{Bumbling Around}


Soundtrack -- Excerpt from the Fifth Element, by Eric Serra

I was a very very silly girl last night.

Over the past week and a half or so, I had a huge number of submissions come in for the fan fic site that I run. I was desperate I tell you, desperate to get all that text processed formatted and properly posted. Of course, we're talking about 30-50 pages of HTML code here, so it was going to take a good long while, even with trusty HomeSite at my side and lots and lots of pre-made templates.

We went out for dinner around 7pm and had a truly excellent meal at King Street Blues. I'd been leery about trying to find something for me to eat at "The Best Little Roadhouse in Virginia," but was pleasantly surprised to find more variety than I had expected on the menu, and increased tolerance in my palate for Southern cooking.

That there link up there actually points to the original restaurant in Old Town Alexandria -- we went to their spin-off branch in Kingstowne which is in the Springfield, VA area, about 8 miles south and 5 miles west of Old Town. We live above Springfield and West of Old Town and while we do love to go into Old Town, the parking situation is so much better in Springfield.

At any rate, I fell completely off of the wannabe-vegetarian bandwagon and had an extremely yummy burger, home-baked potato chips, an onion tangle and split an absolutely divine Apple Brown Betty with Sabs for dessert.

I also sampled some of Sabs' chili and cornbread and had a bite of his spare-ribs, which I usually don't like. I'm NOT a big barbeque sauce fan -- mostly because it's often too sweet and people glop too much of it on their food, turning whatever they've cooked into a sickly-sweet gloopy mess that makes me want to gag.

But these ... these were just right. Just enough smoky sauce flavor with a light tangy sweetness that didn't stick to the last of my throat and lots of meat too -- not layers of fat that you have to pick around to find the meat.

We left, pleasantly full and headed home, talking quietly through the 3 mile drive. The weather has cooled off a bit, so even though it's still humid, there's a slight breeze that makes the evenings very pleasant indeed.

So we got home around 8:30pm -- an amazing record for us. Generally I've been leaving work between 8 and 9pm on a regular basis since I started working here. I set to on the files almost immediately. By midnight I was only halfway through but I soldiered on, bound and determined to sift through the mound of stuff and post a huge update on the site.

Some of the submissions were new stories and I decided that it was high time to start applying the HTML 4.0 standard to the site, so I knocked together a quick style sheet and applied it to the new tales.

Of course this means that I'm going to have to go back through all of the old files and add <P></P> tags in strategic locations, but that's okay, the site needs some cleaning up anyway.

At one-thirty, Sabs came out of the bedroom, looking wide-awake and brightly declared, "I can't sleep. You look sleepy-tired. Maybe you should take a break?"

So I did and we stood around in the kitchen sipping Perrier(him) and chocolate milk(me) for a half hour at which point I set back to the task at hand and Sabs wandered off presumably in search of sleep.

I could still hear the television going in the bedroom though, so I assumed he was awake and in a full bout of extremely rare (for him) insomnia. At 4am I finally turned off the computer and chased the cats out of the room.

I was giving them some treats, when I notcied Sabs sleeping peacefully on the couch. All that time he'd been in the living room, asleep, not in bed watching T.V. as I'd thought. I woke him gently and we curled up into bed, dead-tired and bumbly from sleepiness.

He actually woke up this morning. I vaguely remember greeting him brightly around 9am, the rest is a big black blur that didn't lift until around noon-time.

I've gotta stop these all-night computer sessions. They're cutting into my all-around efficiency like nobody's business.

8.23.99 | archive | narrative | mail | 8.30.99