections are located here, in the loft, and we don't have long enough cords to reach the bedroom.
Bad planning on my part: make a note to buy longer cords.