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This Day in My History

 Buff Bev
2002:  Ahhh...Microtechnology
2003:  The Two Fat Ladies



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I really can't understand the attraction of these little critters, but everybody seems to like them.

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26 January 2005

I managed to get out of the house and away from the puppies for an hour, when I went up to the University to interview the director of an upcoming university production of Rocky Horror Show

I am/was a Rocky Horror Picture Show virgin but decided that before I could review the show--or interview its director--I had to do some research, so I rented the film from Netflix.  Now I know when people throw rice or twirl noisemakers or whatever it is that the cult film devotees developed over the years.

I also ordered a movie called Frankie Fan: Rocky Horror Lives On, a documentary about the members of the Rocky Horror cult (which hadn't arrived yet).

It was a bad morning.   Toby, for whatever reason, decided he wanted to be fed every 2 hours.  I thought I had them all settled, that it was safe to change into clothes that didn't have dried formula on them, and head on up to the University.  I'd be gone only an hour and a half, and I figured that my absence for that length of time wouldn't kill them.

Naturally, as soon as I got dressed. Toby was yelping loudly and woke his brothers.  It was cutting things close, but I heated up some formula and managed to feed him without dripping on myself, but he didn't get the after-meal suckling and was turned rather abruptly back in his cage, whereupon the other two took up the cry, but there just was no time to feed them too.

I always put new batteries in the dictation machine, just to be on the safe side, but discovered I was out of new batteries, so I took batteries out of the digital camera and hoped that I'd be able to tell if the dictation unit stopped.

Next, I couldn't find my car keys.  They weren't in the two usual places, or in the one place where they are when they aren't in the two usual places, so I just took Walt's key and left the front door of the house unlocked.

I hoped that by some miracle there would be on-street parking near the office building, but of course there was not.   Parking on campus costs $6 and I only had $4 and didn't want to pay $6 anyway, so I went to the Borders Books parking lot and walked to the theatre department, arriving out of breath at 10:55.  Whew.  I'd made it!

I found the director's office, which was locked--but I was five minutes early.  There was a chair in front of another office, so I sat down to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

At 11:15, I was beginning to think I'd gotten the day wrong (which would have fit in with the kind of day I was having!).

I left a note for the director on the door to the office and walked back to the car to drive home, hoping to find that the puppies hadn't died in the hour I'd been gone.  By the time I got to the car, I had convinced myself that it was my fault and that even though I had the date written down in two different calendars and had set an alarm on my Palm to remind me, that somehow I had it wrong--that it was really 10 a.m. and the director had tired of waiting for me.

I drove home and found that (a) nobody had robbed the house, (b) the puppies were all alive (and sleeping), (c) the mail had arrived, bringing Frankie Fan: Rocky Horror Lives On, which I could now watch before doing the interview, and (d) that the director's e-mail clearly states,

Tuesday next week is looking okay for me.  Would 11am suit you in my office at Theatre and Dance dept? 

It's "Tuesday next week" and I was there at 11am, so I figured the mistake was the director's.

When I was all settled again and ready to check e-mail, waiting for me was an e-mail from the publicist of the Theatre and Drama Department saying that the director had been called away, had left a message for me in the department office to meet her somewhere else and was very sorry that I never got the message.

Sigh.  I've never coordinated with the office before and, in truth, am not really sure where it is.

But now I can spend the afternoon watching Frankie Fan to be able to ask better questions next time, and feeding puppies.

Unfortunately, that now means that I have to go through the whole rigmarole of trying to coordinate the puppies' feedings with another interview time!

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The puppies insist on eating while standing up, braced against my hand,
their little tails wagging a mile a minute.


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